SENERAL 


A  WORD   FROM  THE  PUBLISHER 

No  man  did  more  to  make  the  work  of  Pestalozzi  known 
in  America  than  Dr.  Barnard.  In  Vol.  Ill  of  the  Journal 
he  published  von  Raumer's  Life  of  Pestalozzi,  and  Vol.  VII 
is  nearly  half  devoted  to  translations  of  Pestalozzi's  writ- 
ings, still  the  most  complete  exposition  of  them  in  English. 
One  of  the  earliest  and  the  most  valuable  of  all  his  separate 
books  was  "Pestalozzi  and  Pestalozzianism",  of  which  a 
small  edition  was  published  in  I860.  For  von  Raumer's 
opinion  of  this  book  see  p.  128  of  this  volume.  The  edition 
was  soon  exhausted,  and  he  planned  an  extended  reprint 
under  the  title  "  Pestalozzi  and  Swiss  Pedagogy".  When 
his  plates  came  to  me  I  found  several  boxes  so  marked  and 
containing  most  of  the  material  in  this  volume. 

This  second  book  was  however  never  printed,  and  mean- 
time he  had  accumulated  much  more  material  about  Pes- 
talozzi, so  that  in  issuing  the  book  I  have  thought  best  to 
give  it  a  title  slightly  different,  to  distinguish  it  from  the 
book  that  was  published,  containing  about  two-thirds  of 
the  matter  here  given,  and  from  the  book  announced  but 
not  published.  This  volume  contains  every  thing  about 
Pestalozzi  that  Dr.  Barnard  gathered,  and  is  much  the  most 
complete  exposition  of  the  man  and  of  his  work  that  has 
appeared. 

If  it  were  rewritten  it  would  be  somewhat  modified  by 
books  that  have  been  published  since  it  was  completed, 
especially  "Pestalozzi,  his  Aim  and  Work"  by  Baron  Roger 
de  Guimps  (Paris,  1874,  English  by  Margaret  Cuthbertson 
Crombie,  Syracuse,  1889,  another  translation  by  J.  Russell, 
London,  1890).  But  I  have  not  ventured  to  make  any 
changes  in  Dr.  Barnard's  pages.  They  were  a  labor  of 
love,  and  form  a  noble  contribution. 

The  translations  of  Pestalozzi's  works  here  given  are,  as 
I  have  said,  the  most  complete  in  English.  I  have  com- 

3 


4  PESTALOZZI   AND   HIS   EDUCATIONAL   SYSTEM 

pared  them  with  the  original  German  editions  and  think 
perhaps  a  few  bibliographical  notes  may  be  of  interest. 

Of  "Leonard  and  Gertrude", the  earliest  edition  I  have 
of  the  original  is  that  of  Zurich  and  Leipzig,  1790  for  the 
first  two  parts,  and  1792  for  the  third  part.  It  does  not 
number  the  chapters,  or  give  nearly  all  the  divisions  and 
headings  of  chapters  in  the  translation. 

In  Pestalozzi's  complete  works  (Stuttgart  and  Tubingen, 
1820,  see  p.  167  of  this  volume)  the  first  four  volumes  are 
given  to  Leonard  and  Gertrude.  Here  the  chapters  are 
numbered,  and  Vol.  I  gives  Dr.  Barnard's  100  chapters. 
In  Mann's  edition  (Langensalza,  1878)  Leonard  and  Ger- 
trude occupies  two  of  the  four  volumes,  and  in  the  little 
Reclam  Leipzig  edition  it  makes  a  single  volume  with  170 
chapters.  The  last  70  chapters  Dr.  Barnard  has  condensed 
into  "The  School  at  Bonnal". 

The  translation  is  that  of  an  English  edition  (London, 
1825),  though  the  punctuation  is  changed,  and  Dr.  Barn- 
ard's headings  are  often  fuller;  as  for  instance  to  chapter 
"LXXXII  in  the  London  edition  "The  old  coachman",  in 
Barnard,  "A  coachman  who  loves  his  master's  son",  in  the 
original,  "Kin  Kutscher,  dem  seines  Junkers  Sohn  lieb  ist". 

Another  edition  of  Leonard  and  Gertrude  was  published 
in  Philadelphia  in  1801  and  dedicated  to  William  Wilber- 
force.  The  title  page  reads,  "Written  originally  in  German, 
translated  into  French,  and  now  attempted  in  English,  with 
the  hope  of  its  being  useful  to  all  classes  of  society."  It 
gives  the  same  100  chapters.  This  is  a  wholly  different 
text,  the  value  of  which  may  be  judged  the  fact  that  the 
second  sentence  gives  Gertrude  five  children  instead  of 
seven.  It  is  cheaply  printed. 

Dr.  Barnard  evidently  realized  that  "How  Gertrude 
teaches  her  children  "  (Vol.  V  of  complete  works)  was  ped- 
agogically  more  important  than  "  Leonard  and  Gertrude  ", 
and  has  given  more  of  it  than  had  before  appeared  in  En- 
glish. The  entire  volume  has  since  been  translated  (Syra- 
cuse, 1898),  and  in  that  edition  "Pestalozzi's  account  of 
his  own  educational  experience  "  in  this  volume  is  12  pages 
of  the  first  letter,  written  Jan.  1^1901  (pp.  29-41).  "Meth- 
ods of  Elementary  Instruction  "  begins  in  the  6th  letter  and 


A    WORD   FROM  THE   PUBLISHER  5 

extends  through  the  9th  (pp.   145-219). 

It  might  be  wished  that  more  of  Pestalozzi's  methods  be 
made  available  in  English.  "  Pestalozzi's  Erziehungs- 
unternehmung  im  Verhaltniss  zur  Zeitkultur  '.'  ( Iserten, 
1812)  does  not  appear  in  the  list  of  Pestalozzi's  works  in 
De  Guimp  and  I  do  not  know  any  extended  reference  to  it  in 
English.  The  first  text-book  of  Pestalozzi's  I  have  found  is 
"  Anschaunngslehre  der  Zahlenveraltnisse  "  in  three  vol- 
umes (Zurich,  1803,  see  p.  168  of  this  volume).  It  has 
been  adapted  to  American  schools  by  James  II.  Hoose  under 
the  title  "Pestalozzian  Series  of  Arithmetic"(Syracuse, 1882), 
and  is  in  considerable  use  in  public  schools.  In  1821  P.  H. 
Pullen  who  had  previously  translated  Pestalozzi's  "  Buch 
der  Mutter  "  (Zurich,  1803)  published  "  Pestalozzi's  Intel- 
lectual or  Intuitive  Arithmetic  ",  not  following  Pestalozzi 
so  closely,  and  the  similar  work  in  this  country  by  Warren 
Colburn  is  well  known. 

'  *  Lessons  on  Number  as  given  a  Pestalozzian  School, 
Cheam,  Surrey.  The  Master's  Manual  by  C.  Reiner,  teacher 
of  mathematics  at  Cheam  School.  With  a  preface  by  Dr. 
Mayo,  setting  forth  the  basis  of  Pestalozzi's  method/'  and  a 
similar  ' '  Lessons  on  Form ' '  were  published  in  England  in 
1835.  In  1893  I  purchased  the  remainder  of  the  edition 
and  published  it  with  a  short  preface;  but  the  books  have  all 
been  sold,  and  are  not  likely  to  be  reprinted. 

The  original  edition  bears  on  the  fly-leaf  the  general 
title  "Pestalozzi's  Elementar-Bucher ".  of  which  another 
volume  is  "  A  B  C  der  Anschauung  oder  Anschauung-Lehre 
der  Massverhaltnisse  "  (Zurich,  1803),  which  called  out 
Herbart's  "  Pestalozzisldee  eines  A  B  C  der  Anschauung  " 
(Gottingen,  1804;  Sammtliche  Werke,  Leipzig,  1882,  i.  169- 
291). 

The  "  New  Year's  Address"  is  one  of  the  "  Reden  an 
sein  Haus  "  which  are  given  in  Mann's  edition  (iv.  1-158) 
for  1808, 1809,  1810, 1811, 1812,  18l8,the  last  being  his  "Ad- 
dress on  his  ?3d  birthday  "  (complete  works,  ix.  151) 

"  The  Evening  Hour  of  a  Hermit "  appears  in  all  col- 
lected editions  of  his  works. 

The  Letters  to  Greaves  were  never  published  in  German. 
The  book  is  mentioned  under  its  English  title  in  Vol.  XVI 


6  PESTALOZZI    AND   HIS   EDUCATIONAL    SYSTEM 

of  Seyffarth's  edition  of  his  works  (Blandenburg,  1872). 
They  were  printed  in  English  in  London,  1827,  and  re- 
printed in  Syracuse,  1898. 

The  extracts  from  the  "  Swan  Song  "  ("  Schwanenge- 
sang  ",  Mann  iv.  159-361)  are  of  course  meagre.  A  better 
idea  will  be  got  from  Chapter  XVII  of  De  Guimp  (pp.  245- 
57) 

If"  The  single  page  from  the  "  Mother's  Book  '"  is  certainly 
characteristic. 

8  Except  the  portrait,  p.  514,  the  illustrations  were  not  a 
part  of  Dr.  Barnard's  plan,  and  have  been  added  from  var- 
ious sources.  Those  of  places  are  mainly  from  the  litho- 
graphs in  Christoffel's  "Pestalozzi's  Leben  und  Ansichteu" 
(Zurich,  1846,  seep.  169  of  this  volume).  The  two  pictures 
of  the  school  at  Stanz,  differing  in  detail  but  not  in  char- 
acter, are  familiar.  While  the  portrait  on  p.  512  is  well 


known  and  was  the  one  chosen  by  Dr.  Barnard,  two  others 
are  often  printed,  the  one  on  the  right  from  Biber's  "Henry 
Pestalozzi"  (1831).  Of  this  William  Woodbridge  says  in 
the  Annals  of  Education  (i.  597):  "We  regret  that  the 
portrait  should  present  us  with  the  mere  remains  of  Pesta- 
lozzi. We  are  so  fortunate  as  to  possess  a  better  one,  whose 
correctness  we  have  known  from  personal  intercourse  with 
this  amiable  man." 


CONTENTS 

PARTI     PESTALOZZI  AND    HIS  WORK 17 

Dr.  Barnard's  Final  "Words  on  Pestalozzi 17 

JEAN  JACQUES  ROUSSEAU 19 

Emile 23,  52,  61,  67 

LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI,  CARL 

VON  RAUMER 49 

early  school  days 50 

teachers  51 

marriage 54 

Neuhof 57,  48,*  114,  161 

"Evening  Hour  of  a  Hermit" 59,  117 

"Leonard  and  Gertrude" 62,  118,  298,  517 

" Christopher  and  Alice" 65,  366,  665 

"Figures  to  my  A  B  C  book" 66 

"Researches  into  the  course  of  nature" 66,  118 

Stanz 69,130* 

Burgdorf 71,  130,*  434,  720 

Kriisi  71,  88,  103,  105,  323 

^Hqw  Gertrude  teaches  her  children".  72, 117, 118,  669 

^    form,  number ,77,  262,  263,  276 

magical  power  of  words 78 

Ramsauer's  account  of  Burgdorf 84,  118 

>'The  A  B  C  of  observation" 86 

'  ¥  Lessons  on  the  relation  of   numbers" 86 

"Book  for  mothers".. 86 

Fellenburg  and  Hof  wyl  , 87,109,  281,437 

Buchsee 87,  90 

Yverdun 88,  130*,  131,  399,,  435,  442*,  734 

controversy  with  Niederer,  88, 106, 108, 109, 113, 293,334 

Schmid 88,  92,  97,  104-8,  115,  301 

Ramaauer 91,  305 

mission  of  enquiry 96 

address  on  73d  birthday.. !....109,  121-3,  712 


10  PBSTALOZZI  AND  HIS   EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM 

Clindy   US. 

Greaves 112,438 

Xeuhof 114 

"Song  of  the  dying  swan" 115 

"Fortunes  of  my  life" 115 

Zeller 115,  250,  309,  437 

death 116 

religious  instruction 

poverty 124 

a  self-taught  man IS 4 

Basedow 1S5 

biographies  of  Pestalozzi 127,  167 

Clindy  school 1S9 

student  life  at  Yverdun 131 

reminiscenced  of  Dr.  Mayo 143 

Brougham  on  Pestalozzi 144 

PESTALOZZIAN  ISM  ix  GERMANY 145 

Johaan  Gottlieb  Fichte 145 

Diesterweg 147 

Pestalozzi 's  educational  labors  for  the  poor 161 

school  house  at  Birr,  with  PestalozzPs  memorial... 166*, 
publications  by  and  relating  to  Pestalozzi  (see  p.  127)...  167 
OBJECT  TEACHING,  PRINCIPLES  AND  METHODS,  F.  BUSSE,  185 

Conversations  on  objects,  C.  Marcel SIT 

exercises  in  perception 

in  observation  SS4 

in  reflection     

ASSISTANTS  AND  DISCIPLES  OF  PESTALOZZI  249 

Frederick  Froebel  on  Pestalozzi 

FroebeFs  law  of  opposites S73 

Pestalozzi,  De  Fellenberg  and  Wehrle  281 

Johannes  Xiederer 

Johannes  Buss 

Joseph  Schmid 301 

Hans  Georg  Xageli  

Johann  Rarnsauer 305 

Karl  August  Zeller 309 

John  Ernst  Plamann 313 

Friedrich  Adolf. Wilhelm  Diesterweg 316,  387 

Bernhard  Gottlieb  Denzel...  ...319 


COHTEXT8  11 

Wilhelm  Uarnisch 321 

Hermann  Krusi  323 

views  and  plans  of  education 349 

facsimile  of  manuscript  of  Pestalozzi  and  assistants... 360* 

John  George  Tobler 361 

Karl  Christian  Wilhelm  Ton  Turk 369 

Robert   Owen  and  factory  population 375 

intuitions  in  object  teaching 387 

PESTALOZZIANISM    IN   THE  UNITED  STATES 389 

William  Maclure 389,435 

Joseph  Xeff 393,  435 

The  Academician     395 

John  Griscom  399,437 

report  of  the  Oswego  committee ; .  ..405 

specimen  lessons 417 

^history  of  object  teaching 429 

William    Russell 437 

William  C.   Woodbridge 437 

in    England 438 

in  Oswego 438 

E.  A.  Sheldon 439 

report  on  object-teaching,  S.  S.  Greene 443 

in  Oswego ..463,479 

E.  A.  Sheldon  on  object-teaching 469 

objections  to  object-teaching  at  Oswego,H.  B.  Wilbur... 479 

PESTALOZZIANISM  IN  ENGLAND 499 

Robert  Hebert  Quick 499 

Oscar    Browning 504 

James  Leitch 505 

James  Tilleard  507 

Dr.   Biber 510 

PESTALOZZIANISM  IN  FRANCE 511 

Gabriel  Compayre 511 

Pestalozzi,  Rousseau,  and  Froebel  in  France 513 

PART  II    SELECTIONS  FROM  THE  WRITINGS  OF 

PESTALOZZI 513 

LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE 513 

The  school  in  Bonnal 649 

•CHRISTOPHER  AND  ALICE 665 

How  GERTRUDE  TEACHES  HER  CHILDREN 669 


12  l'K>TALOZZI  AND  HIS  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM 

PESTALOZZI'S  EDUCATIONAL  EXPERIENCE 671 

methods  of  elementary  instruction 675 

Pestalozzi  as  the  father  of  a  family 703 

New  Year's  address,  1809 712 

Paternal  instructions 720 

Evening  hour  of  a  hermit 72S 

Letters  to  Greaves 735- 

Swan  song 737 

Pestalozri's  hundredth  birthday 743' 

Memorial  to  Pestalozzi  .  ..  752: 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Portrait  of    Henry    Barnard,  frontispiece 

Another  portrait  of  Henry  Barnard 16 

Portrait  of  Pestalozzi,  514 

Pestalozzi  in  his  school  at  Stans 17,  403 

Xeuhoff,  near  Birr, 48,  166,752 

Staus 130 

Burgdorf 130 

Yverdun 130,  442,  734 

School  house  at  Birr,  with  Pestalozzi  Memorial 166,  ?5-2 

Manuscript  of  Pestalozzi,  Ramsauer,  Xiederer,  Tobler  360 

Pestalozzi  in  his  school  at  Stanz 403 

Yverdun   442 

The  castle  at  Yverdun 734 

Memorial  to  Pestalozzi  at  Birr...  ...T-V2 


13 


PESTALOZZI 
AND  HIS  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM 


HENRY  BARNARD   IN   1881 


PESTALOZZI  AND  PESTALOZZIANISM. 


LAST  WORDS. 

We  shall  close  our  editorial  studies  and  publications  respecting  the 
great  Swiss  educator  with  this,  and  possibly  one  additional  chapter 
in  the  current  volume  of  the  Journal.  The  articles  which  follow 
will  amply  repay  the  closest  attention. 

The  first  gives  an  interesting  picture  of  the  daily  life  of  Pestalozzi's 
Family  School  in  the  old  castle  of  Yverdun,  at  a  time  when  his 
reputation  had  drawn  together  pupils  and  assistants  from  every 
nation  in  Europe.  In  spite  of  the  unappreciative  spirit  of  the 
writer,  and  the  evidence  of  the  astounding  incapacity  of  the  principal 
for  the  administration  of  affairs,  we  see  and  feel  the  strenpth  and 
warmth  of  his  great  heart  which  brought  and  kept  together  such 
widely  differing  antagonisms, — of  his  constant  forgetfulness  of  self  in 
his  immense  devotion  to  the  interests  of  his  fellowmen, — and  of 
his  insight  into  the  true  philosophy  and  means  of  human  culture, 
without  the  trained  faculties  in  himself,  the  result  of  his  own  imper- 
fect education,  to  perfect  and  apply  the  methods. 

The  second  article  gives  us  at  once  an  appreciative  account. of  the 
principles  of  the  Pestalozzian  system,  by  one  competent  to  under- 
stand it,  and  at  the  same  time  gives  us  the  first  glimpses  of  the 
K  ndersrarten,  as  it  revealed  itself  to  Froebel  in  his  profound  study  of 
the  child  at  play  and  in  school. 

The  third  article,  in  the  list  of  over  three  hundred  distinct 
treatises  on  Pestalozzi  and  his  system,  and  which  is  far  from  being 
-complete,  shows  both  the  originality  and  value  of  his  views,  so 
largely  and  variously  discussed,  and  opens  up  a  rich  field  of  special 
study  to  the  student  of  human  culture. 

These  and  other  papers,  published  in  the  early  volumes  of  the 
American  Journal  of  Education,  will  appear  in  a  separate  volume 
{the  contents  of  which  is  given  on  the  next  page),  as  soon  as  there  is 
any  evidence  that  a  revised  edit'on  is  wanted. 

HENRY  BARNARD. 

HARTFOKD,  CONN.,  March  15,  1881. 


JEAN  JACQUES  ROUSSEAU. 


JEAN  JACQUES  ROUSSEAU,  whose  educational  as  well  as  political 
speculations  exerted  a  mighty  influence  on  his  age,  was  born  at  Geneva, 
in  Switzerland,  June  28th,  1712.  His  father  was  a  watchmaker,  a 
good  mechanic,  and  fond  of  reading ;  and  his  mother  a  woman  of 
considerable  beauty,  and  great  intelligence.  She  died  in  giving  him 
birth,  and  for  some  years  he  seems  to  have  had  little  or  no  instruction 
or  guidance  of  any  kind  except  from  his  father,  who  was  too  poor,  too 
busy,  and,  apparently,  not  quite  judicious  enough,  for  the  purpose. 
They  read  together,  before  the  boy  was  seven  years  old,  whole  nights 
through,  some  romances  which  had  been  his  mother's ;  and  when 
those  were  finished,  some  books  of  divinity  and  translations  of  the 
classics.  Thus  the  boy  learned  to  love  reading,  but  evidently  could  not 
acquire  good  habits, either  physical  or  mental;  and  his  "Confessions" 
show  that  he  stole,  lied,  and  played  dirty  tricks.  In  short,  he  was 
a  "bright"  boy,  but  indolent,  irritable,  mischievous,  thoroughly  un- 
principled, untrained,  and  ill-bred. 

With  these  wretched  early  habits,  which  had  strengthened  his 
natural  evil  tendencies,  and  in  a  condition  of  poverty  which  both  pre- 
vented their  ready  gratification  and  made  their  precise  opposites  the 
indispensable  conditions  to  prosperity  and  happiness,  he  entered  upon 
the  vagrant  and  unhappy  series  of  wanderings  and  adventures  which 
might  have  been  expected.  He  was  placed  with  an  attorney,  who 
discharged  him  for  negligence  ;  then  with  an  engraver,  whom  he  left, 
as  he  says,  on  account  of  his  harshness, — which  undoubtedly  was  only 
proper  strictness.  He  next  ran  away  from  home,  for  fear  of  being 
punished  for  his  vices;  and  he  took  refuge  with  Borney,  Catholic 
bishop  of  Annecy.  Here  he  asserted  himself  a  convert  to  Catholicism, 
and  was  placed,  for  religious  instruction,  with  a  Madame  de  Warens, 
herself  a  recent  proselyte.  She  in  turn  sent  him  to  a  Catholic  semi- 
nary, at  Turin,  where  he  completed  the  required  preparations,  publicly 
recanted  his  Protestant  belief,  and  then  declined  to  study  for  the 
priesthood.  Upon  this  they  dismissed  him,  with  twenty  florins ; 
which  he  spent,  became  servant  to  a  countess,  stole  a  ribbon,  and 
managed  to  have  the  blame  laid  on  a  decent  waiting-maid  in  the 
family.  When  the  countess  died  he  took  a  place  in  the  family  of  a 
nobleman,  whose  son  treated  him  like  a  companion,  and  instructed 
him.  After  a  time,  however,  he  was  disobedient  and  insolent,  and 


20  JEAN  JACQUES  ROUSSEAU. 

was  dismissed.  Penniless,  he  returned  to  Madame  de  Warens,  with 
whom  he  lived,  as  a  sort  of  paid  lover,  for  about  ten  years.  She  ob- 
tained for  him  a  place  in  a  surveying  commission,  established  by  tho 
King  of  Sardinia,  and  other  employments  ;  none  of  which  he  had  the 
•decency  or  the  industry  to  retain  ;  forgave  him  for  twice  eloping  from 
her  ;  but,  becoming  at  last  disgusted  by  his  unfaithfulness,  secured 
him  employment  as  a  tutor  in  a  gentleman's  family  at  Lyons.  But 
the  desultory  studies  in  music  and  mathematics,  and  occasional  em- 
ployment as  music  teacher,  which  had  occupied  him  while  with  her, 
had  not  rendered  him  fit  for  the  regular  and  decent  duties  of  an  in- 
structor; and  in  a  tit  of  anger  and  shame  he  resigned  the  place,  in 
1741.  He  now  walked  to  Paris,  with  fifteen  louis,  his  entire  means, 
in  his  pocket ;  in  some  way  got  into  good  literary  society ;  offered 
the  musicians  of  the  city  a  new  scheme  of  musical  notation,  which 
was  at  once  rejected  ;  lived  in  penury  two  years,  supported  by  music- 
copying  and  obscure  employments.  At  the  end  of  that  time  his 
friends  obtained  him  a  place  as  secretary  to  the  French  ambassador 
at  Venice,  where  he  stayed  two  years,  living  a  shamelessly  vicious 
life,  quarreled  with  his  superior,  and  returned  to  Paris. 

Here  he  hired  a  small  room,  and  became  attached  to  Therese  Le- 
vasseur,  a  vulgar  and  stupid  girl,  who  lived  with  him  as  his  mistress 
for  twenty  years,  and  whom  he  then  married.  They  had  five  children, 
all  of  whom  the  father  quietly  placed  in  the  foundling  hospital,  and 
whom  he  never  afterward  tried  to  identify ;  nor  was  he  at  all  in- 
terested when  some  of  his  friends  sought  to  find  them  for  him.  After 
his  death,  his  wife  married  a  hostler. 

He  earned  a  scanty  living,  after  this  last  removal  to  Paris,  by  copy- 
ing music ;  and  failed  in  the  attempt  at  operatic  composition.  After 
a  time  he  obtained  the  place  of  clerk  to  one  of  the  farmers-general  of 
the  revenue,  from  the  profits  of  which  he  sent  some  little  money  to 
Madame  de  Warens,  then  in  great  poverty.  About  1748,  he  was 
employed  to  write  some  articles  on  music  for  the  "JEncyclopcedia" 
which  he  did,  he  says,  "  very  quickly  and  very  ill." 

During  his  life  in  Paris,  his'  associates  were  literary  men,  especially 
of  the  school  of  Diderot  and  D'Alembert,  and  a  crew  of  licentious 
and  swindling  men  of  rank  and  fashion,  whom  he  calls  "  very  agree- 
able and  very  respectable." 

In  1749,  at  the  age  of  37,  he  made  his  first  successful  attempt  at 
authorship,  by  writing  an  answer  to  a  prize  question  proposed  by  the 
Academy  of  Dijon,  "  Whether  the  progress  of  the  arts  and  sciences 
has  tended  to  the  purification  of  manners  and  morals.'"  At  the  sug- 
gestion of  Diderot,  who  reminded  him  of  the  greater  notoriety  which 
he  could  gain  on  the  wrong  side,  he  took  the  negative,  and  found  his 


JEAN  JACQUES  ROUSSEAU.  21 

line  of  argument  exactly  adapted  to  his  modes  of  thought  and  feel- 
ing. He  rapidly  composed  a  violent,  brilliant,  and  eloquent,  but 
sophistical  and  inconsistent  denunciation  of  civilized  life,  won  the 
prize,  and  at  once  saw  himself  comparatively  eminent. 

In  1752,  he  once  more  tried  operatic  composition.  His  "Devin  du 
Village"  (Village  Conjuror,)  was  very  successful ;  and  he  also  wrote 
a  tragedy  and  three  comedies,  none  of  them  of  much  value.  Dur- 
ing the  following  year  he  competed  for  a  second  prize  offered  by  the 
Academy  of  Dijon,  for  the  best  answer  to  the  question,  "  What  is  the 
cause  of  inequality  among  men  ?"  but  did  not  succeed.  The  charac- 
ter of  this  production,  and  the  audacity  of  his  philosophical  methods, 
may  be  judged  of  from  his  own  remark  that,  in  composing  this  treat- 
ise, he  purposely  "  looked  away  from  all  the  facts  of  history." 

The  attacks  which  his  first  prize  essay  had  occasioned,  and  others 
which  were  caused  by  a  "Letter  on  French  Music"  in  which  he  con- 
tended that  the  French  had  not  and  could  not  have  any  vocal  music, 
by  reason  of  the  defects  of  the  language,  had  now  gained  him  con- 
siderable reputation.  In  fact,  he  had  taken  advantage  of  this,  to  re- 
visit his  birthplace,  Geneva ;  and  it  was  while  there  that  he  com- 
posed his  unsuccessful  prize  essay.  He  was  much  caressed ;  became 
filled  with  republican  enthusiasm  ;  and,  being,  in  his  own  words, 
"ashamed  of  being  excluded  from  my  rights  as  a  citizen  by  the  pro- 
fession of  a  faith  not  that  of  my  fathers,"  he  made  another  recanta- 
tion, and  publicly  professed  himself  a  Protestant. 

Having  returned  to  Paris,  he  gave  up,  out  of  fear  of  persecution,  a 
government  appointment,  for  which  he  had  exchanged  his  clerkship, 
and  for  a  long  time  afterward  lived  chiefly  upon  the  bounty  of  his 
friends,  contributed  in  the  shape  of  wages  for  copying  music. 

In  1756,  Rousseau,  in  pursuance  of  an  invitation  from  Madame 
d'  Epinay,  established  himself  at  a  house  called  ]'  Hermitage,  upon 
her  estate  at  Montmorenci,  not  far  from  Paris.  Here  he  remained 
for  about  ten  years,  and  wrote  some  of  his  most  celebrated  works ; 
"La  Nouvelle  Heloise,"  "Emile,"  and  the  "Contrat  Social." 

The  "Heloise"  is  a  novel,  without  a  good  plot,  and  without  well- 
drawn  characters ;  attractive  for  vigorous  language,  passionate  feel- 
ing, and  opinions  dangerous  but  seductively  expressed.  It  appeared 
in  1759,  and  was  followed,  in  1762,  by  "JSmile"  perhaps  his  greatest 
or,  at  least,  most  celebrated  work.  This  was  written  for  Madame  de 
Luxembourg,  and  is  a  singular  compound  of  acute  observation,  truth, 
sophistry,  rhetoric,  and  irreligion. '  It  was  not  so  well  received  by  the 
public  as  some  of  his  other  works,  and  was  with  justice  condemned 
by  the  archbishop  and  the  parliament  of  Paris.  It  had  a  powerful 
influence  on  a  class  of  educators,  both  in  Germany  and  Switzerland. 

The  "Contrat   Social'1'1  came  out  very  soon   afterward.     It  is  only 


-22  JEAN  JACQUES  ROUSSEAU. 

one  part  of  a  great  work  on  political  institutions,  which  he  had  cle 
signed  as  early  as  his  stay  in  Venice,  and  is  a  scheme  of  entire  social 
equality.  Before  the  whole  of  it  was  printed,  the  author  was  in- 
formed that  government  intended  to  imprison  him,  and  fled  to  Swit- 
zerland. Geneva  refused  to  receive  him,  and,  both  there  and  at  Paris, 
his  work  was  publicly  burned  by  the  common  hangman.  He  finally 
found  rest  with  Marshal  Keith,  in  Neufchatel,  where  he  wrote  an  an- 
swer to  the  decree  of  the  archbishop  of  Paris  for  the  burning  of  "  Emile" 
and  his  "Lett-res  de  la  Montague"  in  which  he  attacked  the  clergy  and 
the  republic  of  Geneva,  and  renounced  his  citizenship  of  the  latter. 
A  mob,  how  instigated  it  is  not  quite  clear,  drove  him  away,  and  he 
fled  to  an  island  in  the  lake  of  Bienne.  Having  in  vain  sought  an 
asylum  in  Berne,  he  now  went  to  Strasburg,  and  thence  to  Paris, 
where  he  arrived  in  great  destitution,  and  became  acquainted  with 
Hume,  the  historian,  then  English  charge  d'affaires  there.  Hume, 
out  of  sympathy  and  kindness,  carried  him  to  England  and  placed 
him  in  a  comfortable  situation  there.  Rousseau,  however,  who  seems 
by  this  time  actually  to  have  become  monomaniac  on  the  subject  of 
persecution,  soon  imagined  that  Hume  was  secretly  attacking  his  rep- 
utation, wrote  him  an  abusive  letter,  renounced  a  pension  which  he 
had  secured  for  him  from  the  English  government,  and  returned  to 
France.  Here  he  wandered  about  the  country  for  a  year  or  two, 
busying  himself  with  botanical  studies,  which  he  pursued  eagerly  and 
with  success.  It  was  during  this  period  that  he  published  his  "Dic- 
tionnaire  de  Musique,r  rewritten  from  his  articles  in  the  "Encyclopae- 
dia;" a  work,  like  all  his  writings,  containing  many  acute  observations 
and  just  remarks,  but  full  of  errors,  and  misleading  in  tendency ;  and 
during  the  same  period  it  was  that  he  united  himself  in  marriage  to 
Therese  Levasseur,  with  whom  he  had  lived  since  1*745. 

In  1770,  he  obtained,  through  his  friends,  permission  to  come  to 
Paris,  where  otherwise  he  would  still  have  been  liable  to  imprison- 
ment under  the  sentence  passed  on  account  of  "Emile"  He  was, 
however,  obliged  to  promise  not  to  write  upon  politics  or  religion, 
which  he  accordingly  did  not  do ;  and  was  officially  cautioned  against 
publicity;  which  admonition  he  took  pleasure  in  setting  at  defiance, 
and,  contrary  to  his  previous  shy  habits,  he  went  much  into  society. 

He  was,  however,  now  reduced  to  an  excessively  unhealthy  mental 
condition,  had  become  extremely  rude  and  testy  in  manner,  irritable 
and  suspicious ;  his  health  was  also  failing,  and  he  was  falling  into 
deep  poverty.  In  1778,  the  Marquis  de  Girardin  invited  him  and 
his  wife  to  occupy  a  small  house  near  his  country-seat  of  Ermenon- 
ville,  some  thirty  miles  from  Paris.  He  accepted  the  invitation,  but 
had  been  established  there  scarcely  two  months  when  he  died  from  a 
stroke  of  apoplexy,  July  3d,  1778. 


ROUSSEAU'S  EMILE  33 

ROUSSEAU'S  EMILE 

THE  Emile  of  Rousseau  is  not  a  system  of  pedagogy  m  the  usual 
sense  of  the  term.  "  My  system,"  says  Rousseau,  "  is  nature's  course  of 
development."  After  a  short  general  introduction,  he  discusses,  in 
the  first  book,  the  management  of  new-born  children,  and.  in  particu- 
lar, of  Emile,  up  to  the  time  when  he  learned  to  talk;  the  second 
book  treats  of  his  education  from  that  time  to  his  twelfth  year ;  the 
third  ends  when  he  is  fifteen  ;  the  fourth  brings  him  to  his  marriage; 
and,  in  the  fifth,  are  described  Sophia,  his  wife,  and  her  education. 

The  work  is  rendered  still  more  different  from  a  system,  because  it 
contains  a  large  number  of  digressions  upon  subjects  which  have  lit- 
tle or  nothing  to  do  with  pedagogy.  It  would  be  a  vain  endeavor  to 
attempt  to  bring  it  into  a  systematic  form.  I  shall,  therefore,  follow 
the  author,  step  by  step,  (except  in  the  digressions,)  and  thus  give  a 
general  view  of  his  book.  Rousseau's  skill  as  a  writer  renders  it  diffi- 
cult for  the  reader  of  Emile  to  estimate  calmly  his  paradoxes,  and  to 
see  through  his  sophistries.  It  is  my  hope  that  the  following  view 
may  serve  as  a  clear  plan  of  this  labyrinth  of  Rousseau's,  and  that 
the  remarks  which  I  have  added  may  form  a  guide  through  it. 

Preface. — The  book,  says  the  author,  was  originally  written  for  a  thought- 
ful mother.  Even  if  the  thoughts  contained  in  it  are  of  no  value  in  themselves, 
they  ought  to  serve  to  awaken  valuable  thoughts  in  others.  Every  body  writes 
and  cries  out  against  the  usual  methods  of  instruction,  but  no  one  suggests  a  bet- 
ter one.  The  knowledge  of  our  century  serves  much  more  for  destroying  than 
for  building  ii|>. 

Childhood  is  not  understood.  The  most  judicious,  in  their  teaching,  confine 
themselves  to  that  which  it  is  necessary  for  a  man  to  know  ;  without  considering 
what  children  are  fit  to  learn.  They  are  always  seeking  for  a  man  in  the  child, 
without  ever  thinking  what  the  child  is  before  it  becomes  a  man. 

My  system  is  nature's  course  of  development.  This  term  will  be  mistaken  by 
many  of  my  ivaders.  They  will  take  my  book  to  be,  not  a  work  upon  education, 
but  the  dreams  of  a  visionary.  I  do  not  see  as  others  do  ;  but  can  I  give  myself 
others'  eyes  ?  I  can  not  change  my  views ;  I  can  only  suspect  them.  It  has 
been  often  said  to  me,  Propose  only  what  can  be  accomplished.  This  means,  pro- 
pose something  which  is  done  now  ;  or,  at  least,  something  good,  of  such  a  kind 
that  it  will  come  into  agreement  with  prevalent  evils.  Such  a  collocation  would 
destroy  the  good  without  healing  the  bad.  I  would  rather  adhere  entirely  to 
what  is  already  received  than  to  try  any  half  measures. 

In  order  that  the  plans  proposed  may  be  well  received  and  practicable,  they 
must  correspond  with  the  nature  of  things ;  in  the  present  case,  for  instance,  the 
plan  of  education  laid  down  must  be  adapted  to  human  nature.  A  second 
work  must  consider  accidental  relations,  such  as  the  relations  of  mnn  in  certain 
countries  or  in  certain  conditions.  I  do  not  concern^jnysa^'  with  such  relations, 
but  treat  only  of  the  education  of  the  human  being  in  itseTW'V 

As  Rousseau,  in  his  treatises  upon  the  inequality  of  man,  traces 
the  progress  of  our  race  from  the  natural  to  the  civilized,  he  proposes 
here  an  entirely  similar  problem.  Emile,  his  pupil,  is  humanity  per- 
sonified, in  the  natural  condition  of  childhood ;  a  tutor  teaches  this 
child  of  nature  naturally.  He  is  afterward  to  come  into  a  civilized 


24  ROUSSEAU'S  EM1LE. 

condition,  into  the  relations  of  the  present  world ;  even  to  live  in 
Paris,  under  Louis  XV.  Would  not  Emile,  appear  in  such  a  position 
as  a  natural  Don  Quixote  in  the  higher  circles,  as  Rousseau  himself 
appeared  ? 

With  received  notions  Rousseau  had  no  intercourse ;  he  sets  up 
his  educational  principles,  as  something  absolutely  good,  against  the 
former,  as  something  absolutely  bad.  Without  reading  further,  we 
may  here  conclude  that  there  is  only  one  who  has  the  right  to  say,. 
"Put  not  new  wine  into  old  bottles." 

Whether  it  is  right  to  deal  with  the  education  of  man,  in  the  ab- 
stract, to  discuss  the  personified  idea  of  human  childhood,  instead  of 
the  education  of  a  Frenchman  or  a  German,  of  a  townsman,. 
farmer,  etc.,  we  shall  inquire  more  particularly  hereafter.  At  this- 
time  it  will  suffice  to  say  that,  in  this,  Rousseau  contradicts  himself. 
Emile,  upon  careful  consideration,  will  be  seen  to  be  only  a  French- 
man in  puris  naturalibus,  who,  as  he  grows  up,  is  adorned  with  a 
laced  coat,  peruke  on  head,  and  sword  by  side.  Still  it  would  have 
been  beneficial,  if  Rousseau  had,  by  this,  reminded  the  French  that 
they  came  into  the  world  naked,  and  that  naked  they  will  go  out. 
FIRST  BOOK.  INTRODUCTION.  FJKST  YEAR  OF  EMILE'S  LIFE. 
1.  Nature  and  Art. 

All  is  good,  as  it  comes  from  the  hand  of  the  Creator ;  all  degenerates,  under 
the  hands  of  man.  He  forces  one  country  to  produce  the  fruits  of  another,  one 
tree  to  bear  that  of  another ;  he  confounds  climates,  elements,  and  seasons  ;  he 
mutilates  his  dog,  his  horse,  his  slave  ;  turns  every  thing  topsy-turvy,  disfigures 
every  thing;  he  will  have  nothing  as  nature  made  it,  not  even  man  himself;  he 
must  be  trained  like  a  managed  horse  ;  trimmed  like  a  tree  in  a  garden.  If  this 
does  not  happen,  things  turn  out  still  worse ;  our  race  will  not  be  satisfied  with 
being  half  modified.  Under  present  circumstances,  a  man  who  should  live  from 
birth  upward,  among  others,  and  be  entirely  left  to  himself,  would  be  deformed 
more  than  any  other.  Prejudice,  authority,  force,  example,  all  the  social  influ- 
ences which  gather  over  us,  could  stifle  nature  in  him,  and  set  nothing  in  her 
place.  He  would  be  like  the  young  tree  which  has  grown  up  by  chance  in  the 
street ;  it  must  soon  be  destroyed  by  the  crowd  of  persons  passing  over  it,  who 
tread  it  down  on  all  sides,  and  bend  it  in  every  direction.  I  turn  to  the  fond  and 
wise  mother,  who  knows  how  to  remove  the  child  from  the  street,  and  to  pre- 
serve the  growing  tree  from  contact  with  human  opinions. 

Bacon  defines  art,  "  homo  rebus  additus"  by  this  we  may  under- 
stand that  to  man,  as  to  the  image  of  God,  is  given  not  only  the  do- 
minion over  nature,  but  also  the  charge  of  a  sort  of  education  of  her, 
so  that  under  his  hands  she  may  look  more  beautiful ;  even  human. 
Rousseau,  instead  of  honorable  and  divinely-intended  art,  sees,  in  his 
bitterness,  only  a  caricature ;  only  what  depraved  men  have  done  to 
disfigure  nature ;  and,  at  the  same  time  puts  forth  such  perversions 
as  these,  as  most  refreshing  improvements.  Would  he  prefer  the 
crab  tree  to  a  Borsdorfer  apple,  as  he  does  the  ignorant  savage  man 


ROUSSEAU'S  EMILE  25< 

to  one  of  enlightened  mind  ?  The  child  would  become,  according  to 
him,  under  the  usual  education,  a  caricature ;  it  is  the  mother's  duty 
to  prevent  this  as  far  as  possible.  Education  is  her  business  much 
more  than  that  of  the  father.  In  this  Rousseau  is  a  forerunner  of 
Pestalozzi. 

2.      Three   Teachers.     Education   of  Men  and  of  Citizens. 

We  come  weak  into  the  world,  and  need  strength  ;  bare  of  every  thing,  and. 
net'd  assistance.  All  which  we  have  not  at  our  birth,  and  have  when  we  grow 
up,  we  acquire  by  education.  This  education  we  receive  either  from  nature,  from 
man,  or  from  things.  The  inner  development  of  our  powers  and  organs  is  the 
education  of  nature  ;  the  use  which  we  are  taught  to  make  of  this  development,, 
is  education  by  man  ;  and  what  we  learn  by  our  own  experience  of  the  circum- 
stances which  have  an  influence  upon  us,  the  education  by  things. 

We  have  no  power  over  education  by  nature ;  and,  therefore,  we  must  shape 
both  the  other  kinds  of  education  by  it.  It  is  said  :  nature  is  nothing  but  habit.. 
This  is  true  so  far  as  habit  corresponds  with  nature,  and  is  not  forcibly  and  unnat- 
urally constrained. 

Born  with  perceptions,  we  seek  or  flee  from  things  which  are  agreeable  or  dis- 
agreeable to  us ;  which  seem  to  promote  or  hinder  our  happiness  and  our  im- 
provement. Such  desires  and  aversions,  so  far  as  they  do  not  suffer  variations 
through  the  actions  or  the  opinions  of  others,  are  what  we  call  nature.  Every 
thing  in  education  must  be  so  related  to  these,  that  all  three  of  the  modes  of  edu- 
cation may  constitute  a  harmonious  whole.  But  nature  and  the  conditions  of  citi- 
zenship are  at  variance  in  many  ways  ;  and  it  is  necessary  to  determine  whether 
we  will  educate  a  man  or  a  citizen.  Every  partial  society,  as  of  one  nation,  &c., 
estranges  from  universal  human  society.  Yet  it  is  necessary,  before  all  things,  to 
deal  rightly  with  those  together  with  whom  we  live.  Trust  no  cosmopolitan,  who 
loves  the  Tartars,  in  order  to  be  excused  from  the  duty  of  loving  his  neighbors. 

The  natural  man  is  complete  within  himself;  his  is  the  numerical  unity;  an 
absolute  whole,  which  has  relations  only  with  itself,  or  with  its  like.  The  man 
of  society  is  only  a  fraction,  which  depends  upon  its  denominator,  and  whose 
value  is  determined  by  its  relations  to  the  whole ;  to  the  social  body.  Those 
modes  of  education  are  best  for  society,  which  are  most  efficient  in  perverting 
men  from  nature ;  in  robbing  him  of  his  absolute  existence,  in  giving  him  the 
relative  one,  such  that  after  it  he  will  feel  and  act  only  as  a  member  of  a  society. 

This  opposition  between  education  for  a  citizen  and  fora  man,  corresponds  with 
the  opposition  between  public  education  together,  and  private  education  in  the 
family.  The  former  existed  in  Sparta ;  but  exists  no  longer,  for  there  is  no 
longer  any  fatherland,  or  any  citizens. 

Thus,  there  remains  for  us  only  private  education,  or  that  of  nature.  But 
what  would  the  man  educated  only  for  himself  become  atterward,  among  others? 
To  know  this,  it  is  necessary  to  know  the  completely  educated  man  :  and  also  the 
natural  man.  This  book  is  intended  to  assist  in  gaining  such  knowledge. 

What  now  is  necessary  to  be  done  to  educate  the  natural  man  ?  Much,  no 
doubt ;  chiefly  in  order  to  hinder  any  thing  from  being  done. 

The  child  should  be  educated  for  the  common   human  vocation,  not  for  any 
special   situation ;    he  must  merely  live,    in  good  or  evil,  as  life   should  bring 
them  r  and  should  learn  more  by  experience  than  by  teaching.     Considering  the 
instability  of  human  affairs,  and  the  restless,  rebellious  spirit  of  the  present  centu-  \ 
ry,- which   is  overturning  every  thing,  no  more  unnatural  method  of  education  1 
could  be  devised  than  that  which  deals  with  a  child  as  if  he  was  never  to  leave  \ 
home,  or  the  companionship  of  his  own  friends.     As  soon  as  the  unhappy  pupil 
has  gone  a  step  away,  he  is  lost. 

Nothing  is  thought  of  but  the  support  of  a  child  ;  yet  he  must  sometime  die 
Less  care  is  taken  to  preserve  him  from  death,  than  to  contrive  how  he  may  live.. 
But  life  is  not  merely  breathing,  but  acting  ;  the  exertion  of  the  organs,  senses,, 
faculties,  all  which  gives  us  the  feeling  of  our  existence. 

Thus  far  the  introduction  ;  partly  in   agreement  with  the  preface.. 


26  ROUSSEAU  S  EMILE. 

Tin-  more  they  are  considered,  the  MKMV  mi>t y  and  indefinite  do  many 
of  Rousseau's  ideas  IK-IV  appear;  and  especially  tin;  iuVa  of  nature. 
She  must  instruct  men,  since  she  develops  their  powers  and  limbs; 
and  again,  she  is  an  instinctive ;  a  more  or  less  rational  sympathy 
and  antipathy. 

What  is  the  use  of  the  expression,  "  Education  of  nature  ?"  When 
a  seed  is  buried  in  the  earth,  and  the  plant  develops  itself  and  grows 
up,  nobody  calls  this  "  nature's  art  of  gardening."  Art,  on  the  con- 
trary, is  universally  set  in  opposition  to  nature ;  and  education  is  an 
art. 

No  one,  who  finds  the  basis  of  a  well-ordered  national  life  in  a  well- 
ordered  domestic  life,  based  upon  family  love,  would  set  domestic  in- 
struction in  violent  opposition  to  that  of  the  citizen ;  he  would  much 
rather  consider  it  the  only  one  from  which  good  citizens  can  come ; 
not  citizens  who  see  and  criticix-,  in  th»-ir  kings  and  princes,  meiv 
employed  agents,  but  who  honor  them  as  a  power  set  over  them  by 
God.  But  is  it  to  be  wondered  at  that  Rousseau,  a  contemporary  of 
the  wicked  Regent,  and  of  Louis  XV.,  should  speak  thus,  in  pre 
science  of  the  coining  revolution,  which  dissolved  all  sacred  ties? 

3.     New-born  Children.     Mothers*  Nurses. 

Nurses  shape  the  outside-  of  the  heads  of  children,  and  philosophers  tin-  inside  ; 
in  this  respect  the  Caribsare  more  skillful  than  we. 

The  swaddling  of  children  is  a  most  unnatural  martyrdom  ;  it  hinders  all  the 
.ry  iiinvt  menta  of  the  limbs  and  of  tin-  blood.     It  is  an  invention  of  serv- 
ants for  the  sake  of  convenience. 

Mothers  no  longer  nurse  their  children.  Nurses  share  the  children's  love  with 
the  mothers,  while  they  follow  their  pleasures.  II,  re  is  the  ehief  cause  of  the 
dissolution  of  all  family  relations,  of  all  mutual  love  among  members  of  a  family  ; 
each  one  is  thinking  only  of  himself,  and  pursuing  his  own  pl<  a>mv.  And  the 
influence  of  family  life  is  the  best  antidote  to  bad  morals. 

Of  quite  opposite  eharaet-  r  is  the  effeminate  spoiling  of  children  by  mothers. 
Nature  does  not  treat  children  so  ;  by  teething  and  various  other  ways  she  « m-  s 
them  many  pains,  for  the  sake  of  hardening  them.  Why  do  they  not  imitate  na- 
ture in  this.'  (Especially  are  young  children  managed  worst.  Either  ire  do 
every  thing  they  want,  or  require  from  them  every  tiling  we  want  :  \\e  an-  sub- 
jected to  their  whims,  or  th--y  to  ours.  Thus  the  child  commands  before  it  can 
sp'  ;ik,  or  obeys  before  it  can  aet  ;  a  ehild  is  trained  into  a  l)ein«_r  after  our  im- 
agination, not  into  a  natural  man.  If  its  peculiarities  are  to  he  preserved,  the 
maintenance  of  them  must  be  can-d  for  from  the  moment  of  its  birth  until  it 
grows  up  to  be  a  man. 

These  remarks  of  Rousseau  upon  the  duties  of  mothers,  which 
are  in  agreement  with  Comenius,  had  a  very  good  influence. 

4.     Father. 

As  the  mother  is  the  proper  nurse  of  the  child,  the  lather  is  its  proper  teacher. 
The  custom  is,  for  him,  not  to  have  the  IK  <••  ssarv  time;  and  thus  children  are 
placed  in  boarding-schools,  seminaries,  &c.,  where  they  are  deprived  of  all  love ; 
and  the  scattered  members  of  one  family  scarcely  know  each  other.  A  heavy 
•curse  lies  upon  those  who  neglect  their  paternal  duties. 

Rousseau  was  thinking  here  of  his  own  sins.  How  forcibly  does 
•he  speak  of  the  dissolution  of  family  ties ! 


ROUSSEAU'S  EMILE  27 

5.     The   Tutor.     The  Pupil. 

The  father  who  is  otherwise  oceupied,  must  find  a  tutor.  This  tutor  must  be 
well  educated  and  voting;  and,  above  all,  he  should  not  be  employed  for  money  ; 
should  be  no  hireling.*  Jle  must  put  himself  into  close  relations  with  the  pupil  ; 
must  be  his  p!av-fello\v  ;  must  remain  with  him  from  his  birth  to  somewhere  about 
his  twenty -fifth  year  ;  must  be  his  teacher  and  educator. 

This  pupil,  Kmile,  is  suppos.  d  not  to  have  a  particularly  remarkable  mind,  but 
to  be  of  good  birth,  rich,  and  an  orphan.  If  his  parents  were  alive,  he  should 
respect  them,  hut  should  obey  his  tutor  only.  Tutor  and  pupil  should  look  upon 
their  relation  with  <  ach  other  as  indissoluble,  in  order  that  they  may  not  become 
estranged  from  each  oth  r. 

This  pupil  is  supposed,  also,  to  com  •  from  some  country  in  the  temperate  /.one, 
France  for  instance  ;  and  must  he  healthy,  lie  (Rousseau.)  could  not  be  a  wait- 
er upon  s'ck  people,  while  tutor  ;  he  eou'd  not  tdueate  any  child  who  should  be 
a  burden  to  himself  or  to  others.  The  body  must  have  power  to  obey  the  soul  ; 
the  weaker  it  is,  so  much  the  more  will  it  be  faulty  ;  and  the  stronger,  so  mueh 
the  better  will  it  obey. 

Me.iieine  makes  us  mean  ;  if  it  cures  the  body,  it  destroys  the  courage.  Mod- 
eration and  bodily  labor  should  supply  the  place  of  medicine.  Doctors  with 
their  r.-cipes,  philosophers  with  th -ir  pr -eepts.  priests  with  their  admonitions, 
make  the  heart  faint  ;  they  are  the  cause  why  men  foriret  death.  By  nature, 
man  suffers  patiently,  and  dies  in  peace. 

Rousseau  indicates  clearly  that  such  a  tutor  as  he  requires  is  not 
to  be  found,  but  if  he  was  supposing  such  a  one,  why  not  rather  a 
rich  father  like  Pascal's,  to  devote  all  his  time  and  powers  to  the  edu- 
cation of  his  son  ?  There  would  then  have  been  no  need  of  the 
chilling  idea  that  Emile  was  to  honor  his  parents,  but  to  obey  his 
tutor.  The  natural  mutual  love  of  father  and  child  would  have  been 
a  living  motive  of  the  whole  course  of  instruction.  But  of  such  love 
nothing  would  be  said  by  a  man  who  sent  his  own  children  to  the 
foundling  h<»-).it;il  ;  or,  it'  it  is  mentioned,  it  is  never  the  heartfelt 
ba>is  of  his  art  of  education. 

Emile,  it  is  clear  from  this  description,  is,  by  no  means,  an  abso- 
lute, natural  man.  the  personification  of  a  child.  His  native  country, 
climate,  property,  health,  are  all  determined  in  advance. 

The  body  is  very  well  characterized,  as  the  servant  of  the  soul,  but 
health  is  valued  too  highly,  after  the  rude  and  Spartan  manner. 
Rousseau  would  have  thought  tin-  new-born  juggler,  who  called  him- 
self the  northern  Hercules,  well  worthy  of  his  instruction  ;  not  the 
new-born,  weakly,  seven  months'  child,  the  intellectual  He'rcules,  Kep- 
ler. With  characteristic  exaggeration,  Rousseau  entirely  rejects 
medicine,  instead  of  giving  some  positive  idea  of  it. 

Had  Rousseau  seen  a  natural  man  die  in  peace,  or  did  he  feign 
this  peace  after  the  analogy  of  dying  beasts  ?f 

6.     First  Instruction   under  the   Tutor. 

If  the  mother  does  not  nurse  her  child  herself,  the  tutor  must  select  a  nurse, 

'Rousseau  declares  himself  unfit  to  be  a  tutor;  and,  in  writing  upon  pedagogy,  hede 
scribes,  in  his  tutor,  himself. 

t  In  the  second  book  of  Emile  it  is  said  that  savages,  like  beasts,  struggle  little  at  death, 
and  suffer  it  almost  without  complaints. 


og  KOI  -  MILK 

IT"  with  her  and  the  child  into  the  country,  and  not  icmain  in  the  city,  \\liich  is 
unhealthy,  by  reason  of  the  closely  packed  crowd  of  men.*  Baths,  and  crawl, ng 
about,  are  very  good  tor  children.  \Ve  come  into  the  worKl  entirely  ignorant,, 
and  with  an  incapable  body,  but  with  the  capacity  to  learn. 

The  education  of  a  child  begins  with  its  birth  ;  and  who  can  determine  the 
limit  to  which  it  is  possible  for  man  to  attain  ?  By  nine  exp.  ru -nee,  without  any 
instruction,  a  man  will  learn  an  incredible  quantity  in  the  first  year  of  his  life. 
If  all  human  knowledge  were  to  be  divided  into  two  parts,  one  common  to  all 
men,  and  the  >econd  peculiar  to  the  learned,  the  latter  would  be  very  simple  in 
comparison  with  the  former;  the  former  is.  lio\\<\vr.  overlooked,  because  it  is 
learned  early,  without  knowing  it,  before  we  come  to  our  understanding. 

No  habits  should  be  taught  to  children,  no  regular  hours  for  sleeping,  «ating. 
Arc.  He  should  be  accustomed  only  to  have  no  habits  ;  should  be  train,  d  to  in- 
dependence. And  he  should  be  suffered  to  acquire  no  fear  of  ill-looking  animals, 
ma*ks.  ivports  of  weapons.  oVc.  1\  iv.-ption  by  the  senses  atVords  the  tirst  mate- 
rials for  childish  knowledge  ;  it  is  therefore  important,  that  the  impressions  slmuld  be 
caused  to  oeenr  to  him  :n  a  su, table  order.  Especially  lie  should  b<_-  made  to. 
compare  the  impr.  -  _ht  with  those  of  feeling.  By  moving  they  learn  to 

.>p  no  longer  after  distant  things. 

Rousseau'*  advice,  t«>  arrange  methodically  the  tirst  impressions 
upon  the  niiiul  of  tlie  child,  even  before  he  can  speak,  lias  K-eii  fol- 
lowed repeatedly,  a&d,  a>  far  a>  possible.  1>\  l>a>edow,  Wolke.  and 
even  1  Vstalo/zi  ! 

Children  speak,  at  first,  in  the  universal  natural  language,  which  is  not,  it  is 
true,  articulate,  but  is  extended,  and  intelligible.  Nur-<>  understand  better  than 
we  do.  and  converse  in  this  language  with  children  :  any  words  which  they  use 
in  it  are  insignificant;  their  accent  only  being  to  be  considered.  Thoe  are  as- 
sisted by  the  gestures  and  quick  and  varying  pantomime  of  the  children.  Cry- 
ing \s  their  expression  of  hunger,  heat.  cold.  Arc.  Their  elders  try  to  check  and 
soothe  this  crying,  but  often  misunderstand  it.  and  try  to  silence  them  by  coaxing 
or  blows. 

Children's  first  tears  are    :  f  attention   is  paid  to  them,  tin  > 

soon  begin  to  command.  They  begin  with  helping  themselves,  and  with  making 
others  wait  upon  them. 

All  the  had  conduct  of  children  comes  from  weakness  ;  make  them  strong  and 
they  will  be  goc»d.  He  who  can  use  all  his  faculties  will  not  do  ill. 

Before  we"  attain  to  understanding,  there  is  no  morality  in  our  actions  :  "al- 
though expressions  of  it  are  sometimes  seen  in  the  sense  which  children  show  of 
what  others  do  to  them." 

The  destructive  tend.-ncies  of  children  do  not  come  from  wickedness,  but  from 
an  evident  desire  for  activity.  Their  \\ «  vents  the  greater  •  M  >  wh  eh 

they  might  do.     They  <*  -  -  k  to  pake    instruim  Jits  of  their   elders;  to 

make  these  repair  tin-  harm  which  their  weakness  ha-   c;m<ed.     Thus  they  In- 
come vile  tyrants,  and   there  is  develo|»ed  in  them  amb'tion,  which    they  had  not 
originally,  but  which  they  retain  all  the  rest  of  their 

These  strange  and  false  assertions, — and  v\v  shall  find  many  more 
such, — a iv  in. -ant  to  delineate  the  inborn  innoeence  of  children. 
Rousseau  meant  that  it  should  follow,  that  all  evil  conies  into  men 
from  without.  And  evil,  whose  source  is  iiiitnu •« -al-le,  i>  not  bad  ;  is 
not  sour,  but  sweet.  How  opp  urustine  to  Rousseau  !  "  Can 

there  be,"  asks  the  former.  M  any  ofood  in  a  child,  when   he  ci  i 
what  could  only  hurt  him  if  he  got  it  .'     When  he  gets  into  a  violent 
rage  at  grown-up  people  who  an-  not   und.-r  his  authority,  and  e\.-n 

* ««  Man's  breath  is  fatal  to  his  like.  This  is  true,  both  figuratively  and  literally  Cities  ar* 
the  charnel  house  of  the  human  race." 


ROl  SSEAUS  EMILE  29 

at  his  own  parents;  when  lie  tries  to  injure,  by  blows,  those  wiser 
than  lie,  if  they  do  not  obey  him  at  the  moment  ?  it  is  the  weakness 
of  the  limbs  of  infants,  not  their  minds,  that  is  innocent." 

Children,  (to  return  to  Rousseau,)  must  be  helped  where  it  is  necessary,  but 
their  faults  are  not  to  be  attended  to,  and  they  must  be  left  to  help  themselves  as 
much  as  possible. 

The  needless  crying  of  children  will  be  best  quieted  by  paying  no  attention  to 
it ;  for  even  a  child  does  not  willingly  exert  himself  for  nothing.  Crying  can  be 
gti >i>[., •<!  by  turning  the  child's  attention  to  some  striking  object,  without  letting 
him  see  that  that  is  what  is  meant. 

Chijdren  should  be  weaned  when  the  teeth  come. 

Expensive  plaything!  are  superfluous;  cheap  and  simple  ones  are  sufficient. 

Children  hear  talking  before  they  understand  it  or  can  speak  themselves. 
Nurses  may  sing  to  them,  but  should  not  be  continually  talking  before  them  what 
they  do  not  understand.  Some  easy  words  should  be  repeatedly  spoken  before 
them  ;  words  which  mean  things,  and  the  things  should  be  shown  at  the  same 
time.  The  unfortunately  easy  habit  of  being  satisfied  with  words  which  w<-  ilo 
not  understand,  begins  earlier  than  we  think  ;  before  school  age.  The  vocabula- 
ry of  children  should  be  as  simple  as  possible ;  they  should  have  no  more  words 
than  ideas.  Children  have  their  own  grammar.  Their  syntax  has  rules  mm< 
general  than  ours  ;  and  follows  remarkably  certain  analogies,  which  are  not,  how- 
-ever,  always  recognized  by  them.  Thus,  e.  g.,&  child  says,irai-je-t-yl  after 
tlu  analogy  of  vas-y.  Errors  of  children's  language  should  not  be  pedantically 
corrected  :  they  will  disappear  of  themselves  with  time;  only  always  speak  cor- 
rectly before  them. 

It  is  a  great  mistake  to  take  so  much  pains  to  make  children  speak  so  early  ; 
for  by  tb-  se  very  means  they  get  a  knowledge  of  language  more  slowly  and 
confusedly. 

Tli«'  children  of  laborers  speak  more  distinctly  than  the  distorted  children  of 
the  rich.  The  recitations  in  tin-  schools  improve  the  delivery  so  little  that  the 
boys  are  in  the  habit  of  making  use  of  learning  by  rote,  and  gabbling  over  what 
is  to  be  ]••  eit.  il :  and  in  the  recitation  they  hesitate  and  stammer,  whenever  their 
memories  fail. 

Chililr.  n  who  are  made  to  speak  too  soon,  have  not  time  enough  to  become 
•acquainted  with  what  they  are  made  to  talk  about,  and  acquire  wrong  impressions 
of  it.  A  child  ought  not  to  speak  any  further  than  he  can  think.  A  great  fault 
is  an  aeeentless,  expressionless,  feelingless,  way  of  speaking.  The  expression  is 
truer  than  the  words ;  and  perhaps  this  is  the  reason  why  well-bred  people  are 
so  much  afraid  of  the  former,  and  why  they  speak,  all  of  them,  in  the  same  tone ; 
or  they  fall  into  a  ridiculous,  affected,  modish  accent,  such  as  is  so  disagreeable  in 
a  Frenchman. 

Many  of  these  views  of  Rousseau  upon  the  instruction  of  the  ear- 
liest childhood  have  deservedly  found  approval,  although  here  and 
there  approaching  to  extravagance,  especially  in  this;  that  he  would 
liave  French  and  German  children,  <fec.,  managed  like  young  savages, 
while  tlio  whole  course  of  their  life  is  still  unvariedly  French.  Young 
princes  are  to  go  barefoot.  In  requiring  that  children  should  talk  no 
further  than  they  can  think,  Rousseau  coincides  with  Comenius. 

SECOND  BOOK.     EMILE'S  CHILDHOOD  TO  HIS  TWELFTH  YEAR. 

7.  Unnecessary  Sympathy.  Unnecessary  Teaching.  Sacrifices  of  the  Pres- 
ent to  the  Future. 

A  new  period  of  life  begins  with  speech,  which  replaces  much  crying. 

Unnecessary  sympathy  should  not  be  shown  for  the  griefs  of  children;  they 
*hould  learn  to  bear  them. 

They  should  be  taught  nothing  which  they  will  learn  themselves  ;  walking,  for 


ROIV-I  vi  s  i. MII  i: 

in-taiH-  -.      Leading  string  and   otlu  r  -urli    hrlps  a  IT  !    tlirm    fall  and 

uu-adow,  n  hondred   tin,  >       With  tin-  po\\,  i>  ,.!    <h  1 

dim  ih. •!••  L-I..US  iiji  111  tin-in  i!  jiu  thosr  p.  <],  by 

this  <\    in.  nio- 

;iii<l    thuirriorw.ird    fhildiTii    tin  l^tmrant 

:-!ak.-  tlir  ehildn  i  l,ji,l- 

.d's   t'lltUIT  ;    to  whicli   prlha]  - 

D.      <  'hilfll 1,  it  is  fa  !i.  n  .  \il    t    •  \   In- 

ITIII«-.!I.  d.     Is  yoor  knowledge  tben  certain,  tbaf  tins  tin.-  \  -will, 

in  futtir.  .  iti>mv   th--   happin- -vs  of  thr  cliil.l  :      An.l    u  hat    is   hapj>iin>*  .'      l; 
hap  .    .'tiid    In-    iinliai  Do 

•HI  \«'ur  inistakfii  pain-,  than  liuin  nm 
:ily  a  child. 

-ran  i-  ri^ht  in  opposing  the  useless  tearhinir  «-t'  \\liat  th.> 
chikl  will  l.-arn  of  himself;  such  teaching  as  is  found  in  too  many 
of  our  elemen  ob,  1 1  is  rejection  of  the  belief  that  piuii-h- 

men  ^  against  evil  in  children,  follows   fr«»in    hi>  dM.«-lirf  in 

original  sin. 

8.     Dependence  of  Children    instead  of  Obedience. 

'..-  is  truly  free  wishes  only  for  what  is  an  ,.1   thus  .].• 

what  pit-as  •<  1 1    M       Thi«  principle  shoul.l    l>«-  appli.  «1  l<>  rhihlrni. 

:.  '.!  should  I-  •  !  hi«  weakness,  bat  shou 
dependent, bat  li«-  mast  ask,  but  od      II'  <  "j">>  an  iucom- 

om. 

is  a  dependence  upon  things,  based  in  n.  • 
man,  bam.-d  in  the  social  state.     The  '  <!<>  \Mth  ip..rais.  an<t 

;  iterial  <1«  |  • 

!>unishti»  nta  as  hare  •  i  t<> 

bis  assumptions, 

In  \\hit  natur-    r- <[Uirt«*    tor.  nt  cif  thr   In^ly.  thr  ut»no«.t  {KWsible 

-!i"nM  IK-    |  -  .nt  if 

imi*t   I  it-  <-are 

should  b«i  taken  t<»  il 

•«•  paid  to  t! 

in   <-«-urtly  forms  of 

spee-  se«" 

nn.l  I-  m  t»ett»tc  that  tli 

1  have 
no  limit  ;  onl\  (  ,  IchXa 

\  \4iii  i.r  mat  isor- 

!K?  the  cas«  . 

-  i.-  as  littl.  Miital)!.-  for  chiMri.'!!  a- 
^  -liquid  not  have  any  thing  merely  because  hensks  f..i  it. 

;ily  becaose  it  is  necessary  for  him;  he  HUM  <lo  n..thiriLr  iri("i  oli«-«lin but 

tn.in  necessity;  the  words. "  obey"  and  "comma!  -.out 

from  and  still  more  the  words  "  obligai  .luty  :"  Kut  ih.- 

words  "|H.  •' necessity,"  and  "  weakness,"  a  '   mfjatbe  the 

principal  ones  in  his  vocabulary.     Until  the  ehild  comes  to  his  undemanding  he 
can  understand   nothing  of  moral  existence  or  social  r^  rea- 

son \\  them  should  be  avoided,  and  the  child  should  be  re- 

•  1   entin-ly  to  tin-  physical  world. 

Rousseau's  vocalmlary  wants  the  most  important  word  of  all,  lovo, — 
thankful  love;  and,  th.-nf  .re,  in  the  place  of  obedi.  no-,  \\hi.-h  i-  in 
essence  the  same  with  love,  imi-r  1..-  l.iit  a  hard,  heart  rial 


ROUSM.  M    >    I.  MILE.  ;,1 


necessity.      ll«»\v  ditl'iMvnt    IN    tin-    thr«»r\  •  ••!'    1  'e-tal«>//i  ! 

;iti<'ii  U  an  acute  one,  that  cliililivn  j>er\vrt  the  forms  of  request 
•  mmainU;   hi>  naming    i-  V.TV  just,  against  the   unlimited  giv- 

ing to  them  of  every  tiling  th«-v  «le-'nv. 

9.     Reasoning  with  Children. 

Locke's  maxim  is  now  universally  foll..\\  'ed  :   that  children  should 
with.      IJut  the  ivsults  do  not  speak  m  favor  i.f  tin-  piaet  !ren  are  sil- 

lier than  those  who  have  b.  en  mueh  reasoned  with.  CM'  ail  the  faculti.  s.  the 
understand.  nur  is  d-  \  -eloped  the  latest  ;  ati>l  yet  it  is  overstrained  to  make  it  In  Ip 
in  developing  th  •  "th>  is.  This  is  :.  :  the  end.  If  children  understood 

'hem.  fiom  an   early  |»- 

riotl,  what   they  do   m.t    understand.  a.-L'ii>t<>ms   them    to    I.e  .-atistied   with    mere 

-  lid  to  th'-rn,  to  think  tlu-m  selves  as  wise 

hers,  to  be  disputatious  and  perverse,  and  to  do  what  they  are  sup- 
posed to  do  from  reasoiiahle  <  i  e..\.  t"nvi,e>>  ..i  tear  or  van- 

ity, which  are  i;  li.di  arc  «••,'  n  eessity  added  to  those  of  reason. 

hildren  he  children.  If  we  ehoo-,-  f  r.  v.  r-e  the  .  rd.  r  of  things,  we  shall 
get  premature  and  tlav.,il,>s  tru  its.  wh;eh  MH.M  decay  :  we  shall  have  young  doc- 
tors and  old  children.  \\  e  might  as  well  e.xj.  n  to  be  five  feet  high,  as 

to  have  judgment  in  their  tenth  year. 

In  tr  :  the  duty  '  •  and  threats  are 

.  what  is  still  w.  and  promises.     Thus  th.  y  pretend  to  be  con- 

..-on,  when   •  !.y  self-interest,  or  drr 

think  you  have  convineed  them.  u!.  ri.  .1  or  fright'  ried  them. 

Thus  you  accustom   them  to  eonc  •  al    their  r«al   m«>t:\.s   hthind    pr-  t<  nd«  d  ones, 

make  sport  UM   not  a  . 

whieh   is  a  :  to   them   willingly,.;  them  unwil- 

lingly ;  but  let  what  you  refuse  be  irrevocably  refus.  :nty  in- 

11  must 

absolutely   nothinjj  from   the  child,  or  you    ;: 
mony.  to  the  most  imp! 

v  child  in   v.  ,  Impute 

with  him  without  ,  nd  n  u  shall  lw  i 

it  th.it  the  child  should  be  master,  once  for  all. 

Exceedingly  important  truth. 

1".     Against  Jetuitical  Means  of  Education. 

since  children  have  l>. 

i-.'ini:  tliein.  but  niiii  .-ni-ss,  and  debased 

passions. 

- 

think  tli  iren  bid.  in  order 

Mess.     Then  they  say  gravely.  "  Sn.  h  is 
i  is  your  d  - 

.iitimial    j:  'reii;  when  their  backs 

:iij  roguish  tricks. 

Very  true. 

11.     Against  Original  Sin. 

There  is  no  original  depravity  in  the  human  heart  :  there  is  not  one  single  vice 
in  the   heart,  of  \\h,h   itcan'n.-t  be  told  how,  and  by  what  road,  it  came  in 

,'ood. 

out  the  pur- 

pose of  doing  harm.      I;  ha  purpose,  he  would  be  al- 

most hopelessly  bad  * 

N  fn-ttrnrtion  to  the    Twelfth   Year. 

f  children  is  Mi.-h  as  if  ehildr'  n  leaped,  at  one  bound 

"Onthifi  -roduction 


ROUSSEAl  >  I  Mil  i; 

from  the   mother's  breast  to  the  age  of  reason.     An  ml  i  rvly  opposite  method  )• 

the  necessary  on,-;   an    entirely  i  Mj    \\li.ch    does   not  teach   \irtue  ;,nd 

truth,  hut    se,  k»  t««    prenrre  ib«    heart    fr,-m  \,c,-s.  and    tin-  understanding  tVi  m 

:  If  you  can  hrin-r  y«'nr  pupil  t»  his  twelfth  year  healthy  ami  strong,  - 
if  he  could  not  distinguish  his  n«;ht  hainl  tV«'iii  his  left,  tin-  cy,s  of  ln>  nnd<  r- 
standmg  would  open  to  your  first  lesson  in  reason  ;  tor  he  would  have  no  pn  ju- 
.'.ny  thinir  t<»  sUin«l  in  tin-  way  of  the  «  Micaey  of  your  efforts.  II, 
wouli  1  SIM, n  b  come,  under  your  hands,  the  wisest  of  men;  an<l  although  \,>u 
began  with  doing  nothing,  you  would  have  accomplished  a  wonder  of  educa- 
tion. 

Do  the  opposite  of  what  is  usual  and  you  will  almost  always  do  right. 

Fn.in  tin-  effort  to  make  the  child  not  a  child,  hut  a  doctor,  come  the  multiplied 
fault-tindings,  flatteries,  threats,  and  reasonings  of  fathers  and  t,  aeh- -rs.  I',--  i-  a 
sonablc  enough  not  to  reason  with  your  pupil.  Make  him  ;  l>ody,  his 

limhs,  his  senses,  his  faculties;  hut  keep  his  soul  as  inactive  as  possible  ;  let  the 
character  of  childhood  ripen  in  the  child,  lly  such  delay  you  LMIII  tune  to  learn 
the  gradually  dev,|,.|nni;  ,'  \,,ur  |»upil.  1>«  fore  \  ,.u  un,l«-r!ake  to  -;. 

it,  and  make  pree  ikes. 

Rousseau  rightly  opposes  the  unwise  endeavor  to  give  a  child  the 

\\ixlora  of  an  adult,  as  early  as  possible;    in  preferring  rather  to 

!i    nothing,  than  to   use  such   inappropriate  m« •  in-       Th,  i-    i-, 

however,  a  positive  course  of  discipline  of  which  Rousseau,  as  we 

shall  see,  knows  nothing,  and  refuses  to  know  any  thing. 

]•'-.     Education  in  the  Country. 

It  is  difficult,  almost  impottsihlc,  entire!  •   the  child  against  bad  influ- 

ences ;  but  best   in  the  country.     The  teacher   :  ih<- 

love  of  the  neighborhood,  and  thus  to  secure  its  favorable  influences  upon  his 
pupil. 

1  I      Judicial    Instruction. 

It  is  unnatural  to  speak  to  children  <>f  tluir  duties,  ami  n»t  of  their  rights; 
the  Brat  idea  of  right  oomes  to  chiMnn.  not  from  what  they  are  bound  to 
do,  but  from  what  others  are  bound  to  do  for  them 

The  idea  of  property  is  firat  communicated  to  children  by  some  means  more 
effectual  than  mere  explanations. 

Nothing  is  said  about  love. 

15.     Moral  and  Religious  Education. 

The  teacher  is  to  blame  for  all  the  lies  of  children.  Why  does  he  make  so 
many  promise*,  and  make  so  many  impiine*.  uh-n  anything  has  happen 

If  children  are  to  be  made  tak.-n  t««  ehun-h.  where  they  get 

tired.      Us   making  them  ?  ,  :min:ihle  prayers,  they  are  mad-    to  l,,n^  f«>r 

the  happiness  ,.;  .Sliced  to  pray  to  (iod  any  nior,-.     To  teaeh  them 

nevolrnce.  they  are   made  to  give  alms;  as   if  their  teachers  were  ashamed  to 
give  them   themselves.      It   is   not    the  child,  hut  the    te.ich.-r,  who  should   j 
And  u  hat  is  the  child  made  to  give ?     Moi:  ue  to  him  :  or 

something  which  is  always  made  up  to  him  again.     Locke's  advice  i*,  so  to  ar- 
range matters  that  the  "children  shall  observe,  for  themselves,  that    \\i<^<   \\lio 
rlie  hest.     That  is  to  educate,  apparently  to  generosity,  hut   in 
to  avarice. 

iily  moral  instruction  proper  for  children  is,  to  do  nothing  bad.     To  this 
end  they  must  ho  isolated  as  much  as  poss'il'  the  social  state,  the  good 

of  one  is,  by  necessity,  the  evil  ,.f  another. 

(  Inldreii  can  not  possibly  become  perverse,  mean,  false,  and  greedy,  unless 
others  have  sown  the  seeds  of  these  vices  in  their  hearts. 

What  a  frightful  load  of  sins  against  children  does  Rousseau  pile 
upon  the  souls  of  all  parents  and  U*a.-h.-r-  IIMT. -1\  to  liis 


ROUSH.U    -   I. Mil. I-  33 

mistaken    doctrine   <>f  tin;    nun  .-xi-ten.-e    of  original    sin!     After  his 
soj«hi>tu-:il  fashion,  he  gives  his  assertion  the  appearance  of  truth,  by 
a>>uming  that   the  teacher  proceeds  entirely  wrongly,  or  in  a  most 
tJOltt  manner. 

16.     Forming  Opinions  about  Children. 

Ri  al  weakness  of  intellect  is  difficult  to  distinguish  from  that  apparent  v .« -ak- 
ness  which  indicates  a  powerful  min.l.  The  really  stupid  child  is  until  for  any 
thing  ;  the  appaivnily  so.  seems  to  be.  Accordingly,  do  not  form  opinions  about 

children  t a>  :\  ;  let  nature  operate  a  long  time  before  you  venture  to  step  into 

her  place.     The  facility  with  which  children  learn  is  only  apparent  ;  tin  \  only  re- 
tain words  which  they  do  not  understand. 

Very  true. 

17.     Conceptions.     Ideas. 

Conceptions  are  only  the  absolute  pictures  of  natural  objects  ;  ideas  are  notions 
of  such  objects,  determined  by  their  relations.  A  conception  may  be  entirely 
jJone  in  the  mind  ;  but  every  id-  a  supposes  other  ideas.  I'.y  e.>n< .-riving,  we  see; 
by  ideas,  we  compare.  For  mental  impressions,  we  only  hold  ourselves  passive; 
while,  on  th>  contrary,  our  ideas  spring  from  the  active  originating  principle. 
the  child  arrives  at  his  understanding,  he  receives  only  impressions,  such 
as  sounds,  &c. ;  he  does  not  originate  ideas  in  himself,  and  retain  them.  11  > 
incapable  of  judgment,  and  has  no  real  memory. 

18.     Words.     Learning  Language. 

The  pedagogues  teach  children  words,  nothing  but  words,  and  no  real  knowl- 
edge. 

What  has  been  said  I  do  not  believe  ;  that  even  one  child,  such  as  are  called 
remarkable  children,  ever  actually  learned  two  languages,  before  his  twelfth  or  fif- 
teenth y.-ar.  For  each  language  has  its  own  peculiar  spirit,  and  the  thoughts 
iak.-  th>  color  of  the  id 

t'ntil  the  child  comes  to  its  understanding,  it  has  only  its  mother  tongn-       In 
ord.-r  to  be  master  of  two  languages,  it  must  be  able  to  compare  ideas. 
Kut.  it  may  b,-  an-u.  i.d.  there  hav.-  1..-,  n  children  who  have  spoken  fiv. 
languages.     But  how   did    they   s|K-ak    them.'  the  (i.rinan   child,  tor  instance, 
speaks  (i.  rman-l  r.  nch.  n-Italian  ;  so  that,  although  its  words  \\ 

in.  its  language  was. 

••Id   languages  are  dead.     The  imitation  of  what  is  found  in  the  Latin 

classics,  is  called  speaking  Latin.     Boys  are  made  to  translate  French  «nto  Latin 

•nd  att<  i  ward  to  patch  together  phrases  from  Cicero  and  verses  from  Vir- 

-:!.     Th.-n  tl>.   t  -a.  -hers  think  their  scholars  can  speak  Latin  ;  and  where  are  th  • 

people  to  contradict  th.  in  .' 

The  German  boy,  who  speaks  Latin,  usually  says  something  in 
German-Latin,  <>r  nothing,  in  Latin  verses  learned  by  rote. 

Comenius  had  already  zealously  opposed  the  teaching  of  mere 
\\Mi.K  without  any  real  basis;  the  continual  employment  of  scholars 
in  the  world  of  conceptions,  the  world  of  language,  without  concern- 
ing themselves,  in  the  least,  with  the  original  things. 
19.     Geographical  Instruction. 

In  any  science,  a  knowledge  of  representations,  without  that  of  the  things  re- 
presented, is  of  no  value.  In  the  instruction  of  children,  however,  such  repre- 
ss* -illations  are  adhered  to.  Thus,  in  geography,  maps  are  shown,  and  the  names 
of  countries,  places,  &o.,  are  taught,  \\li.n.  t'o'r  the  child,  they  only  exist  on  the 
•  ographical  manual  began  with  the  questions,  "  What  is  the  world  ?" 
An  an-  or'iven  was:  "A  ball  of  pasteboard."  A  tier  I  wo  years  of  the 

usual  instruction  in   ir«'<»£rraphy.  a  -ehoi.ir  emild    not,  l»y  the  rules  Driven,  find  his 
*ay  to  St.  Denis  in  Paris ;  or  find  his  way  in  his  own  father's  garden,  with  a  plan. 


ROUSSEAU'S  EM1LE. 

And  tnese  are  the  doctors  who  have   knowledge  enough  about  Pekin,  Ispahan, 
Mexico,  and  all  the  countries  of  the  earth. 

20.     Instruction  in  History. 

Of  the  historical  matters  taught,  the  scholars  do  not  perceive  the  manner  and 
eonn.-etion.  When  Ale.\an<ler  drank  the  medicine  of  his  physician  who  was  ac- 
cused of  treachery  to  him,  a  boy  wondered  at  him,  because  he  could  swallow 
«!»u  n  sneh  unpleasantly  tasting  stutV  at  one  draught.  So  injudiciously  has  the 
matter  been  managed  by  the  learned. 

21.     Learning  by  Rote. 

Children  should  not  learn  by  rote ;  not  even  La  Fontaine's  fables,  which,  in 
spite  of  their  apparent  simplicity,  no  children  understand,  or  if  they  do,  so  much 
th"  worse. 

22.     Learning  to  Read. 

Reading  is  the  great  misery  of  children.  Entile  must,  in  his  twelfth  year, 
scarcely  know  what  a  book  is.  How  many  artificial  methods  have  be.  n  invented 
for  facilitating  learning  to  read  !  The  most  important  means  to  this  end  is.  that 
the  teacher  awaken  an  interest  in  the  subject,  in  his  scholars.  The  less  he  urges 
and  forces  his  pupils  toward  any  object,  the  more  certain  will  he  be  to  attain  it ;  and. 
while  it  ia  of  little  constant  nee  \\lu-ther  a  boy  can  read  before  his  fifteenth  yt-ar, 
he  may  perhaps  be  able  both  to  write  and  read,  as  early  as  his  tenth. 

The  anxious  and  foolish  apprehensions  of  parents,  lest  their  children 
shall  not  learn  to  read  soon  enough,  seem  to  be  growing  in  our  times, 

every  year. 

23.     Education  for  the  Present. 

If  you  follow  rules  entirely  opposed  to  the  usual  ones,  if  you  take  pains  to  make 
your  pupil  always  collected  in  mind  and  attentive  to  what  concerns  him,  instead 
of  keeping  him  forever  busy  in  other  climates  and  other  times,  even  at  the  ends 
of  the  earth,  and  even  in  the  heavens,  you  will  find  himafterwar-1  titt-  <1  to  under- 
stand, to  retain  in  his  memory,  and  oson  ;  for  such  is  the  course  of  na- 
ture. 

Is  this  life  in  the  present,  one  after  the  manner  of  the  ancient 
Greeks,  or  after  that  of  the  Caribs  ? 

24.     Bodily  Training, 

Exercise  the  body  of  the  pupil  in  every  way.  It  is  a  pitiable  error  to  suppose 
that  this  will  interfere  with  that  of  the  mind.  Only  let  the  pupil  grow  up  without 
being  kept  in  leading-strings  and  tutor.  •;  vp  ;  let  him  be  obliged  to  act 

and  advise  for  himself,  and  he  will  exercise  mind"  and  body  at  the  same  time.  It 
is  in  this  manner  that  free  savages  exercise  their  bodies  ;  and  not  servile  laborers. 
Let  the  pupil  combine  the  understanding  of  a  wise  man  with  the  strength  of  an 
athlete  ! 

"  Free  savages,"  "  athletes," — words  worthy  of  consideration. 
25.     Rules  for  the  Conduct  of  the  Tutor. 

It  is  a  difficult  art  to  manage  the  pupil  without  constant  orders,  and  to  do  every 
thing  as  if  one  were  doing  nothing. 

A  child  usually  reads  the  mind  of  the  teacher  much  more  easily  than  does  the 
teacher  the  child's  ;  so  that  the  child  usually  has  the  advantage  of  the  teacher 
here. 

Govern  so  that  the  child  shall  think  itself  free,  and  shall  not  be  stimulated  to 
search  for  your  weaknesses  and  watch  you. 

The  caprices  of  children  are  mostly  the  result  of  a  mistaken  education  ;  of  their 
being  permitted  to  command  as  they  wish,  and  being  obeyed. 

Truths  which  Rousseau  seems  to  have  taken  from  his  own  experi- 
ence ;  for  he  was  a  tutor. 

26.      The  Body  a  Medium  for  Educating  the  Mind.     Hardening. 
What  tin-  human  re«  -  thnaurh  the  senses,  the  senses  are  the 


ROUSSEAU'S  EMILE.  35 

basis  of  the  intellectual ;  our  feet,  our  hands,  our  eyes,  first  teach  us  philosophy. 
For  this  reason  we  must  train  the  members  and  senses  as  the  instruments  of  our 
intellect,  and  for  this  rejison  the  body  must  be  sound  and  strong.  <  iyiimastie.s 
gave  to  the  ancients  that  strength  of  body,  in  which  they  so  remarkably  -v.il,  <i 
the  moderns. 

Loose  clothing  should  be  given  children,  in  which  they  may  feel  free  and  at 
ease.  Even  in  winter  they  should  wear  summer  clothing  ;  they  should  have  no 
covering  for  the  head,  and  should  drink  cold  water  even  when  they  are  hot. — 
They  should  not  sleep  in  a  soft  bed.  It  is  more  important  to  be  able  to  swim  than 
tn  rid ••. 

Rousseau  praises  Locke's  method  of  hardening  children's  bodies, 
except  that  he  rejects  his  cautions  against  drinking  and  lying  on  the 
damp  ground,  when  the  child  is  hot.  His  hatred  of  French  effemi- 
nacy, and  his  admiration  of  the  Carib  mode  of  hardening  the  body, 
make  him  push  every  thing  to  exaggeration. 

27.     Education  of  the  Senses.     Feeling. 

The  senses  develop  them*.  ]v.  s  .-arliest  in  children;  and  therefore  the  attention 
should  be  first  turned  toward  completing  that  development.  But  this  is  what 
most  persons  forget  or  neglect.  Train  not  only  the  active  powers  of  children,  but 
all  the  senses  which  regulate  those  powers.  Benefit  each  sense  as  much  as  pos- 
sible ;  and  prove  tin-  impi-«>sion  made  upon  one  sense  by  that  upon  another.  Let 
the  pupil  measure,  count,  weigh,  and  compare.  The  Mind  have  the  most  acute 
touch  ;  seeing  children  could  cultivate  the  same  by  practice  and  plays  in  the  dark  ; 
by  which  those  fears  which  the  activity  of  the  imagination  occasions  in  the  dark, 
would  be  removed. 

The  tips  of  the  fingers  should  be  fine  skinned  and  susceptible  ;  many  things 
can  be  known  more  clearly  and  certainly  by  the  touch  than  by  the  eye.  On  the 
contrary  the  soles  of  the  feet  should  be  hardened  by  going  barefoot. 

Rousseau  is  quite  right  in  laying  stress  upon  the  training  of  the 
senses.  But  he  does  it  in  such  a  manner  that  he  seems  to  be  show- 
ing how  to  train  a  Carib  child  for  the  exact  sciences  of  the  French, 
or  a  French  child  for  the  life  of  a  savage.  Nothing  is  said  of  the  edu- 
cation of  the  eyes  for  the  beautiful ;  as  nothing  is  said  anywhere  of 
the  beautiful,  but  only  of  the  u>oful. 

28.     Sef.ing.     Drawing  and  Geometry. 

The  vision  often  errs  by  reason  of  its  wide  field  of  operations  and  the  multitude 
of  objects  which  it  embraces  ;  whieh  render  it  liable  to  hasty  judgments.  The 
illusions  of  perspective  are  indispensable  for  the  measurement  of  distances  ;  without 
the  gradations  of  size  and  light,  we  could  measure  no  distances,  or  rather  there 
would  be  none  to  us.  If  a  large  tree  one  hundred  paces  distant,  seemed  as  large 
and  distinct  as  another  only  ten  paces  distant,  it  would  appear  to  us  that  they 
stood  together.  If  two  objects  appeared  to  us  of  their  actual  size,  we  should  have 
no  knowledge  of  places. 

The  size  of  the  angle  at  the  eye,  at  which  we  see  objects,  is  determined  by  their 
size  and  distance.  But  how  shall  we  distinguish,  when  one  object  appears  small- 
er to  us  than  another,  whether  this  is  by  reason  of  its  real  size,  or  of  its  greater 
distance  ? 

Children  must  be  practiced  in  estimating  sizes  and  distances,  as  architects,  field 
surv.-yors.  Are.,  are.  Without  feeling,  without  movement,  with  measuring,  the 
best  of  eyes  can  L'ive  us  no  idea  of  room.  For  the  oyster,  the  universe  is  a  point. 
With  this  exercise  of  children  in  estimating  distances,  is  connected  drawing,, 
which  depends  entirely  upon  the  laws  of  perspective.  They  should  not  however 
[>ies,  but  should  draw  from  nature;  and  in  this  it  is  of  more  importance 
that  th^y  see  and  understand  coneetly,  than  that  they  should  draw  artistically. 

Geometry,  like  drawing,  is  for  children    an  exercise  of  the  eye,  based  upon  see- 


36  ROUSSEAU'S  EM1LE. 

ing.  Make  correct  figures,  put  them  together,  place  one  upon  the  other,  aua 
prove  their  relations.  By  proceeding  from  observation  to  observation,  you  will  go 
on  through  the  whole  of  elementary  geometry,  without  seeing  any  thing  of  defini- 
tions or  problems,  or  of  any  other  form  of  demonstration,  except  that  of  superim- 
position. 

Correctness  in  diagrams  is  usually  neglected  ;  the  figure  is  shown,  and  the 
demonstration  given.  But  it  would  be  of  much  more  value  to  draw  linfei  as 
straight,  correct,  and  similar  as  possible,  and  squares  and  circles  as  true  as  possible. 

In  Turin,  they  gave  a  boy  cakes  of  the  same  size,  but  of  the  most  various  shapes ; 
he  tried  every  possible  means  to  determine  which  form  held  the  most.  '  , 

Children's  plays  should  exercise  their  eyes,  and  all  their  members.  How  much 
can  be  accomplished  in  this  direction  is  shown  by  the  feats  of  rope-dancers.  Is 
there  any  children's  diversion  which  the  instructor  can  not  make  instructive  to 
them? 

What  Rousseau  here  says  of  teaching  geometry  is  worthy  of  spe- 
cial consideration.  From  real  pure  geometrical  drawings  there  are  de- 
veloped true  and  pure  geometrical  ideas. 

29.     Hearing.     Speaking  and  Singing. 

The  child  should  compare  such  impressions  on  the  sight  and  hearing  as  belong 
together  ;  as,  for  instance,  that  the  lightning  is  seen  before  the  thundar  is  heard. 
The  voice,  as  an  active  organ,  corresponds  with  the  passive  one  of  the  hearing; 
and  they  assist  each  other. 

The  pupil  should  speak  in  a  plain  manner.  He  should  not  be  permitted  to  de- 
claim ;  he  should  have  too  much  sound  sense  to  express,  with  tones  and  feelings 
which  he  has  not,  things  which  he  does  not  understand.  Teach  him  to  speak  dis- 
tinctly, without  hesitation,  without  affectation,  and  loud  enough  to  be  understood  ; 
teach  him  to  sing  correctly  and  in  tune,  but  no  operatic  music  ;  train  his  ear  for 
time  and  harmony. 

Rousseau's  musical  faculty  made  him  forget  his  Iroquois  ideal ;  and 
he  does  not  ask  the  question,  what  is  the  use  of  music  ? 

30.  The  Taste. 

In  the  beginning,  that  nourishment  was  most  healthful  for  simple  men  which 
tasted  best.  In  children  this  primitive  taste  should  be  preserved  as  much  as  pos- 
sible ;  their  food  should  be  common  and  simple,  not  high  seasoned  ;  flesh  is  im- 
proper for  them.  Of  the  proper  food  they  should  be  permitted  to  eat  as  much  as 
they  wish.  Eating  is  the  passion  of  children.  Therefore  they  should  be  managed 
iby  means  of  their  palate  ;  this  natural  and  appropriate  motive  is  far  prefer- 
able to  those  of  vanity.  Love  of  eating  will  decrease  and  vanity  will  increase  with 
years. 

31.  The  Smell. 

This  is  related  to  the  taste,  as  sight  is  to  feeling.  In  children  it  is  not  very  ao 
live. 

32.  The  Common  Sense.     Formation  of  Ideas.* 

A  sixth  sense  comes  from  a  proper  employment  of  the  other  senses;  namely  : 
*'  the  common  sense."  This  is  resident  in  the  brain  ;  and  its  sensations  are  called 
perceptions,  or  ideas.  (?)  The  number  of5  these  ideas  indicates  the  extent  of  our 
knowledge  ;  and  the  power  of  comparing  them  with  each  other  is  called  human 
reason.  The  sensitive,  or  child's  reason,  forms  simple  ideas,  by  bringing  together 
several  impressions  upon  the  senses ;  the  intellectual  reason  forms  compound  ideas 
from  several  simple  ones. 

33.  Character  of  Emile,  at  Twelve  Years  Old. 

His  exterior  indicates  self-possession  and  ease ;  he  speaks  with  simplicity,  and 
.does  not  talk  unnecessarily.  His  ideas  are  confined  and  clear;  he  knows  nothing 
.by  rote,  but  much  by  experience.  If  he  does  not  read  so  well  in  books,  he  reads 

*  Sec.  17,  42. 


ROUSSEAU'S  EMILE.  37 

better  in  the  book  of  nature  ;  he  has  less  memory  than  power  of  judgment;  he 
speaks  but  one  language,  but  understands  what  he  says.  If  he  does  not  speak  so 
well  as  others,  he  is  much  more  capable  of  doing.  He  knows  nothing  of  routine, 
custom,  or  habit ;  and  what  he  did  yesterday  does  not  indicate  what  he  will  do  to- 
day. Neither  authority  nor  example  impose  upon  him  5  he  does  and  says  only 
what  seems  good  to  him.  He  knows  nothing  of  study,  speech,  or  manners  ;  but 
his  language  corresponds  with  his  ideas,  and  his  behavior  arises  from  his  wishes. 

He  has  few  moral  ideas,  but  they  are  such  as  correspond  to  his  age.  Speak  to- 
him  of  duty  or  obedience,  he  does  not  know  what  you  mean  ;  order  him,  he  doe» 
not  understand  you  ;  but  say  to  him,  if  you  will  do  this  to  please  me,  I  will  some- 
time do  something  to  please  you,  and  he  will  instantly  exert  himself  to  comply 
with  your  wish  ;  for  nothing  will  please  him  more  than  to  add  to  his  legitimate 
influence  over  you,  which  he  holds  inviolable. 

If  he  needs  help  himself,  he  makes  use  of  the  first  that  comes  to  hand,  whether 
it  be  a  king  or  a  servant ;  for  all  men  are  alike  to  his  sight.  He  shows  to  him. 
whom  he  asks,  that  he  does  not  consider  any  one  bound  to  grant  his  request. 
He  is  simple  and  laconic  in  his  expressions,  and  neither  servile  nor  arrogant. 
Grant  his  request,  and  he  does  not  thank  you,  but  feels  that  he  is  your  debtor  •, 
refuse  it,  and  he  does  not  complain  nor  urge  you,  but  lets  the  matter  drop. 

Lively,  active,  he  undertakes  nothing  too  great  for  his  powers,  but  which  he 
has  tried  and  understands.  He  has  an  observing  and  intelligent  eye  ;  and  asks  no 
useless  questions  about  what  he  sees,  but  examines  it  himself.  As  his  imagination 
is  yet  inactive,  and  nothing  has  been  done  to  stimulate  it,  he  sees  only  what  really 
exists,  does  not  over-estimate  danger,  and  is  always  cool. 

Business  and  play  are  the  same  to  him,  his  play  is  his  business ;  he  finds  no 
difference  between  them.  Among  city  children,  there  is  none  more  dexterous 
than  he,  and  all  are  weaker;  he  is  equal  to  country  children  in  strength,  and 
surpasses  them  in  dexterity.  He  is  fit  to  lead  his  companions,  by  -his  talent  and 
experience,  without  any  other  authority,  without  wishing  to  command ;  he  is  at  the 
head  of  the  rest,  and  they  obey  him  without  knowing  it. 

He  is  a  mature  child,  and  has  lived  a  child's  life  ;  his  happiness  has  not  been 
exchanged  for  his  education.  If  he  dies  young,  his  death  is  to  be  mourned,  but 
not  his  life. 

Ordinary  men  would  not  understand  a  boy  so  trained ;  they  would  see  in  him 
nothing  but  a  scapegrace.  A  teacher  could  make  no  parade  with  him,  could  ask 
him  no  show  questions  ;  and  those  are  the  chief  of  the  education  of  the  day. 

A  healthy,  strong,  dexterous,  corporeally  well-trained  boy,  systematic- 
ally educated,  for  a  purely  earthly  existence,  and  for  cold  independ- 
ence ;  a  Frenchified  Carib,  or  Caribized  French  boy,  without  fancy, 
poetry,  love,  or  God. 

THIRD  BOOK.     EMILE,  FROM  HIB  TWELFTH  TO  HIS  FIFTEENTH  YEAR. 
34.     Desire  of  Knowledge.     Methods.     Regard  for  Authority. 

Curiosity  will  now  begin  to  operate,  and  will  henceforth  stimulate  the  boy. 
With  natural  curiosity  is  connected  the  vain  endeavor  to  appear  learned.  Im- 
pressions upon  the  senses  must  be  developed  into  ideas ;  only,  we  should  not  pass 
too  suddenly  from  material  to  intellectual  objects.  The  world  and  things  in  books 
must  be  the  teachers  ;  mere  words  should  not  be  learned. 

The  pupil  knows  nothing  because  you  have  said  it  to  him,  but  because  he  has 
comprehended  it ;  he  does  not  learn  his  acquirements  ;  he  discovers  them.  If 
once  you  give  him  authority,  instead  of  reason,  he  will  no  longer  think  for  him- 
self, but  wi'll  be  the  sport  of  strange  opinions. 

One  extreme  introduces  another.  Because  earlier,  ignorant,  and 
harsh  teachers  treated  boys  like  empty  vessels,  which  they  were  to  fill 
up  with  Latin  vocables,  geometrical  demonstrations,  &c.,  therefore, 
according  to  Rousseau,  now  they  must  find  out  every  thing  for  them 
selves  ;  because  earlier  tyrannical  teachers  based  every  thing  on  author- 


38  ROUSSEAU'S  EMLLE. 

ity  maintained  by  force,  now  all  at  once  there  is  to  be  no  authority 
at  all.  From  the  pedagogical  age  of  Louis  XIV.,  we  are  to  be  trans- 
ferred at  once  into  the  age  of  the  revolution. 

Woe  to  the  boy  to  whom  no  authority  is  sacred  ;  who  is  destitute 
of  all  reverence  and  love  toward  his  parents  and  teachers. 
35.     Rudiments  of  Astronomy. 

A  beautiful  sunrise.  -  The  teacher  is  in  an  ecstacy ;  but  the  boy  of  thirteen  is 
not  yet  ready  to  take  pleasure  in  a  beautiful  spring  morning.  It  would  be  foolish 
for  the  teacher  to  take  pains  to  talk  the  pupil  into  his  own  enthusiasm. 

No  writings  are  proper  for  a  boy,  no  eloquence  or  poetry  ;  he  has  no  business 
with  feeling  or  taste.  Be  to  him  clear,  simple,  and  cold ;  direct  his  attention  to 
the  places  of  the  rising  and  the  setting  of  the  sun,  and  let  him  wonder  how  it  gets 
back  from  the  west  to  the  east.  The  observation  that  it  passes  from  the  east  to 
west  every  day  will  suggest  an  answer.  Again,  draw  his  attention  to  the  change 
of  the  place  of  sunrise  and  sunset  at  different  seasons  of  the  year.  All  this  must 
be  done  without  any  armillary  sphere  ;  its  circles  confuse  the  pupil. 

Either,  according  to  Rousseau,  we  must  boil  over  with  pseudo- 
poetry,  at  a  beautiful  sunrise,  or — as  he  recommends  before  the  boy  of 
twelve — freeze  with  astronomical  observations.     Is  there  no  medium  ? 
36.     Rudiments  of  Geography  and  Physics.     Methods. 

Geographical  instruction  should  begin  with  the  house  and  place  of  abode.  The 
pupil  should  draw  maps  of  the  neighborhood,  to  learn  how  they  are  made,  and 
what  they  show. 

It  is  of  less  importance  to  teach  the  boy  sciences,  than  to  give  him  a  taste  for 
them,  and  methods  for  learning  them  when  that  taste  shall  have  been  more  de- 
veloped. At  this  age,  also,  he  should  be  taught  to  follow  up  one  subject  with 
persevering  attention,  but  yet  not  to  weariness.  If  he  asks  questions  for  his  own 
information,  answer  him  just  so  much  as  is  necessary,  in  order  to  stimulate  his 
curiosity  ;  but  do  not  let  him  weary  you  with  endless  silly  questions.  Philosophy 
developes  the  sciences  from  their  principles ;  but  instruction  does  not.  In  this, 
each  subject  explains  and  introduces  another,  and  thus  curiosity  keeps  alive  the 
attention. 

If  the  pupil  has  found  out  the  noon-mark,  by  a  shadow,  and  drawn  it,  show 
him  that  the  compass  will  give  him  the  same  line. 

Instruction  in  physics  should  begin  with  the  simplest  experiments,  not  with 
instruments.  These  must  follow  after  such  experiments ;  and,  though  ever  so 
imperfect,  should  be  constructed  by  the  teacher  and  the  pupil,  themselves.  By 
such  independent  efforts  are  attained  ideas  of  greater  clearness  and  certainty. 

The  numerous  instruments  which  have  been  invented  to  guide  us  in  experiments, 
and  to  make  up  for  the  defective  accuracy  of  the  senses,  are  the  reason  why  the 
senses  are  less  used.  The  more  perfect  our  tools  are,  the  more  blunt  and  in- 
efficient will  our  organs  become. 

Purely  speculative  knowledge  is  not  for  children  ;  not  even  when  they  approach 
the  age  of  youth.  Yet  it  must  be  contrived  that  their  experiments  shall  form  a 
chain,  by  the  aid  of  which  they  may  be  better  retained  in  the  memory  ;  for  facts 
and  demonstrations  entirely  isolated  do  not  remain  there. 

In  investigating  nature's  laws,  begin  always  with  thp  more  common  and  obvious 
phenomenon. 

This  is  a  most  valuable  observation  upon  elementary  instruction  in 
the  natural  sciences.  Comenius  already,  and  Pestalozzi  afterward, 
commenced  the  study  of  Geography  with  the  immediate  neighborhood. 
Any  bright  boy  will,  however,  make  himself  acquainted  with  it,  if  he 
is  permitted,  without  taking  wearisome  topographical  walks  with  his 


ROUSSEAU'S  EMILE.  39 

teacher.  Nothing  should  be  taught  which  the  boy  will  freely  learn 
himself,  without  any  assistance.  Rousseau's  tutor,  always  teaching 
the  boys  something  in  every  trip,  and  even  in  every  game,  would 
necessarily  become  intolerable  to  them. 

37.     No  Authority. 

The  boy  should  do  nothing  at  the  word  ;  nothing  is  good  to  him  except  what 
he  himself  recognizes  &s  good.  By  your  wisdom  you  rob  him  of  his  mother- wit ; 
he  becomes  accustomed  always  to  be  led,  and  to  be  only  a  machine  in  the  hands 
of  others.  To  require  obedience  of  the  child,  means  to  require  that,  when  grown 
up,  he  shall  be  credulous ;  shall  be  made  a  fool  of.  It  is  of  no  use  to  say  to  the  boy 
that  he  is  ordered  for  his  own  good,  and  that,  when  he  is  grown  up,  he  will  see  it. 
To  do  so  is  to  play  into  the  hands  of  every  visionary  charlatan  and  impostor,  who 
shall  in  after  life  desire  to  entangle  the  boy  in  his  nets.* 

38.  Against  premature  Learning.  "  What  is  the  Use  ?" 
The  child  should  learn  what  is  necessary  for  his  own  age  ;  and  not,  premature- 
ly, what  will  be  necessary  in  after  years.  But,  you  say,  can  what  is  necessary  be 
learned,  at  the  moment  when  it  is  to  be  applied  ?  I  answer,  I  know  not ;  but  this 
I  know,  that  it  can  not  be  learned  before ;  for  our  real  teachers  are  experience  and 
feeling ;  we  only  learn  what  is  right  in  the  experiences  of  actual  life.  When  we 
have  given  the  pupil  the  idea  of  usefulness,  we  have  thus  a  new  mode  of  guiding 
him  ;  he  sees  that  this  word  is  related  to  his  present  well-being.  "  What  is  the 
use  of  it?"  is  the  sacred  question,  the  word  which  must  decide  every  thing  be- 
tween the  teacher  and  the  scholar  ;  it  is  the  question  with  which  the  former  can 
answer  the  host  of  useless  questions  of  the  latter,  and  which  he  again  can,  upon 
occasion,  put  to  the  teacher. 

There  are  harmful  anticipations  in  learning,  but  there  are  also 
necessary  ones.  Seeds  may  be  planted  in  the  child's  mind  which 
shall  sleep  for  years  as  if  dead,  but  which  shall  spring  into  life  at  the 
right  moment.  Old  men  encourage  themselves,  in  the  hour  of  death, 
with  verses  from  the  funeral  hymns  which  they  learned  when  chil- 
dren. 

39.     Strengthening  the  Weak.     Laconicism.     Vanity  as  a,  Motive. 

Who  is  the  teacher  who  can  confess  to  the  scholar  that  he  has  erred  ?  If  the 
teacher  has  no  answer  at  hand  to  the  scholar's  question,  he  should  say  so  without 
more  ado. 

Above  all,  avoid  tedious  explanations,  which  are  often  made  by  teachers,  only 
with  a  view  to  show  themselves  off  to  visitors  who  may  be  present. 

Adhere  to  facts.  We  lay  too  much  stress  upon  words  ;  and  our  talking  educa- 
tion trains  up  talkers.  A  boy  who  is  lost  will  find  out  better  how  to  set  himself 
right  by  the  sun,  than  he  would  by  a  long  demonstration.  Wherever  possible, 
teach  by  things  themselves. 

What  the  boy  learns  only  through  an  appeal  to  his  vanity,  he  had  better  not 
learn  at  all. 

Very  true. 

40.     Books.     Robinson   Crusoe.     Workshops. 

From  books  men  learn  to  talk  about  what  they  do  not  understand.  But  there 
is  one  book  which  may  be  considered  as  a  most  valuable  treatise  upon  natural  educa- 
tion ;  a  book  which  might,  for  a  long  time,  constitute  the  entire  library  of  the  pu- 
pil ;  namely,  Robinson  Crusoe.  Robinson,  alone  upon  an  island,  obliged  himself 
to  make  every  thing  necessary  to  him,  becomes  the  boy's  ideal ;  he  will  ask  only 
for  what  would  be  necessary  for  him  upon  a  Robinson's  island. 

The  teacher  should  frequent  workshops,  with  his  pupil,  and  should  permit  him 
to  take  hold  of  the  work  himself ;  and  by  this  means  he  will  learn  to  understand 

•  See  34. 


10  ROUSSEAU'S  EMILE. 

them  better  th;in  by  many  explanations,  lie  will  learn  at  tin-  saint-  time  to  value- 
more  highly  really  useful  artisans,  than  the  so-called  artists,  who  are  so  much 
esteemed  by  the  world.  He  will  esteem  more  highly  a  locksmith  than  a  gold- 
smith;  engravers  and  gilders  will  be,  in  his  eyes,  only  idlers,  busy  in  us.-l.-ss 
amus, -ments  ;  even  watehmakers  will  be  of  small  aeeount  with  him.  He  will  re- 
speet  all  human  labor,  and  in  like  manner  all  produetions  of  nature,  in  proportion 
as  they  Contribute  more  to  his  necessities,  his  knowledge,  and  his  comfort.  Ik- 
will  value  iron  more  highly  than  gold,  glass  than  diamonds. 

It  is  not  meant  that  the  pupil  should  beeome  aet|uaintetl  with  everv  trade,  but 
only  that  he  should  know  the  most  necessary  ones,  and  their  COIIIH  etion  with  eaeh 
other. 

Here  it  appears  more  clearly  what  Rousseau  means  by  his  ques- 
tion, What  is  the  use  ?  He  barbarously  only  values  what  is  necessary 
for  human  subsistence,  to  a  life  as  nearly  as  possible  to  that  of  a  beast. 
Watchmakers  would  be  of  but  little  account  with  him ;  he  does  not 
even  mention  the  higher  arts,  the  fine  arts,  so  useless  do  they  seem 
to  him. 

11.     Equality.     Revolution.     Learning  and  Trade. 

Your  education  of  men  should  be  adapted  to  what  they  are  in  themselves;  not 
to  any  thing  external.  By  training  him  exclusively  for  one  condition,  you  make 
him  until  for  any  other,  and  unfortunate,  if  his  situation  should  ever  change. 
How  ridiculous  is  a  great  lord  who  has  become  a  beggar,  and  who  holds  in  his 
•«  the  prejudices  of  his  birth;  how  contemptible  the  rieh  man  become 
poor,  who  fools  himself  completely  degraded! 

You  acquiesce  in  the  social  order  of  the  present,  without  considering  that  this 
order  is  subject  to  unavoidable  changes ;  and  that  it  is  impossible  for  you  to  fore- 
see or  to  prevent  the  revolution  which  may  come  upon  your  children.  The  great 
will  become  small,  the  rich  poor,  the  monarch  a  subject.  We  are  approaching  a 
crisis;  the  e.-ntury  of  revolutions.  It  is  impossible  that  the  great  m«na]. 
Europe  can  last  long.  And  who  can  say  what  shall  then  happen  to  you?  What 
men  have  made,  men  can  destroy;  only  the  character  given  by  nature  is  in«l«  -s- 
tructible;  and  nature  makes  neither  princes,  nor  rich  men,  nor  great  lords.  What 
will  the  satrap  do  in  his  debasement,  who  has  been  educated  only  for  his  high  po- 
sition ?  What  will  the  farmer- general  do.  in  his  [Miverty,  who  lives  only  UJMHI  his 
money  ?  Happy  will  he  be,  then,  who  shall  understand  how  to  leave  the  condition 
which  has  left  him,  and  to  remain  a  man  in  spite  of  fate.  The  cultivation  of  the 
earth  is  the  best  of  all  employments  ;  yet.  when  evil  times  come,  the  artisan  is 
more  independent.  Make  your  son,  therefore,  learn  some  respectable  trade,  the 
carpenter's  for  example.  This  will  also  serve  to  cure  him  of  the  prejudices 
against  trades.  Only  beware  of  nourishing  one  vanity  while  you  are  exerting 
yourself  to  oppose  another. 

The  great  secret  of  education  is,  to  manage  it  so  that  the  training  of  the  mind 
and  body  shall  serve  to  assist  each  other. 

Here  Rousseau  foretells  the  revolution  almost  thirty  years  before  its 
coming.  As  a  great  architect  outlines  the  church  whose  form  stands 
before  his  mind,  before  even  the  corner-stone  is  laid,  so  the  great 
master  of  destruction  draws  the  picture  of  horrors  and  dissolution 
before  the  soul,  before  the  multitude  taught  by  him  put  hand  to  the 
work. 

42.     Impressions  upon  the  Senses.     Ideas.     Opinions* 

Aft.-r  the  body  and  senses  of  the  pupil  have  first  been  educated,  we  should 
tram  his  understanding  and  his  judgment.  lastly,  we  should  teach  him  to  u<e 
bis  brains  in  the  service  of  his  faculties.  \V,  have  made  of  him  an  acting,  think- 

*  Comp.  32. 17. 


ROUSSEAU'S  EMILE.  41 

ing  being;  to  make  him  a  complete  man,  we  must  make  him  also  a  living  and 
feeling  being,  that  is,  \\.  must  supplement  reason  with  his  feelings. 

As  at  first  the  pupil  has  only  sensations,  so  now  he  has  ideas  and  forms  judg- 
m.-nts.  By  the  comparison  of  several  of  these,  following  each  other  all  at  the 
same  time,  and  by  a  judgment  upon  them,  there  results  a  sort  of  compound  im- 
pi'i  ssi.ms  which  1  eall  ideas.  In  simple  impressions  upon  the  senses,  the  judg- 
ment is  merely  passive  ;  it  only  makes  certain  of  the  actuality  of  the  sensations  ; 
in  |>< •iv.'ptioii.  or  the  idea,  it  is  active,  placing  together,  comparing  and  determin- 
ing relations  which  the  senses  do  not  determine. 

The  judgment  leads  to  error,  particularly  in  the  case  of  learned  men,  whose 
vain  til-sire  to  shine  by  giving  opinions  outruns  their  knowledge.  Ignorance, 
wh'ch  says  "  What  have  I  to  do  with  it?"  is  the  only  safety  from  error.  Thus 
speak  savages  and  wise  men.  Our  pupil  must  not  speak  so;  lie  is  a  savage,  but 
destined  to  live  in  cities. 

We  learn  best  to  judge  by  laboring  to  simplify  our  experience,  and,  having 
acquired  experience,  by  seeking  rather  to  avoid  error  than  a  positive  knowledge 
of  the  truth  ;  and  by  rather  confessing  ignorance,  than  by  endeavoring  to  explain 
any  thing  insufficiently. 

43.     Emilc  in  his  Fifteenth  Year. 

Being  obliged  to  learn  by  means  of  himself,  he  uses  his  own  understandingr 
not  that  of  other  men  ;  and  yields  nothing  to  authority.  For  most  of  our  errors 
come  less  from  ourselves  than  from  others.  By  this  continual  practice,  his  mind 
has  acquired  a  strength  like  that  which  is  given  to  the  body  by  labor  and  hard- 
ship. For  the  same  reason  his  powers  develop  themselves  only  in  proportion  to- 
his  growth.  He  remembers  only  what  has  commended  itself  to  his  understand- 
ing. Thus  he  has  little  knowledge,  but  no  half-knowledge.  He  knows  that  his 
knowledge  is  not  i;r«-at ;  his  mind  is  open,  decided,  and,  if  not  instructed,  at  least 
capable  of  instruction.  Of  all  that  he  does  he  knows  the  use,  and  of  all  he  be- 
lii-vt-s,  the  reason.  He  proceeds  slowly,  but  thoroughly.  He  possesses  only 
natural  knowledge ;  none  of  history,  and  none  of  mathematics  and  ethics.  He 
knows  little  of  generalizing  and  forming  abstractions ;  he  observes  properties 
common  to  many  bodies,  without  reasoning  upon  the  existence  of  these  properties. 
What  is  strange  to  him  he  values  only  by  its  relations  to  himself,  but  this  valua- 
tion is  sufficient  and  certain.  What  is  most  useful  to  him  he  values  most,  and- 
cares  nothing  for  opinion. 

Emile  is  laborious,  moderate,  patient,  persevering,  and  courageous.  His  thn<  y, 
not  heated  in  any  way,  never  magnifies  danger  ;  he  can  endure  sorrow  with  forti- 
tude, for  he  has  not  been  trained  to  oppose  himself  to  fate.  What  death  is,  he 
does  not  rightly  know,  but,  being  a  accustomed  to  submit  without  resistance  to  the 
laws  of  necessity,  he  will  die,  when  he  must,  without  sighing  and  without  pre- 
tense. Nature  does  not  require  more  of  us,  in  that  moment,  so  abhbrred  by  all. 
To  live  free,  to  set  the  heart  as  little  as  possible  upon  human  things,  is  the  surest 
means  of  learning  to  di< -. 

Emile  is  destitute  of  the  social  virtues.  He  acts  without  respect  to  others ;  and 
it  is  right  in  his  eyes  that  others  should  have  no  regard  to  him.  He  makes  DO 
demands  upon  others,  he  thinks  himself  under  no  obligation  to  any  one.  Stand- 
ing alone  in  society,  he  counts  only  upon  himself,  and  is  capable  of  more  than 
others  at  his  age.  He  has  no  errors  or  vices,  except  such  as  are  unavoidable. 
His  body  is  healthy,  his  members  are  disciplined,  his  understanding  correct  and 
without  prejudices,  his  heart  free  and  without  passions.  Self-esteem,  first  and 
most  natural  of  all  the  passions,  has  scarcely  awakened  in  him.  Without  des- 
troying the  peace  of  any  one,  he  has  lived  as  peacefully,  happily,  and  freely  a* 
nature  will  permit.  Do  you  find  that  the  child,  thus  educated  to  his  fifteenth 
year,  has  wasted  his  earliest  years? 

Rousseau  asks  this  question  as  if  he  were  sure  of  his  answer. 
What  I  have  already  said  of  Emile  at  twelve  is  still  truer  of  him  at 
fifteen.  We  freeze  at  the  character  of  the  cold  boy,  who  has  by  the 
skill  of  his  tutor  been  brought  to  such  an  independence  that  he  ask& 
neither  about  God  or  man,  feels  no  need  of  love,  has  no  feeling  for 


42  ROUSSEAU'S  EMILE. 

poetry.  A  superficial  understanding  of  the  material  world,  and  the 
bodily  activity  of  a  savage,  are  the  highest  of  his  attainments.  A 
real  ethical  idea  is  out  of  the  question,  where  love,  the  heart  of  all 
the  virtues,  is  wanting.  Only  the  earthly  being  is  considered  ;  death 
brings  this  pedagogical  masterpiece  to  an  end ;  and  Emile  endures 
this  with  the  resignation  of  a  wild  beast. 

FOURTH  BOOK.     EMILE  FROM  HIS  FIFTEENTH  YEAR  TO  HIS  MARRIAGE. 
44.     Puberty.     Selfishness.     Self-esteem.     Innocence. 

The  age  of  puberty  now  comes,  and  with  it  spring  up  passions  whose  source 
is  selfishness.  This  impels  every  one  to  care  for  his  own  profit.  What  is  useful 
to  us  we  seek  for  that  reason  ;  what  desires  to  serve  us,  we  love  ;  what  hurts  us 
we  flee  from  ;  and  what  seeks  to  harm  us,  we  hate.  A  child  is  benevolent  at 
first,  because  all  who  are  around  him  wait  on  him.  But,  as  the  circle  of  his  ac- 
quaintance enlarges,  the  feeling  of  his  relations  to  others  grows  up,  he  compares 
himself  with  them,  and  his  selfishness  changes  into  self-esteem,  which  lifts  him 
above  others,  and  requires  them  to  hold  him  higher  than  themselves.  Heat 
and  anger  spring  from  self-esteem.  It  is  true  that  children,  since  they  can 
never  live  alone,  can  live  together  only  with  difficulty.  From  selfishness,  changed 
into  self-esteem,  comes,  in  simple  souls,  vanity,  and  in  great  ones,  pride;  which 
spring  in  the  hearts  of  children  only  by  our  fault,  and  in  our  pupils  even  against 
our  will. 

The  age  of  puberty  is  unnaturally  hastened ;  it  should  be  delayed  as  long  as 
possible.  In  regard  to  the  relations  of  the  sexes,  lies  should  not  be  told  to  chil- 
dren, but  care  should  be  taken  not  to  awaken  their  curiosity  upon  such  subjects; 
silence  should  be  observed  in  regard  to  them ;  but  what  can  not  be  hidden  from 
them  should  be  told  them. 

A  child  who  is  not  born  with  a  bad  nature,  and  who  has  kept  his  innocence  to 
his  twentieth  year,  is  at  this  age  the  most  magnanimous,  best,  most  loving  and  lov- 
able of  men.  If  you  have  never  heard  of  this,  I  can  easily  believe  it ;  your  phi- 
losophers, bred  up  in  the  deepest  depravity  of  the  schools,  could  not  know  it. 

Emile  is  now  coining  into  the  years  when  increasing  freedom  de- 
velopes  his  sinful  tendencies  more  freely ;  and  the  fig  leaves  of  Rous- 
seau's sophistry  are  less  and  less  able  to  cover  them.  Still  he  ad- 
heres to  his  principle,  that  every  thing  wicked  comes,  not  from  the 
heart,  but  into  the  head  from  others. 

45.     Happiness.     Love.     Sympathy.     Gratitude. 

There  now  follow  directions  for  ethical  education  ;  for  example,  the 
pupil  is  to  be  taught  not  to  take  apparent  happiness  for  real  and  de- 
sirable happiness,  and  not  phrases  of  hypocritical  pretenses  of  love 
and  sympathy,  but  to  exercise  real  sympathy.  Ingratitude  is  not 
natural  to  men,  but  is  caused  by  such  benefactors  as  seek  their  own 
advantage. 

46.     Knowledge  of  Men. 

As  self-esteem  grows  in  Emile,  he  compares  himself  with  his  equals  and  en- 
deavors to  hold  the  highest  place  among  thorn.  Now  is  the  time  to  instruct  him 
in  the  social  relations,  and  in  the  natural  and  civic  inequality  of  men.  He  should 
know  men  in  and  under  the  masks  of  society,  should  mourn  over  them,  but  not 
learn  to  aid  them.  Emile  knows  that  men  are  by  nature  good,  but  understands 
that  they  have  become  bad  and  depraved  by  means  of  society  ;  in  their  prejudices 
he  sees  the  source  of  all  their  vices ;  and  feels  himself  impelled  to  value  each 
single  one  of  them,  but  to  despise  them  collectively. 


ROUSSEAU'S  EMILE.  40 

47.      The  Study  of  History. 

It  is  now  time  to  introduce  Emile  to  history.  Unfortunately,  historical  writers 
relate  only  bad  things,  and  the  good  remain  unknown ;  they  misrepresent  facts, 
•do  not  follow  the  connection  of  cause  and  effect,  and  give  their  own  judgments 
instead  of  leaving  this  to  the  reader.  Away  with  the  modern  historians !  Their 
works  have  no  character  ;  and  they  look  upon  all  the  men  of  the  present  day  as 
exactly  alike.  Especially  useless  are  the  systematic  historians  •  who  will  not  see 
things  as  they  are,  but  only  as  they  fit  into  their  system.  Others  exhibit  men 
only  as  they  appear  in  the  state;  and  not  at  all  as  they  appear  at  home.  Of  all 
the  ancient  historians,  Plutarch  is  far  the  best  for  youth,  in  particular  because  he 
does  not  despise  relating  the  apparently  trifling  traits  of  eminent  men. 

48.  Emile  upon  the  Theatre  of  the  World.  Presumption. 
Emile  now  for  the  first  time  appears  upon  the  theatre  of  the  world  5  or  rather 
he  stands  behind  the  scenes,  sees  the  players  dress  and  undress  themselves;  and 
by  what  coarse  means  the  spectators  are  deceived.  It  will  elevate  him  to  see 
how  the  human  race  makes  sport  of  itself.  Educated  in  entire  freedom,  he  will 
sorrow  over  the  misery  of  kings,  those  slaves  of  all  those  who  obey  them  ;  false 
wise  men,  in  the  chains  of  their  vain  honors;  rich  fools,  the  martyrs  to  their  own 
luxury.  He  will  be  in  danger  of  thinking  himself  wise,  and  all  others  fools  ;  and 
only  mortifying  experience  can  protect  him  from  such  vanity. 

Pedagogy  disappears  more  and  more.  The  natural  man,  Emile, 
turns  into  the  revolutionary  misanthrope  ;  he  is  Rousseau  himself,  un- 
der the  name  of  Emile. 

49.  Emile  a  Natural  Man. 

I  shall  be  thought  a  visionary,  and  Emile  a  phantasy,  because  he  is  so  different 
from  ordinary  youths.  It  is  overlooked  that  he  is  a  natural  man,  but  that  other 
youths  are  brought  up  according  to  the  notions  of  men. 

Others,  at  Emile's  age,  are  already  philosophers  and  theologians ;  while  he 
does  not  know  yet  what  philosophy  is,  and  even  has  not  yet  heard  God  spoken  of. 

I  am  no  visionary ;  my  pedagogy  is  based  upon  experience ;  since  without 
regard  to  rank,  nation,  &c.,  I  have  found  what  is  proper  to  all  men,  and  have 
educated  Emile  according  to  that;  not  as  a  savage  for  the  woods,  but  as  a  man 
who  will  have  to  maintain  himself  independent  in  the  whirlpool  of  society. 

50.  Religious  Instruction. 

We  are  brought  up  in  close  connection  with  the  natural  world;  and  for  the 
abstract,  the  purely  intellectual,  we  have  scarcely  any  comprehension.  God  with- 
draws our  senses  from  themselves;  the  word  mind  has  a  meaning  only  for  the 
philosophers.  Monotheism  has  come,  by  a  process  of  generalization,  from  ma- 
terial polytheism. 

In  his  fifteenth  year,  Emile  does  not  yet  know  that  he  has  a  soul ;  and  perhaps 
he  will  find  it  out  too  early  in  his  eighteenth. 

After  this  follows  an  argument  against  catechetical  instruction. 
The  faith  of  children  and  of  many  grown  persons  is  a  matter  of 
geography  ;  it  depends  merely  upon  whether  they  were  born  in  Rome 
or  in  Mecca.  Does  salvation  depend  upon  that  ? 

A  child,  it  is  said,  must  be  brought  up  in  the  religion  of  his  father ;  and  he 
must  be  taught  that  this  alone  is  true ;  and  that  others  are  absurd.  But  if  the 
power  of  this  instruction  extends  only  so  far  as  the  country  in  which  it  is  given, 
and  depends  only  upon  authority,  for  which  Emile  has  been  taught  to  have  no 
regard,  what  then?  In  what  religion  shall  we  educate  him?  To  this  there  is 
only  the  simple  answer,  in  none;  we  will  only  put  him  in  a  condition  to  choose 
for  himself,  that  to  which  the  best  use  of  his  own  reason  may  bring  him. 


44  ROUSSEAU'S  EMILE. 

In  this  connection,  we  will  introduce  an  extract  from  one  of  the 
numerous  episodes  with  which  the  book  abounds,  that  of  the  Profes- 
sion of  Faith  of  a  Savoyard  Curate,  in  which  a  comparison  is  made 
between  Christ  and  Socrates : — 

I  confess  to  you  that  the  majesty  of  the  whole  Scriptures  puts  me  in  astonish- 
ment. The  sanctity  of  Gospel  speaks  to  my  heart.  By  its  side,  how  little  do 
the  books  of  the  philosophers  appear,  with  all  tlu-ir  magnificence!  And  is  it 
possible  that  a  book  at  once  so  lofty  ami  simple-  ean  be  the  work  of  man?  Is  it 
possible  that  he,  whose  history  is  contained  in  it.  was  only  a  man  ?  Are  his  words 
those  of  an  enthusiast,  or  of  the  ambitious  founder  of  a  sect?  What  mildness, 
what  purity  in  his  morals!  What  elevation  in  his  maxims!  What  profound 
wisdom  in  his  language  !  What  presence  of  mind,  acuteness.  and  pertinence  in  his 
answers!  What  command  of  his  passions!  Where  shall  we  find  a  man,  a  wise 
man  even,  who  has  known  how  to  act,  to  suffer,  ami  to  die,  without  weaki 
ostentation.'  When  Plato  paints  his  ideal  of  an  upright  man,  who  is  eovered  with 
all  th«  shame  of  guilt,  and  who  deserves  praise  for  every  virtue,  he  draws  Jesus. 
Christ,  line  for  line  :  the  similarity  is  so  striking  that  all  the  fathers  of  the  church 
have  observed  it  What  prejudice,  what  blindness  is  it  to  compare  the  son  of 
Sophroniscus  with  the  son  off  Mary!  How  wide  a  difference  is  there  between 
them!  Socrates,  dying  without  pain,  without  disgrace,  bore  his  part,  without 
difficulty,  to  his  death  ;  and  if  this  easy  death  had  not  given  honor  to  his  life,  we 
might  doubt  whether,  with  all  his  intellect,  he  was  any  thing  more  than  a  sophist. 
It  is  said  that  hi*  founded  morals.  Others  had  practiced  morals,  and  his  teachings, 
were  based  upon  their  examples.  Aristides  was  just  before  Socrates  defined 
:  Leonidas  died  for  his  country,  before  Socrates  defined  patriotism  to  be  a 
duty.  IJefoiv  he  defined  virtu-,  (ir-cce  had  had  a  multitude  of  virtuous  men. 
But  where  had  Jesus  found,  among  his  own  people,  that  lofty  and  pure  morality 
which  he  alone  practiced  and  taught  ?  From  the  bosom  of  the  most  raging  fanati- 
cism was  this  highest  of  all  wisdom  developed ;  and  the  simplicity  of  the  most 
heroic  virtue  reflected  honor  upon  the  m..>t  despised  of  all  nations.  The  death  of 
Socrates,  who  died  peacefully  philosophizing  among  his  friends,  is  the  easiest 
which  could  be  desired;  but  that  of  Christ,  in  tortures,  reviled,  despised,  accursed 
by  a  whole  people,  is  the  most  terrible  and  fearful.  Socrates,  as  he  look  the  rup 
of  poison,  blessed  the  weeping  man  who  handed  it  to  him  ;  Jesus,  amidst  t In- 
most horrible  torture's,  prayed  for  his  enraged  and  hostile  executioners.  If  the 
life  and  death  of  Socrates  were  those  of  a  wise  man,  the  life  ancT  death  of  Christ 
were  those  of  a  God.  Shall  we  say  that  the  history  of  evangelists  is  an  arbitrary 
invention  ?  No,  it  is  not  so ;  the  actions  of  Socrates,  of  which  no  one  doubts, 
are  less  authentic  than  those  of  Christ. 

If  this  extract  were  to  be  taken,  apart  from  its  connection,  it  could 
only  be  believed  that  one  who  loved  and  reverenced  Christ  from  his 
heart,  could  lm\v  written  it.  But  before  and  after  this  passage  stands 
the  most  wanton  mockery  of  Christianity, — the  very  passages  which 
subjected  him  and  his  book  to  the  condemnation  of  the  Parliament 
of  Paris,  which,  on  the  9th  of  June,  1762,  sentenced  the  book  to  be 
torn  to  pieces  and  burned,  the  author  to  be  imprisoned,  and  his 
property  to  be  confiscated.  The  same  fate  awaited  it  in  Geneva. 

In  his  fifth  book,  he  describes  Sophie,  as  the  model  of  a  maiden. 
The  tutor  contrives  the  marriage  of  Emile  and  Sophie.  When  Einile 
becomes  a  father,  he  dismisses  the  tutor  with  the  words,  "  God  forbid 
that  I  should  permit  you  to  educate  my  son  after  you  have  educated 
his  father ;  that  a  duty  so  holy  and  sweet  should  be  performed  'bv 
any  other  than  myself." 


KOUrWBAlTS  EMII.E  45 

Locke  says,  in  his  pedagogical  work, "  When  my  pupil  is  at  an  age 
to  marry,  it  is  time  to  leave  him  to  himself."  "As  for  me,"  says 
Rousseau,  "I  should  beware  how  I  imitated  Locke  in  this."  So 
Einile  is  unnaturally  betutored  until  he  becomes  a  father.  The  mar- 
riage thus  planned  and  brought  about  by  the  tutor  has  a  miserable 
end.  Sophie  is  untrue  to  Emile,  who  gives  himself  up  to  despair,  and 
at  last  falls  into  slavery  in  Algiers.* 

According  to  Locke's  recommendation  I  break  off  here,  and  the 
more  willingly  as  the  digressions  become  more  and  more  numerous 
in  the  fourth  book  even,  and  the  pedagogical  design  is  more  and 
more  lost  sight  of.f 

The  sketch  which  I  have  given  of  Emile  will  be  made  clearer  by 
regarding  it  as  a  book  at  once  instructive  and  corrupting.  Sur- 
rounded by  civilization,  overwhelmed  with  corruption,  the  misanthrope 
fell  upon  many  instructive  notions,  by  merely  reversing  what  was 
generally  received.  But  hate  will  not  bring  truth  into  existence,  even 
from  the  basis  of  the  deepest  degradation  of  a  people.  It  is  only  love 
which  can  do  this ;  it  is  love  alone  which  can  cure  it.  Rousseau  is 
corrupting,  because  he  mingles  truth  and  falsehood,  good  and  evil,  in 
the  most  cunning  manner;  so  that  good  and  bad  are  to  be  dis- 
tinguished only  by  an  exceedingly  watchful  and  critical  reader.  I 
close  with  repeating  my  wish,  that  the  preceding  sketch,  and  the 
subjoined  remarks,  may  assist  the  reader  in  such  a  critical  separation. 
ROUSSEAU  AND  FEBTALOZZI. 

A  comparison  between  the  two  men  repeatedly  suggests  itself. 
How  noble,  pure,  and  true  is  PestalozzPs  letterj  to  Anna  Schulthess, 
and  how  completely  is  it  the  opposite  of  Rousseau's  understanding 
with  Therese  Levasseur ! 

In  1819,  I  published  a  dialogue  entitled  "The  Progressives,"  (Die 
>r.)  This  also  ended  with  a  comparison  of  the  French  Swiss 
and  the  German  Swiss. 

One  of  the  speakers  in  this  says :  "  Do  not  take  me  for  so  bigoted 
an  admirer  and  repeater  of  Rousseau,  as  to  have  hoped  for  every 
tiling  good  from  him.  Nothing  is  further  from  the  truth.  I  can  not, 
however,  but  wonder  at  him,  when  I  compare  him  with  his  French 
and  European  cotemporaries,  to  observe  how  in  him  the  force  of  na- 
ture, which  had  been  choked  by  an  elaborately  unnatural  system, 
burst  forth,  ami  awakened  the  degraded  conscience  of  the  day.  In 

*In  a  fragment  entitled  '-Emile  et  Sophie  on  lea  solitaires,"  this  is  related  by  Rousseau, 
who  intends  thus  to  show  how  a  man  educated  upon  his  principles  will  remain  unconquered 
in  rhe  most  miserable  condition. 

1  There  are,  however,  some  valuable  remarks  in  this  book ;  as  upon  the  chastity  of  the 
Bible  language,  and  unchastity  of  French  ;  upon  the  extravagant  life  of  power,  vanity,  Ac. 

I  Life  of  Pestalozzi.    Am.  Jour,  of  Ed.    Vol.  III.,  p  407. 


46  ROUSSEAU'S  EMILE. 

him,  that  age  confessed  itself;  as  a  worn  out  and  repentant  harlot 
washes  off  her  paint,  lays  aside  her  false  hair,  and  shudderingly  looks 
upon  her  naked  hideousness  in  the  glass.  In  full  consciousness  of 
his  errors  and  sins,  he  stands  burdened  with  the  curse  of  the  ager 
and  powerless  to  renew  his  life  in  freshness  and  holiness." 

From  the  blinding  fiery  column  of  the  French  volcano,  which 
served  the  German  mariners  as  a  beacon,  but  devastated  its  own 
country,  we  gladly  turn  to  the  mild  star  which  rose  over  Germany, 
of  Pestalozzi.  Despairing  misanthropy  inspired  Rousseau,  and,  in 
truth,  such  an  age,  and  in  such  circumstances,  he  was  little  blamable 
for  it.  His  leading  idea  was,  that  if  he  rejected  every  thing  received 
by  his  age,  and  adopted  its  opposite,  he  would  reach  the  truth.  And 
so  evil  were  the  times,  that,  by  following  this  malevolent  impulse,  he 
produced  many  excellent  ideas. 

Pestalozzi,  however,  was  inspired  by  love  of  humanity,  and  by  a 
desire  to  benefit  the  poor ;  not  by  a  war  with  the  rich,  but  by  educa- 
ting them.  And,  although  he  unostentatiously  turned  away  from  the 
overrefinement  of  his  age,  and,  in  evangelical  imitation  of  Christ, 
went  to  the  neglected  poor,  yet  God  blessed  the  purity  of  his  aspira- 
tions, and  granted  him  more  than  he  asked ;  the  joyful  expectation 
of  a  great  future,  and  to  plant,  by  his  writings  and  his  wisdom,  the 
of  never-ending  development. 


§ 

p 

w 


mm 


THE  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

BY  GAEL  VON   RAUMER,* 


JOHN  HENRF  PESTALOZZI  was  born  at  Zurich  on  the  12th  of  Jan- 
uary, 1746.  His  father  was  a  medical  practitioner;  his  mother, 
whose  maiden  name  was  Hotze,  was  a  native  of  Wadenschwyl  on 
the  Lake  of  Zurich,  and  first  cousin  to  the  Austrian  general  Hotze, 
who  fell  at  Schannis  in  1799. 

The  father  died  prematurely,  when  Pestalozzi  was  only  six  years 
old  ;  from  this  time  forward,  therefore,  "  every  thing  was  wanting,  in 
the  influences  around  him,  which  a  manly  education  of  the  facul- 
ties so  urgently  requires  at  that  age."  "  I  was  brought  up,"  he  re- 
lates, "  by  the  hand  of  the  best  of  mothers  like  a  spoilt  darling,  such 
that  you  will  not  easily  find  a  greater.  From  one  year  to  another  I 
never  left  the  domestic  hearth  ;  in  short,  all  the  essential  means  and 
inducements  to  the  development  of  manly  vigor,  manly  experience, 
manly  ways  of  thinking,  and  manly  exercises,  were  just  as  much 
wanting  to  me,  as,  from  the  peculiarity  and  weakness  of  my  temper- 
ament, I  especially  needed  them." 

This  peculiarity,  according  to  Pestalozzi's  own  statement,  was,  that 
with  the  most  sensitive  feelings  and  the  liveliest  imagination,  he  was 
deficient  in  the  power  of  sustained  attention,  in  reflection,  circum- 
spection, and  foresight. 

His  mother  devoted  herself  wholly  to  the  education  of  her  three 
children,  in  which  she  was  assisted  by  a  faithful  servant  girl  from  the 
country,  of  the  name  of  Babeli.  Pestalozzi's  father,  on  his  death- 
bed, sent  for  this  girl.  "Babeli,"  said  he,  "for  the  sake  of  God  and 
inc.Mw,  do  not  leave  my  wife;  when  I  am  dead,  she  will  be  forlorn, 
and  my  children  will  fall  into  strange  and  cruel  hands."  "  I  will  not 
leave  your  wife  when  you  die,"  replied  Babeli  ;  "I  will  remain  with 
her  till  death,  if  she  has  need  of  me."  Her  words  pacified  the  dying 
father;  she  kept  her  promise,  and  remained  till  her  death  with  the 

*  Iu  this  article  we  follow  literally,  but  with  occasional  abridgments,  the  translation  of 
Prof.  J.  Tilleard.  originally  published  in  the  Educational  Expositor  for  18"vM.  and  afterward 
co.iected  in  a  volume  of  80  pages,  by  Longman,  Brown,  Green  and  Longmans;  London . 


50  11FE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZ1. 

mother.  "  Her  great  fidelity,"  Festalozzi  says,  "  was  the  result  of 
her  strong,  simple,  and  pious  faith."  As  the  mother  was  in  very 
straitened  circumstances,  Babeli  economized  wherever  she  could ;  she 
even  restrained  the  children  when  they  wanted  to  go  into  the  street, 
or  to  any  place  where  they  had  no  business  to  go,  with  the  words,, 
"  why  will  you  needlessly  wear  out  your  shoes  and  clothes  ?  See 
how  much  your  mother  denies  herself,  in  order  to  be  able  to  give 
you  an  education ;  how  for  weeks  and  months  together  she  never 
goes  out  any  where,  but  saves  every  farthing  for  your  schooling.'^ 
Nevertheless,  the  mother  was  liberal  in  those  expenses  which  respect 
ability  requires,  nor  did  she  let  the  children  be  without  handsome 
Sunday  clothes.  These,  however,  they  were  allowed  to  wear  but 
seldom,  and  they  had  to  take  them  off  again  as  soon  as  they  came 
home. 

"I  saw  the  world,"  says  Pestalozzi,  "only  within  the  narrow  limits 
of  my  mother's  parlor,  and  within  the  equally  narrow  limits  of  my 
school-room  ;  to  real  human  life  I  was  almost  as  great  a  stranger,  as 
if  I  did  not  live  in  the  world  in  which  I  dwelt." 

Pestalozzi's  grandfather  on  the  mother's  side  was  minister  at  Hongg,, 
a  village  three  miles  from  Zurich.  With  him  Pestalozzi  spent  several 
months  every  year,  from  the  time  when  he  was  nine  years  old.  The 
old  man  conscientiously  cared  for  the  souls  of  his  flock,  and  thereby 
exercised  a  great  influence  upon  the  village  school;  his  piety  made 
a  deep  and  lasting  impression  on  his  grandson. 

Of  his  early  school  days,  Pestalozzi  relates  the  following : — 

"In  all  boys'  games,  I  was  the  most  clumsy  and  helpless  among 
all  my  school  fellows,  and  nevertheless,  in  a  certain  way,  I  always 
wanted  to  excel  the  others.  This  caused  some  of  them  very  fre- 
quently to  pass  their  jokes  upon  me.  One  of  them  gave  me  the 
nickname  l  Harry  Whimsical  of  Foolstown.'  Most  of  them,  however, 
liked  my  good  natured  and  obliging  disposition;  though  they  knew 
my  general  clumsiness  and  awkwardness,  as  well  as  my  carelessness 
and  thoughtlessness  in  everything  that  did  not  particularly  interest 
me. 

"Accordingly,  although  one  of  the  best  pupils,  I  nevertheless- 
'  committed,  with  incomprehensible  thoughtlessness,  faults  of  which 
not  even  the  worst  of  them  was  ever  guilty.  While  I  generally 
seized  with  quickness  and  accuracy  upon  the  essential  matter  of  the 
subjects  of  instruction,  I  was  generally  very  indifferent  and  thought- 
less as  to  the  forms  in  which  it  was  given.  At  the  same  time  that 
I  was  far  behind  my  fellow  scholars  in  some  parts  of  a  subject,  in 
other  parts  of  the  same  subject  I  often  surpassed  them  in  an  unusual. 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  £j 

degree.  This  is  so  true,  that  once,  when  one  of  my  professors,  who 
had  a  very  good  knowledge  of  Greek,  but  not  the  least  eloquence  of 
tyle,  translated  and  published  some  orations  of  Demosthenes,  I  had 
the  boldness,  with  the  limited  school  rudiments  which  I  then  possessed, 
to  translate  one  of  these  orations  myself,  and  to  give  it  in,  at  the 
examination,  as  a  specimen  of  my  progress  in  this  branch  of  study. 
A  portion  of  this  translation  was  printed  in  the  Linden  Journal,  in 
connection  with  an  article  entitled  'Agis.'  Just  in  the  same  manner 
as  I  made  incomparably  more  progress  in  certain  parts  of  my  subjects 
of  instruction  than  in  others,  so  generally  it  was  of  far  more  import- 
ance to  me  to  be  sensibly  affected  by,  (I  dare  not  say  to  understand 
thoroughly,)  the  branches  of  knowledge  which  I  was  to  learn,  than 
to  exercise  myself  in  the  means  of  practicing  them.  At  the  same 
time,  the  wish  to  be  acquainted  with  some  branches  of  knowledge 
that  took  hold  on  my  heart  and  my  imagination,  even  though  I  neg- 
lected the  means  of  acquiring  them,  was  nevertheless  enthusiastically- 
alive  within  me ;  and  unfortunately,  the  tone  of  public  instruction  in\ 
my  native  town  at  this  period  was  in  a  high  degree  calculated  to  fos- 
ter this  visionary  fancy  of  taking  an  active  interest  in,  and  believing 
one's  self  capable  of,  the  practice  of  things  in  which  one  had  by  no 
means  had  sufficient  exercise,  and  this  fancy  was  very  prevalent 
among  the  youth  of  my  native  town  generally."  What  a  foreshad- 
owing is  Pestalozzi's  childhood  of  the  whole  of  his  subsequent  career  i 
Among  Pestalozzi's  teachers,  there  were  three  who  exercised  an  in- 
fluence upon  him  in  his  youth, — Bodmer,  Breitinger,  and  Stein  brii- 
chel.  Bodmer  was  Professor  of  History  from  1725  to  1775  ;  he  is 
known  by  his  literary  controversies  with  Gottsched  and  Lessing,  his 
edition  of  the  Minniesingers,  and  his  epic  poem  upon  the  Deluge. 
Breitinger,  Professor  of  Greek  and  Hebrew  from  1731  to  1776,  edi- 
ted the  Septuagint.  Steinbruchel  is  described  as  a  witty  and  learned 
man,  but  very  much  inclined  to  infidel  "illumination."  "Indepen- 
dence, freedom,  beneficence,  self-sacrifice,  and  patriotism,  were  the 
watchwords  of  our  public  education,"  says  Pestalozzi.  "But  the 
means  of  attaining  all  this  which  was  particularly  commended  to  us 
— mental  distinction — was  left  without  solid  and  sufficient  training 
of  the  practical  ability  which  is  its  essential  condition.  We  were 
taught,  in  a  visionary  manner,  to  seek  for  independence  in  an  abstract 
acquaintance  with  truth,  without  being  made  to  feel  strongly  what 
was  essentially  necessary  to  the  security  both  of  our  inward  and  of 
our  outward  domestic  and  civil  independence.  The  tone  of  the  in- 
struction which  we  received,  led  us,  with  much  vivacity  and  many 
attractive  representations,  to  be  so  short-sighted  and  inconsiderate  as, 


52  I-'FE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

to  set  little  value  upon,  and  almost  to  despise,  the  external  means  of 
wealth,  honor,  and  consideration.  This  was  carried  to  such  a  length, 
that  we  imagined,  while  we  were  yet  in  the  condition  of  boys,  that, 
by  a  superficial  school  acquaintance  with  the  great  civil  life  of  Greece 
and  Rome,  we  could  eminently  prepare  ourselves  for  the  little  civil 
life  in  one  of  the  Swiss  cantons." 

Pestalozzi  further  relates,  that  the  appearance  of  the  writings  of 
Rousseau  was  a  great  means  of  keeping  alive  the  errors  into  which 
the  noble  flight  of  true  and  patriotic  sentiment  had  led  the  more  dis- 
tinguished of  the  young  Swiss.  ''They  had  run,"  he  says,  "into  one- 
sided, rash,  and  confused  notions,  into  which  Voltaire's  seductive 
infidelity,  being  opposed  to  the  pure  holiness  of  religion,  and  to  its 
simplicity  and  innocence,  had  helped  to  lead  them.  Out  of  all  this," 
he  tells  us,  "  a  new  tendency  was  produced,  which  was  totally  incon- 
sistent with  the  real  welfare  of  our  native  town,  constituted  as  it  was 
according  to  the  old-fashioned  style  of  the  imperial  free  cities,  which 
was  neither  calculated  to  preserve  what  was  good  in  the  old  institu- 
tions, nor  to  introduce  any  that  were  substantially  better." 

At  this  time,  Pestalozzi's  contemporary,  Lavater,  founded  a  league 
which  Pestalozzi  joined,  being  then  a  lad  of  fifteen.  The  young  men 
who  formed  this  league,  with  Lavater  at  their  head,  brought  a  public 
charge  of  injustice  against  Grebel,  the  governor  of  the  canton,  im- 
peached the  character  of  Brunner,  the  mayor  of  Zurich,  and  declared 
war  against  unworthy  ministers  of  religion. 

"  The  moment  Rousseau's  Emile  appeared,"  says  Pestalozzi,  "  my 
visionary  and  highly  speculative  mind  was  enthusiastically  seized  by 
this  visionary  and  highly  speculative  book.  I  compared  the  educa- 
tion which  I  enjoyed  in  the  corner  of  my  mother's  parlor,  and  also  in 
the  school  which  I  frequented,  with  what  Rousseau  demanded  for  the 
education  of  his  Emilus.  The  home  as  well  as  the  public  education 
of  the  whole  world,  and  of  all  ranks  of  society,  appeared  to  me  alto- 
gether as  a  crippled  thing,  which  was  to  find  a  universal  remedy  for 
its  present  pitiful  condition  in  Rousseau's  lofty  ideas. 

"  The  ideal  system  of  liberty,  also,  to  which  Rousseau  imparted 
fresh  animation,  increased  in  me  the  visionary  desire  for  a  more  ex- 
tended sphere  of  activity,  in  which  I  might  promote  the  welfare  and 
happiness  of  the  people.  Juvenile  ideas  as  to  what  it  was  necessary 
and  possible  to  do  in  this  respect  in  my  native  town,  induced  me  to 
abandon  the  clerical  profession,  to  which  I  had  formerly  leaned,  and 
for  which  I  had  been  destined,  and  caused  the  thought  to  spring  up 
within  me,  that  it  might  be  possible,  by  the  study  of  the  law,  to  find 
a  career  that  would  be  likely  to  procure  for  me,  sooner  or  later,  the 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZ!  53 

opportunity  and  means  of  exercising  an  active  influence  on  the  civil 
condition  of  my  native  town,  and  even  of  my  native  land." 

There  was  at  this  time  a  great  controversy  in  the  canton  of  Zurich, 
particularly  between  the  town  and  the  country.  Pestalozzi  had  already 
as  a  boy,  when  living  with  his  grandfather,  the  village  pastor,  won 
the  affection  of  the  people  of  the  country,  and  might  early  have 
heard  the  complaint  of  the  country  clergy,  omne  malum  ex  urbe, — 
•'all  harm  comes  from  the  town."  A  fierce  hatred  toward  the  aris- 
tocracy who  oppressed  the  country  people  was  kindled  in  his  young 
heart,  and  even  in  old  age  it  was  not  altogether  extinguished.  This 
warmth  of  anger  coexisted  in  him  with  great  warmth  of  love  for  the 
people  ;  Gothe's  saying — • 

"  Youth's  wings  should  trim  themselves  for  flight 

Ere  youthful  strength  be  gone, 
Thro'  hate  of  wrong  and  love  of  right 
To  bear  him  bravely  on — " 

characterizes  not  only  the  young  Pestalozzi,  but  also  the  old  man ;  it 
characterizes  most  of  his  writings. 

He  was  seconded  at  this  time  by  a  friend  of  the  name  of  Blunt- 
schli,  but  a  pulmonary  complaint  laid  this  young  man  upon  his  death- 
bed. He  sent  for  Pestalozzi,  and  said  to  him,  "  I  die,  and  when  you 
are  left  to  yourself,  you  must  not  plunge  into  any  Career  which  from 
your  good  natured  and  confiding  disposition,  might  become  danger- 
ous to  you.  Seek  for  a  quiet,  tranquil  career ;  and  unless  you  have 
at  your  side  a  man  who  will  faithfully  assist  you  with  a  calm,  dispas- 
sionate knowledge  of  men  and  things,  by  no  means  embark  in  any 
extensive  undertaking  whose  failure  would  in  any  way  be  perilous  to 
you."  An  opinion  of  Pestalozzi's  character  which  was  strikingly 
confirmed  by  almost  every  subsequent  event  of  his  life. 

Soon  after  his  friend's  death,  Pestalozzi  himself  became  danger- 
ously ill,  probably  in  consequence  of  his  overstrained  exertion  in  the 
pursuit  of  his  legal  and  historical  studies.  His  physicians  advised  him 
to  give  up  scientific  pursuits  for  a  time,  and  to  recreate  himself  in  the 
country.  This  advice,  \vliirh  was  strengthened  by  Rousseau's  anti- 
scientific  diatribes,  Pestalozzi  followed  too  faithfully.  He  renounced 
the  study  of  books,  burnt  his  manuscripts,  went  to  his  maternal  rela- 
tion, Dr.  Ilotze  at  Richterswyl,  and  from  thence  to  Kirchberg,  in  the 
canton  of  Bern,  to  TschifTeli,  a  farmer  of  considerable  reputation. 
From  him  Pestalozzi  sought  advice  as  to  how  he  might  best  realize 
his  plans  for  the  country  people.  "I  had  come  to  him,"  says  Pestal- 
ozzi, "  a  political  visionary,  though  with  many  profound  and  correct 
attainments,  views,  and  prospects  in  political  matters ;  and  I  went 


,54  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

away  from  him  just  as  great  an  agricultural  visionary,  though  with 
many  enlarged  and  correct  ideas  and  intentions  in  regard  to  agricul- 
ture. My  stay  with  him  only  had  this  effect — that  the  gigantic 
views  in  relation  to  my  exertions  were  awakened  within  me  afresh  by 
his  agricultural  plans,  which,  though  difficult  of  execution,  and  in 
part  impracticable,  were  bold  and  extensive ;  and  that,  at  the  same 
time,  they  caused  me,  in  my  thoughtlessness  as  to  the  means  of  car- 
rying them  out,  to  fall  into  a  callousness,  the  consequences  of  which 
•contributed  in  a  decisive  manner  to  the  pecuniary  embarrassment  into 
which  I  was  plunged  in  the  very  first  years  of  my  rural  life." 

Tschiffeli's  plantations  of  madder  were  exciting  great  attention  at 
that  time,  and  induced  Pestalozzi  to  make  a  similar  experiment.  He 
iearnt  that  near  the  village  of  Birr  there  was  a  large  tract  of  barren 
2halky  heath-land  to  be  sold,  which  was  only  used  for  a  sheep-walk. 
3e  joined  a  rich  mercantile  firm  in  Zurich,  and  bought  about  100 
acres  of  this  land,  at  the  nominal  price  of  ten  florins.  A  builder 
erected  for  him,  on  the  land  he  had  purchased,  a  dwelling  house  in 
the  Italian  style;  Pestalozzi  himself  calls  this  an  injudicious  and  im 
prudent  step.  To  the  whole  estate  he  gave  the  name  of  Neuhof. 

Among  the  friends  of  Pestalozzi's  youth,  was  Schulthess,  (the  son 
of  a  wealthy  merchant  in  Zurich,)  for  whose  beautiful  sister,  Anna 
Schulthess,  Pestalozzi  entertained  an  affection.  A  letter  which  he 
wrote  to  the  beautiful  maiden,  gives  us  a  profound  insight  into  the 
workings  of  his  heart,  and  even  into  his  future  life.  In  this  letter  he 
lays  before  her  his  hopes  and  resolutions,  and  also,  with  the  utmost 
candor  and  with  great  self-knowledge,  his  faults.  He  thus  writes  : — 

"  MY    DEAR,  MY    ONLY    FRIEND. 

44  Our  whole  future  life,  our  whole  happiness,  our  duties  toward  our 
country  and  our  posterity,  and  the  security  of  virtue,  call  upon  us  to 
follow  the  only  correct  guide  in  our  actions — Truth.  I  will,  with  all 
candor,  made  known  to  you  the  serious  reflection  I  have  had  in  these 
solemn  days  upon  the  relation  subsisting  between  us ;  I  am  happy 
that  I  know  before-hand,  that  my  friend  will  find  more  true  love  in 
the  calm  truth  of  this  contemplation,  which  so  intimately  concerns 
our  happiness,  than  in  the  ardor  of  pleasant,  but  often  not  too  wise, 
outpourings  of  a  feeling  heart,  which  I  now  with  difficulty  restrain. 
"  Dear  friend,  first  cf  all  I  must  tell  you  that  in  future  I  shall  but 
seldom  dare  to  approach  you.  I  have  already  come  too  frequently 
and  too  imprudently  to  your  brother's  house ;  I  see  that  it  becomes 
ray  duty  to  limit  my  visits  to  you ;  I  have  not  the  slightest  ability  to 
conceal  my  feelings.  My  sole  art  in  this  respect  consists  in  fleeing 
from  those  who  observe  them  ;  I  should  not  be  able  to  be  in  company 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  55 

with  you  for  even  half  an  evening,  without  its  being  possible  for  a 
moderately  acute  observer  to  perceive  that  I  was  in  a  disturbed  state 
of  mind.  We  know  each  other  sufficiently,  dear,  to  be  able  to  rely 
upon  mutual  straightforward  honesty  and  sincerity.  I  propose  to  you 
a  correspondence  in  which  we  shall  make  our  undisguised  thoughts 
known  to  each  other  with  all  the  freedom  of  oral  conversation.  Yes, 
I  will  open  myself  fully  and  freely  to  you ;  I  will  even  now  with  the 
greatest  candor,  let  you  look  as  deep  into  my  heart  as  I  am  myself 
able  to  penetrate ;  I  will  show  you  my  views  in  the  light  of  my  pres- 
ent and  future  condition,  as  clearly  as  I  see  them  myself. 

"  Dearest  Schulthess,  those  of  my  faults  which  appear  to  me  the 
most  important  in  relation  to  the  situation  in  which  I  may  be  placed 
in  after-life,  are  improvidence,  incautiousness,  and  a  want  of  presence 
of  mind  to  meet  unexpected  changes  in  my  future  prospects,  when 
ever  they  may  occur.  I  know  not  how  far  they  may  be  diminished 
by  my  efforts  to  counteract  them,  by  calm  judgment  and  experience 
At  present,  I  have  them  still  in  such  a  degree,  that  I  dare  not  concea- 
them  from  the  maiden  whom  I  love ;  they  are  faults,  my  dear,  which 
deserve  your  fullest  consideration.  I  have  other  faults,  arising  from 
my  irritability  and  sensitiveness,  which  oftentimes  will  not  submit  to 
my  judgment.  I  very  frequently  allow  myself  to  run  into  excesses 
in  praising  and  blaming,  in  my  likings  and  dislikings ;  I  cleave  so 
strongly  to  many  things  which  I  possess,  that  the  force  with  which  I 
feel  myself  bound  to  them  often  exceeds  the  limits  which  reason 
assigns  ;  whenever  my  country  or  my  friend  is  unhappy,  I  am  myself 
unhappy.  Direct  your  whole  attention  to  this  weakness ;  there  will 
be  times  when  the  cheerfulness  and  tranquillity  of  my  soul  will  suffer 
under  it.  If  even  it  does  not  hinder  me  in  the  discharge  of  my 
duties,  yet  I  shall  scarcely  ever  be  great  enough  to  fulfill  them,  in 
such  adverse  circumstances,  with  the  cheerfulness  and  tranquillity  of  a 
wise  man,  who  is  ever  true  to  himself.  Of  my  great,  and  indeed 
very  reprehensible  negligence  in  all  matters  of  etiquette,  and  gene- 
rally in  all  matters  which  are  not  in  themselves  of  importance,  I  need 
not  speak  ;  any  one  may  see  them  at  first  sight  of  me.  I  also  owe 
you  the  open  confession,  my  dear,  that  I  shall  always  consider 
my  duties  toward  my  beloved  partner  subordinate  to  my  duties 
toward  my  country ;  and  that,  although  I  shall  be  the  tenderest 
husband,  nevertheless  I  hold  it  to  be  my  duty  to  be  inexorable  to 
the  tears  of  my  wife,  if  she  should  ever  attempt  to  restrain  me  by 
them  from  the  direct  performance  of  my  duties  as  a  citizen,  whatever 
this  might  lead  to.  My  wife  shall  be  the  confident  of  my  heart,  the 
partner  of  all  my  most  secret  counsels.  A  great  and  honest  simplicity 


56  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

shall  reign  in  my  house.  And  one  thing  more.  My  life  will  not 
pass  without  important  and  very  critical  undertakings.  I  shall  not 
forget  ihe  precepts  of  Menalk,  and  my  first  resolutions  to  devote  my- 
self wholly  to  my  country ;  I  shall  never  from  fear  of  man,  refrain 
from  speaking,  when  I  see  that  the  good  of  my  country  calls  upon 
me  to  speak :  my  whole  heart  is  my  country's ;  I  will  risk  all  to  alle- 
viate the  need  and  misery  of  my  fellow  countrymen.  What  conse- 
quences may  the  undertakings  to  which  I  feel  myself  urged  on,  draw 
after  them ;  how  unequal  to  them  am  I ;  and  how  imperative  is  my 
duty  to  show  you  the  possibility  of  the  great  dangers  which  they 
may  bring  upon  me  ! 

"My  dear,  my  beloved  friend,  I  have  now  spoken  candidly  of  my 
character  and  my  aspirations.  Reflect  upon  every  thing.  If  the 
traits  which  it  was  my  duty  to  mention,  diminish  your  respect  for  me, 
you  will  still  esteem  my  sincerity,  and  you  will  not  think  less  highly 
of  me,  that  I  did  not  take  advantage  of  your  want  of  acquaintance 
with  my  character,  for  the  attainment  of  my  inmost  wishes.  Decide 
now  whether  you  can  give  your  heart  to  a  man  with  these  faults  and 
in  such  a  condition,  and  be  happy. 

"My  dear  friend,  I  love  you  so  truly  from  my  heart,  and  with  such 
fervor,  that  this  step  has  cost  me  much  ;  I  fear  to  lose  you,  dear,  when 
you  see  me  as  I  am  ;  I  had  often  determined  to  be  silent ;  at  last  I 
have  conquered  myself.  My  conscience  called  loudly  to  me,  that  I 
should  be  a  seducer  and  not  a  lover,  if  I  were  to  hide  from  my  be- 
loved a  trait  of  my  heart,  or  a  circumstance,  which  might  one  day 
disgust  her  and  render  her  unhappy ;  I  now  rejoice  at  what  I  have 
done.  If  the  circumstances  into  which -duty  and  country  shall  call 
me,  set  a  limit  to  my  efforts  and  my  hopes,  still  I  shall  not  have  been 
base-minded,  not  vicious ;  I  have  not  sought  to  please  you  in  a  mask, 
— I  have  not  deceived  you  with  chimerical  hopes  of  a  happiness  that 
is  not  to  be  looked  for;  I  have  concealed  from  you  no  danger  and 
no  sorrow  of  the  future ;  I  have  nothing  to  reproach  myself  with." 

It  was  in  the  year  1767  that  Pestalozzi  removed  to  Neuhof.  On 
the  24th  of  January,  1769,  two  years  later,  he  married  Anna  Schul- 
thess,  being  then  only  twenty-four  years  old.  It  was  not  long  before 
troubles  came  upon  the  young  married  couple.  The  madder  planta- 
tion did  not  prosper;  an  assistant  whom  Pestalozzi  had  engaged, 
caused  himself  to  be  hated  by  every  body ;  the  Zurich  firm,  which  had 
advanced  money  to  Pestalozzi,  sent  two  competent  judges  to  examine 
into  the  condition  of  the  estate — both  of  them  reported  so  unfavorably 
upon  it,  especially  upon  the  buildings,  that  the  firm  preferred  taking 
back  their  capital  with  loss,  to  trusting  it  any  longer  in  Pestalozzi's 


LIFE  AN  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  57 

hands.  "  The  cause  of  the  failure  of  my  undertaking,"  says  he,  "  lav 
essentially  and  exclusively  in  myself,  and  in  my  pronounced  incapacity 
for  .-very  kind  of  undertaking  which  requires  eminent  practical 
ability." 

Notwithstanding  the  great  distress  into  which  he  fell,  he  resolved 
not  only  to  go  on  with  farming,  but  to  combine  with  it  a  school  for 
poor  child ivn.  u  I  wished,"  says  he,  "  to  make  my  estate  a  centre  for 
my  educational  and  agricultural  labors.  In  spite  of  all  difficulties,  I 
wanted,  like  a  visionary,  to  reach  the  highest  point  in  every  respect, 
at  the  same  time  that  I  lacked  the  faculties,  abilities,  and  skill,  from 
which  alone  can  proceed  a  proper  attention  to  the  first  and  humblest 
beginnings  and  preparatory  steps  to  the  great  things  which  I  sought 
after.  So  great,  so  unspeakably  great,  in  consequence  of  the  peculiarity 
of  my  mind,  was  the  contrast  between  what  I  wished  to  do  and  what 
I  did  and  was  able  to  do,  which  arose  from  the  disproportion  between 
my  good  natured  zeal,  on  the  one  side,  and  my  mental  impotency  and 
unskillful  ness  in  the  affairs  of  life  on  the  other." 

By  mental  impotency,  we  must  understand  only  a  want  of  school- 
ing or  intellectual  disciplining  of  the  mind,  for  just  at  this  time  Pes- 
talozzi's  literary  talent  made  itself  known.  He  came  forward  with  a 
plan  for  the  establishment  of  the  Poor  School.  His  views  and  prin- 
ciples met  with  so  much  approbation  in  an  economical  point  of  veiw, 
in  spite  of  the  want  of  confidence,  in  his  practical  ability,  that  he 
received  offers  of  assistance  from  Zurich,  Bern,  and  Basel,  and  many 
poor  children  were  sent  to  him. 

Thus  began  the  Neuhof  Poor  School  in  the  year  1775  ;  it  had 
soon  fifty  pupils.  In  the  summer,  the  children  were  to  be  chiefly  em- 
ployed in  field-work, — in  winter,  with  spinning  and  other  handicrafts. 
During  the  time  that  they  were  engaged  in  the  handicrafts,  Pesta- 
lozzi  gave  them  instruction  ;  exercises  in  speaking  were  predominant. 

But  no  long  time  elapsed  before  the  establishment  declined  ;  to 
which  result  many  things  contributed.  The  children,  who  were  to 
earn  their  support  by  their  work,  were,  although  beggar  children, 
spoilt  and  full  of  demands.  Their  parents,  who  every  Sunday  be- 
sieged Neuhof,  confirmed  them  in  this,  and  also  ran  off  with  them  as 
soon  as  they  had  got  new  clothes.  None  of  the  authorities  protected 
Pestalozzi  against  this  misconduct,  from  which  the  farming  suffered  a 
great  deal.  "  But  these  difficulties,"  says  Pestalozzi,  "  might  gradually 
have  been  more  or  less  overcome,  if  I  had  not  sought  to  carry  out 
my  experiment  on  a  scale  that  was  quite  disproportioned  to  my 
strength,  and  had  not,  with  almost  incredible  thoughtlessness,  wanted 
to  convert  it,  in  the  very  beginning,  into  an  undertaking  which  pre- 


58  WE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SY-IKM  i>l    I'l  >l  M  <>//! 

supposed  a  thorough  knowledge  of  maimtaetmvx,  m.-ii,  ami 
in  which  I  was  deficient  in  the  same  proportion  asth«-\  \\.-n-  r«-nd.  i,-,] 
necessary  to  me  by  the  direction  which  I  now  gave  niv  und.-rt.-iK 
I,  who  so  much  disapproved  of  the  hurrying  to  the  higher  stages  of 
instruction, before  a  thorough  foundation  had  been  laid  in  tin-  ••l.-mm- 
tary  steps  of  the  lower  stages,  and  looked  upon  it  as  the  fundamental 
error  in  the  education  of  the  day,  and  who  also  believed  that  I  was 
myself  endeavoring  with  all  my  might  to  counteract  it  in  inv  plan  of 
education,  allowed  myself  to  be  carried  away  by  illusions  of  the  greater 
remunerativeness  of  the  higher  branches  of  industry,  without  knowing 
even  remotely  either  them  or  the  means  of  learning  and  introdm -in^ 
them,  and  to  commit  the  very  faults  in  teaching  my  school  children 
spinning  and  weaving  which,  as  I  have  just  said,  I  so  strongly  repro- 
bated and  denounced  in  the  whole  of  my  views  on  education,  and 
which  I  considered  dangerous  to  the  domestic  happiness  of  all  classes. 
I  wanted  to  have  the  finest  thread  spun,  before  my  childivn  had 
gained  any  steadiness  or  sureness  of  hand  in  spinning  even  the 
coarser  kinds,  and,  in  lik.-  manner  to,  make  mu>lin  fabrics,  before  my 
weavers  had  acquired  sufficient  steadiness  and  readiness  in  the  weaving 
of  common  cotton  goods.  Practiced  and  skillful  manufactuivrs  ruin 
themselves  by  such  preposterous  conduct, — how  much  ID..IV  certain  to 
be  ruined  by  such  conduct  was  I,  who  was  so  blind  in  the  discernment 
of  what  was  necessary  to  success,  that  1  must  .li-tinctly  say,  that  who- 
ever took  but  a  thread  of  mine  into  his  hand  was  at  once  in  a  posi- 
tion to  cause  half  of  its  value  to  vanish  for  me !  Before  I  was  aware 
of  it,  too,  I  was  deeply  involved  in  debt,  and  the  greater  part  of  my 
dear  wife's  property  and  expectations  had  in  an  instant,  as  it  were, 
gone  up  in  smoke.  Our  misfortune  was  decided.  I  was  now  poor. 
The  extent  and  rapidity  of  my  misfortune  was  owing  to  this  among 
other  causes — that,  in  this  undertaking,  as  in  the  first,  I  readily,  very 
readily,  received  an  unquestioning  confidence.  My  plan  soon  m- 1 
with  a  degree  of  confidence  which  an  attentive  consideration  of  my 
former  conduct  would  have  shown  that  which  I  did  not  merit  in  the 
present  undertaking.  After  all  the  experience  they  had  had  of  my 
errors  in  this  respect,  people  still  did  not  think  the  extent  of  my  i 
pacity  for  everything  practical  wras  so  great  as  it  really  was.  I 
yet  enjoyed  for  a  while,  to  all  appearance,  an  extensive  confidence, 
l.ut  when  my  experiment  went  rapidly  to  wreck,  as  it  necessarily  did, 
this  feeling  changed,  in  my  neighborhood,  into  just  as  inconsiderate 
a  degree  of  the  contrary,  into  a  totally  blind  abandonment  of  even 
the  last  shadow  of  respect  for  my  endeavors,  and  of  belief  in  my 
•fitness  for  the  accomplishment  of  any  part  of  them.  It  is  the  course 


LIFE  AM)  EDUCATIONAL  SVSTKM  <>F  I'liS  1  Al.<  >//!  59 

of  the  world,  and  it  happened  to  me  as  it  happens  to  every  one  who 
thus  1  ec"iii'->  poor  through  his  own  fault.  Such  a  man  generally 
!o-_;vther  with  his  money,  the  belief  and  the  contidfiicr  in  what 
hi-  i-f.-illv  is  and  is  able  to  do.  The  bdii-f  in  tin-  qualifications  which 
I  it-ally  had  for  attaining  my  objects  was  now  lost,  along  with  the 
belief  in  those  which,  erring  in  my  self-deception,  I  gave  myself  credit 
for,  but  which  I  really  had  not." 

Thus  it  haj.prn.  d,  that  in  the  year  1780,  lVstalo//i  was  obliged  to 
bivak  up  the  establishment  at  Neulmf,  at't«-r  it  had  b'-en  ii\.-  \.-ars  in 
operation.  His  situation  was  frightful.  Frequently  in  his  only  too 
elegant  country  house  he  wanted  money,  hivad,  fin-1,  in  ord.-r  to  pro 
tect  himself  against  hunger  and  cold.  His  faithful  wife,  who  had 
pledged  nearly  the  whole  of  her  property  for  him,  fell  into  a  severe 
and  tedious  illness.  "My  fri.-nd>,"  relates  Pe>taW.xi,  "now  only 
lo\vd  me  without  hope;  in  the  whole  circuit  of  the  surrounding  dis- 
trict it  was  every  where  said  that  I  was  a  lost  man.  that  nothing  more 
could  be  done  for  me." 

The  breaking  up  of  the  establishment  at  Neuhof  was  a  fortunate 
thing  for  Pestalozzi — and  for  tin-  world  He  was  no  longer  to  fritter 
away  his  strength  in  efforts  to  which  he  was  not  equal.  And,  never- 
thel«  — .  his  Kvere  mental  and  physical  labor  was  not  to  have  been  in 
vain,  but  was  to  bear  precious  fruit-.  As  the  first  of  these  fruits, 
there  appeared  in  1780  a  paper  of  his,  brief  but  full  of  meaning,  in 
Iselin's  Ephemerides,  under  th«-  title,  The  Evening  Hour  of  a  Hermit. 
It  contains  a  series  of  aphorisms,  which  nevertheless  are  cast  in  one 
mould,  and  -tand  among  one  another  in  the  closest  connection. 
Fruits  of  the  past  years  of  Pestalozzi's  life,  they  are  at  the  same 
time  seeds  of  the  following  years,  programme  and  key  to  his  educa- 
tional labors.  "Iselin's  KplM-m.-rid.-s,''  he  writ.-s  in  1801,  alluding  to 
this  Evening  Hour,  "bear  witness,  that  the  dream  of  my  wishes  is  not 
more  comprehensive  now,  than  it  was  when  at  that  time  I  sought  to 
leali/r  it. 

It  is  scarcely  possible  to  make  a  selection  from  these  concise  and 
thought-teeming  aphorisms,  the  more  so  because  they  form,  as  I  have 
said,  a  beautiful  and  ingenious  whole,  which  suffers  in  the  selection. 
Nevertheless,  I  will  run  the  risk  of  selecting  some  of  the  principal 
thought*. 

The  paper  begins  with  melancholy  seriousness.  "Pastors  and 
teachers  of  the  nations,  know  you  man  ;  is  it  with  you  a  matter  of 
conscience  to  understand  his  nature  and  destiny  ? 

"All  mankind  are  in  their  nature  alike,  they  have  but  one  path  to 
•contentment.  The  natural  faculties  of  each  one  are  to  be  perfected 


60  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

into  pure  human  wisdom.  This  general  education  of  man  must  serve- 
as  the  foundation  to  every  education  of  a  particular  rank. 

"  The  faculties  grow  by  exercise. 

"  The  intellectual  powers  of  children  must  not  be  urged  on  to  re- 
mote distances  before  they  have  acquired  strength  by  exercise  in 
things  near  them. 

"The  circle  of  knowledge  commences  close  around  a  man,  and  from 
thence  stretches  out  concentrically. 

"  Real  knowledge  must  take  precedence  of  word-teaching  and  mere 
talk. 

"All  human  wisdom  is  based  upon  the  strength  of  a  good  heart, 
obedient  to  truth.  Knowledge  and  ambition  must  be  subordinated 
to  inward  peace  and  calm  enjoyment. 

"As  the  education  for  the  closest  relations  precedes  the  education 
for  more  remote  ones,  so  must  education  in  the  duties  of  members 
of  families  precede  education  in  the  duties  of  citizens.  But  nearer 
than  father  or  mother  is  God,  '  the  closest  relation  of  mankind  is 
their  relation  to  Him.' 

"Faith  in  God  is  'the  confiding,  childlike  feeling  of  mankind  to- 
ward the  paternal  mind  of  the  Supreme  Being.'  This  faith  is  not  the 
result  and  consequence  of  cultivated  wisdom,  but  is  purely  an  instinct 
of  simplicity ;  a  childlike  and  obedient  mind  is  not  the  consequence 
of  a  finished  education,  but  the  early  and  first  foundation  of  human 
culture.  Out  of  the  faith  in  God  springs  the  hope  of  eternal  life. 
'Children  of  God  are  immortal.' 

"  Belief  in  God  sanctifies  and  strengthens  the  tie  between  parents 
and  children,  between  subjects  and  rulers ;  unbelief  loosens  all  ties, 
annihilates  all  blessings. 

"  Sin  is  the  source  and  consequence  of  unbelief,  it  is  acting  con- 
trary to  the  inward  witness  of  right  and  wrong,  the  loss  of  the  child- 
like mind  toward  God. 

"  Freedom  is  based  upon  justice,  justice  upon  love,  therefore  free- 
dom also  is  based  upon  love. 

"Justice  in  families,  the  purest,  most  productive  of  blessings,  has 
love  for  its  source. 

"  Pure  childlike  feeling  is  the  true  source  of  the  freedom  that  is 
based  upon  justice,  and  pure  paternal  feeling  is  the  source  of  all 
power  of  governing,  that  is  noble  enough  to  do  justice  and  to  love 
freedom.  And  the  source  of  justice  and  of  all  worldly  blessings,  the 
source  of  the  love  and  brotherly  feeling  of  mankind  toward  one  an- 
other, this  is  based  upon  the  great  thought  of  religion,  that  we  are 
children  of  God,  and  that  the  belief  in  this  truth  is  the  sure  ground 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  (J] 

•of  all  worldly  blessings.  In  this  great  thought  of  religion  lies  ever 
the  spirit  of  all  true  state  policy  th'at  seeks  only  the  blessing  of  the 
people,  for  all  inward  power  of  morality,  enlightenment  and  worldly 
wisdom,  is  based  upon  this  ground  of  the  belief  of  mankind  in  God ; 
•and  ungodliness,  misapprehension  of  the  relation  of  mankind  as  chil- 
dren to  the  Supreme  Being,  is  the  source  which  dissolves  all  the 
power  with  which  morals,  enlightenment,  and  wisdom,  are  capable 
of  blessing  mankind.  Therefore  the  loss  of  this  childlike  feeling  of 
mankind  toward  God  is  the  greatest  misfortune  of  the  world,  as  it 
renders  impossible  all  paternal  education  on  the  part  of  God,  and  the 
restoration  of  this  lost  childlike  feeling  is  the  redemption  of  the  lost 
children  of  God  on  earth. 

"The  Son  of  God,  who  with  suffering  and  death  has  restored  tc 
mankind  the  universally  lost  feeling  of  filial  love  toward  God,  is  the  Re- 
deemer of  the  world,  He  is  the  sacrificed  Priest  of  the  Lord,  He  is 
Mediator  between  God  and  sinful  mankind.  His  doctrine  is  pure  jus- 
tice, educative  national  philosophy ;  it  is  the  revelation  of  God  the 
Father  to  the  lost  race  of  his  children." 

Much  might  be  said  upon  these  aphorisms ;  each  is  a  text  for  a 
discourse ;  indeed,  Pestalozzi's  life  is  a  paraphrase  in  facts  of  these 
texts.  We  must  accuse  human  weakness,  if  the  realization  of  his 
great  anticipations  henceforward  also  turns  out  but  miserably,  nay. 
only  too  often  stands  in  the  most  glaring  contradiction  with  ".hem. 
The  plan  of  an  inventive  builder,  however,  retains  its  value,  if  even  the 
builder  himself  lack  the  skill  to  carry  out  the  building  according  tc 
the  plan. 

Rousseau's  Emile  appeared  eighteen  years  before  Pestalozzi's  Eve- 
ning Hour ;  in  what  relation  does  Rousseau  stand  to  Pestalozzi  ?  In 
particular  points  they  frequently  agree.  Like  Pestalozzi,  Rousseau 
requires  real  knowledge  and  trained  skill  in  the  business  of  life,  not 
an  empty  display  of  words,  without  an  insight  into'the  things  them- 
selves, and  a  ready  power  of  acting.  Like  Pestalozzi,  Rousseau  also; 
ridicules  the  plan  of  giving  children  a  discursive  knowledge  about 
things  remote,  and  leaving  them  in  ignorance  of  the  things  in  their 
immediate  vicinity  ;  he  requires,  like  Pestalozzi,  that  they  should  first 
be  at  home  in  this  vicinity. 

In  this  manner  many  other  things  might  be  pointed  out  in  which 
both  men  agree,  arising  principally  from  their  common  aversion  tc 
a  ba&eltiss^jie.ad  talkativeness,  without  any  real  intelligence,  activity 
of  mind,  or  readiness  of  action.  But  when  viewed  more  closely, 
how  immensely  different  are  the  two  men  in  all  that  is  most  essential. 

Rousseau  will  not  have  God  named  before  children  ;  he  is  of  opinion 


62  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

that  long  physical  and  metaphysical  study  is  necessary  to  enable  us- 
to  think  of  God.  With  Pestalozzi,  God  is  the  nearest,  the  most  inti- 
^nate  being  to  man,  the  Alpha  and  Omega  of  his  whole  life.  Rous- 
seau's God  is  no  paternal  God  of  love,  his  Emile  no  child  of  God. 
The  man  who  put  his  children  into  a  foundling  hospital,  knew  nothing 
of  paternal  and  filial  love ;  still  less  of  rulers  as  the  fathers  of  the 
natons,  and  of  the  childlike  obedience  of  subjects;  his  ideal  was  a 
cold,  heartless  freedom,  which  was  not  based  upon  love,  but  was  de- 
'ensive,  isolating,  and  altogether  selfish. 

While,  therefore,  according  to  Pestalozzi,  the  belief  in  God  pene- 
trates, strengthens,  attunes,  sanctifies  all  the  relations  of  men ;  while 
one  relations  between  ruler  and  subjects,  between  fathers  and  children, 
and  the  paternal  love  of  God  to  his  children,  men,  are  every  where 
".effected  in  his  paper — with  Rousseau  there  is  never  any  mention  of 
such  bonds  of  love,. 

A  year  after  the  publication  of  the  Evening  Hour,  namely,  in  1781, 
•  appeared  the  first  part  of  that  work  of  Pestalozzi's  which  established 
pis  reputation,  which  exercised  an  extensive  and  wholesome  influence 
at  the  time,  and  which  will  continue  to  exercise  an  influence  in  future. 
That  work  is  "  Leonard  and  Gertrude :  A  Book  for  the  People." 
It  was  undertaken  at  a  time,  when,  as  he  relates,  "  my  old  friends 
looked  upon  it  as  almost  settled  that  I  should  end  my  days  in  a 
workhouse,  or  in  a  lunatic  asylum."  The  form  was  suggested  by 
Marmontel's  Conies  moraux\  and*  he  was  stimulated  to  effort,  by  a 
few  words  of  encouragement  from  the  bookseller  Fiissli,  of  Zurich,  or 
rather  of  the  brother  better  known  as  JFuseli,  the  painter.  After  a 
few  attempts  at  composition  with  which  he  was  not  satisfied,  "the 
history  of  Leonard  and  Gertrude  flowed  from  my  pen,  I  know  not 
how,  and  developed  itself  of  its  own  accord,  without  my  having  the 
slightest  plan  in  my  head,  and  even  without  my  thinking  of  one. 
In  a  few  weeks,  the  book  stood  there,  without  my  knowing  exactly 
how  I  had  done  it.  I  felt  its  value,  but  only  as  a  man  in  his  sleep 
feels  the  value  of  some  piece  of  good  fortune  of  which  he  is  just 
dreaming.  "  The  book  appeared,  and  excited  quite  a  remarkable  degree 
of  interest  in  my  own  country  and  throughout  the  whole  of  Germany. 
Nearly  all  the  journals  spoke  in  its  praise,  and,  what  is  perhaps  still 
more,  nearly  all  the  almanacs  became  full  of  it;  but  the  most  unex- 
pected thing  to  me  was  that,  immediately  after  its  appearance,  the 
Agricultural  Society  of  Bern  awarded  me  their  great  gold  medal,  with 
a  letter  of  thanks." 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  Q$ 

Pestalozzi  himself  has  repeatedly  spoken  of  the  character  and  ob- 
ject of  Leonard  and  Gertrude.  In  the  preface  to  the  first  edition  of 
the  work,  he  says:  "In  that  which  I  here  relate,  and  which  I  have 
for  .the  most  part  seen  and  heard  myself  in  the  course  of  an  active 
life,  I  have  even  taken  care  not  once  to  add  my  own  opinion  to  what 
I  saw  and  heard  the  people  themselves  feeling,  judging,  believing, 
speaking,  and  attempting.  And  now  this  will  show  itself: — If  the 
results  of  my  observation  are  true,  and  if  I  gave  them  as  I  received 
them,  and  as  it  is  my  aim  to  do,  they  will  find  acceptance  with  all 
those  who  themselves  have  daily  before  their  eyes  the  things  which 
I  relate.  If,  however,  they  are  incorrect,  if  they  are  the  work  of  my 
imagination  and  the  preaching  of  my  own  opinions,  they  will,  like 
other  Sunday  sermons,  vanish  on  the  Monday."  In  the  preface  to 
the  second  edition,  Pestalozzi  gives  as  the  object  of  the  book,  "To 
bring  about  a  better  popular  education,  based  upon  the  true  condition 
of  the  people  and  their  natural  relations."  "It  was,"  he  says,  "my 
first  word  to  the  heart  of  the  poor  and  destitute  in  the  land.  It  was 
my  first  word  to  the  heart  of  those  who  stand  in  God's  stead  to  the 
poor  and  destitute  in  the  land.  It  was  my  first  word  to  the  mothers 
in  the  land,  and  to  the  heart  which  God  gave  them,  to  be  *.D  theirs 
what  no  one  on  earth  can  be  in  their  stead." 

"I  desired  nothing,  and  to-day,  (1800,)  I  desire  nothing  else,  as  the 
object  of  my  life,  but  the  welfare  of  the  people,  whom  I  love,  and 
•whom  I  feel  to  be  miserable  as  few  feel  them  to  be  miserable,  having 
with  them,  borne  their  sufferings  as  few  have  borne  them." 

The  remarks  which  I  have  cited  characterize  the  soul  of  Leonard 
and  Gertrude.  In  the  severe  years  of  suffering  at  Neuhof,  Pestalozzi 
appeared  to  have  wrought  and  suffered  in  vain.  "  To  the  accomplish- 
ment of  my  purpose,"  he  says,  "  there  stood  opposed  my  entire  want 
of  trained  practical  skill,  and  a  vast  disproportion  between  the  extent 
of  my  will  and  the  limits  of  my  ability." 

He  did  not  work  in  vain,  however ;  what  was  denied  him  on  the 
one  side  turned  out  to  his  advantage  on  the  other.  If  he  lacked  all 
skill  in  carrying  out  his  ideas,  he  possessed  on  the  other  hand,  in  the 
highest  degree,  the  faculty  of  observing,  comprehending,  and  por- 
traying character.  If  he  was  not  able  to  exhibit  to  the  world  his 
ideal  realized,  it  was  given  to  him  to  infuse  the  loving  desires  of  his 
heart  into  the  hearts  of  others,  by  means  of  his  talent  of  poetical 
delineation.  He  might  hope  that  men  of  practical  ability  would  be 
among  the  readers  of  his  book,  and  would  be  incited  by  it  to  realize 
what  he  only  knew  how  to  picuire.  He  has  found  such  readers. 
Leonard  and  Gertrude  is  in  so  many  hands,  that  it  is  almost  superflu- 
ous to  give  a  selection  from  the  work.  On.y  this  The  principal 


\ 


64  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

person  in  it  is  Gertrude,  the  wife  of  Leonard,  a  good-natured  but 
rather  weak  man,  whose  stay  and  guardian  she  is.  The  manner  in 
which  she  keeps  house  and  instructs  and  trains  her  children,  is  Pesta- 
lozzi's  ideal.  Such  house-keeping,  such  a  manner  of  instructing  .and 
training,  he  desires  for  all  people.  Gertrude  is  consulted  even  in  the 
management  of  the  village  school.  Her  house-keeping  is  the  bright 
side  of  the  circumstances  depicted ;  in  contrast  with  her  is  a  terribly 
dark  side,  a  peasant  community  in  the  deepest  depravity.  It  is  re- 
lated of  what  Arner,  the  equally  benevolent  and  intelligent  lord  of 
the  village,  does  to  check  the  depravity. 

Pestalozzi  wished  to  give  the  people  the  knowledge  and  skill  need- 
ft"  for  them  chiefly  by  means  of  a  good  elementary  instruction.  If 
this  instruction  began  at  the  right  place,  and  proceeded  properly, 
wnat  an  entirely  different  race  would  arise  out  of  the  children  so 
instructed,  a  race  made  independent  by  intelligence  and  skill ! 

In  vain,  however,  did  Pestalozzi  look  around  him  for  elementary 
teachers  who  could  and  would  instruct  after  his  manner  and  in  his 
spirit.  Seminaries,  too,  were  wanting  in  which  such  teachers  could 
l>e  trained.  Then  the  thought  occurred  to  him  who  had  grown  up  in 
his  mother's  parlor:  "I  will  place  the  education  of  the  people  in  the 
hand-*  of  the  mothers;  I  will  transplant  it  out  of  the  school-room  into 
the  parlor."  Gertrude  was  to  be  the  model  of  mothers.  But  how 
are  the  mothers  in  the  lower  classes  to  be  qualified  for  instructing? — 
We  shall  see  how  Pestalozzi's  Compendium*  are  meant  to  be  an  an- 
swer to  this  question,  to  supply  the  place  of  knowledge  and  teaching 
talent.  The  mothers  have  only  to  keep  strictly  to  these  books  in  the 
instruction  of  their  children ;  if  they  do  this,  the  mother  of  the  most 
limited  capacity  will  instruct  just  as  well  as  the  most  talented ;  com- 
pendiums  and  method  are  to  equalize  their  minds:  such  was  Pesta- 
lozzi's ideal,  to  whirh  I  shall  afterward  come  back. 

With  extreme  short-sightedness,  the  persons  in  immediate  inter- 
course with  Pestalozzi  saw  in  this  book  of  his  dearly-bought  expe- 
rience nothing  more  than  a  proof  that  its  author  was  born  for  novel 
writing,  and  would  in  future  be  able  to  earn  his  bread  by  it. 

Others  understood  better  tlio  value  of  the  book.  Karl  von  Hon- 
*tetten  entreated  Pestalozzi  to  come  and  live  with  him  on  his  estate 
in  Italian  Switzerland;  the  Austrian  Minister  of  Finance,  Count  Zin- 
zendorf,  wished  to  have  him  in  his  neighborhood.  Subsequently,  he 
became  known,  through  Count  Hohenwart,  in  Florence,  to  the  Grand 
Duke  Leopold  of  Tuscany,  who  was  about  to  give  him  an  appoint- 
ment, when  he  was  called  by  the  death  of  Joseph  II.,  to  the  imperial 
throne  of  Germany,  and  the  appointment,  was  therefore  not  made. 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  ^tj 

If  it  be  asked  whether  he  would  have  been  of  any  use  in  a  post  of 
importance,  a  word  of  Lavater's  upon  this  subject  may  contain  the 
answer.  Pestalozzi  tells  us — "  He  once  said  to  his  wife,  '  If  I  were  a 
prince,  I  would  consult  Pestalozzi  in  every  thing  that  concerns  the 
people  and  the  improvement  of  their  condition ;  but  I  would  never 
trust  him  with  a  farthing  of  money.'  At  another  time,  he  said  to  my- 
self, *  When  I  only  once  see  a  line  of  yours  without  a  mistake,  I  will 
believe  you  capable  of  much,  very  much,  that  you  would  like  to  do 
and  to  be.' " 

FOR  seventeen  years  after  the  publication  of  Leonard  and  Gertrude, 
Pestalozzi  continued  to  drag  on  his  needy  and  depressed  existence  at 
Neuhof,  where  he  spent  altogether  thirty  years.  Of  his  outward  life 
during  those  seventeen  years,  we  learn  little  else,  besides  the  general 
fact  just  stated.  It  is  worthy  of  mention,  that  in  this  period  he  en- 
tered the  order  of  Illuminati,  an  order  which  was  characterized  by 
infidelity,  exaggerated  ideas  of  enlightenment,  and  destructive  but  not 
reconstructive  principles,  and  that  he  even  became  eventually  the  head 
of  the  order  in  Switzerland.  He  soon  discovered  his  mistake,  how- 
ever, and  withdrew  from  it.  "That  which  is  undertaken  by  associa- 
tions," he  says,  "  usually  falls  into  the  hands  of  intriguers." 

In  this  period  he  wrote  several  books. 

In  the  year  1782,  he  published  "Christopher  and  Alice."  He 
himself  relates  the  origin  of  this  work.  People  had  imbibed  from 
Leonard  and  Gertrude  the  idea,  that  all  the  depravity  among  the 
common  people  proceeded  from  the  subordinate  functionaries  in  the 
villages.  "In  Christopher  and  Alice,"  says  Pestalozzi,  "I  wished  to 
make  apparent  to  the  educated  public  the  connection  of  those  causes 
of  popular  depravity  which  are  to  be  found  higher  in  the  social  scale, 
but  which  on  this  account  are  also  more  disguised  and  concealed, 
with  the  naked,  undisguised,  and  unconcealed  causes  of  it,  as  they  are 
manifested  in  the  villages  in  the  persons  of  the  unworthy  function- 
aries. For  this  purpose,  I  made  .a  peasant  family  read  together  Leon- 
ard and  Gertrude,  and  say  things  about  the  story  of  that  work,  and 
the  persons  introduced  in  it,  which  I  thought  might  not  occur  of 
themselves  to  everybody's  mind." 

So  says  Pestalozzi  in  the  year  1826;  but  he  spoke  otherwise  in  the 
preface  to  the  book  when  it  first  appeared,  in  1782.  "  Reader!  "  he 
says,  "  this  book  which  thou  takest  into  thy  hand  is  an  attempt  to 
produce  a  manual  of  instruction  for  the  use  of  the  universal  school 
of  humanity,  the  parlor.  I  wish  it  to  be  read  in  every  cottage." 

5 


QQ  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

This  wish  was  not  accomplished,  as  we  learn  from  the  preface  to 
the  second  edition,  (1824,)  which  commences  thus,  "This  book  has 
not  found  its  way  at  all  into  the  hands  of  the  people.  In  my  native 
land,  even  in  the  canton  of  my  native  town,  and  in  the  very  village  in 
which  I  once  lived,  it  has  remained  as  strange  and  unknown,  as  if  it 
had  not  been  in  existence." 

In  the  same  year,  1782,  and  the  one  following,  Pestalozzi  edited 
"  A  Swiss  Journal,"  of  which  a  number  appeared  every  week.  In 
this  Journal,  he  communicated,  among  other  things,  memoirs  of  de- 
ceased friends.  Thus  he  wrote  the  memoirs  of  Frolich,  the  pastor  of 
Birr,  who  had  died  young.  Pestalozzi  says  of  him,  "  he  dedicated 
himself  to  the  work  of  the  great  divine  calling,  but  eternal  love  dedi- 
cated him  to  the  liberty  of  eternal  life."  The  way  in  which  he  speak& 
of  the  excellent  Iselin,  who  had  died  in  1782,  is  particularly  affecting. 
"  I  should  have  perished  in  the  depths  into  which  I  had  fallen,"  he 
says,  "  if  Iselin  had  not  raised  me  up.  Iselin  made  me  feel  that  I 
had  done  something,  even  in  the  poor  school." 

The  discourse  "  on  Legislation  and  Infanticide  "  also  appeared  in 
1782. 

About  1783,  Pestalozzi  contemplated  the  establishment  of  a  lunatic 
asylum  and  a  reformatory  institution,  and  wrote  upon  the  subject;  the 
manuscript,  however,  was  lost. 

In  the  years  between  1780  and  1790,  in  the  days  of  the  approach- 
ing French  revolution,  and  in  the  first  symptoms  of  the  dangers  which 
its  influence  on  Switzerland  might  entail,"  *  he  wrote  "  The  Figures 
to  my  ABC-Book;  they  were  not  published,  however,  till  1795:  a 
new  edition,  under  the  title  of  "Fables,"  came  out  in  1805.  They 
relate  principally  to  the  condition  of  Switzerland  at  that  time. 

In  the  summer  of  1792,  he  went  to  Germany,  at  the  invitation  of 
his  sister  in  Leipzig,  and  became  acquainted  with  Gothe,  Herder, 
Wieland,  Klopstock,  and  Jacobi ;  he  also  visited  several  normal 
schools. 

In  1798  appeared  Pestalozzi's  "Researches  into  the  Course  of  Na- 
ture in  the  Development  of  the  Human  Race."  He  says  himself, 
speaking  of  this  book,  "I  wrought  at  it  for  three  long  years  with  in- 
credible toil,  chiefly  with  the  view  of  clearing  up  my  own  mind  upon 
the  tendency  of  my  favorite  notions,  and  of  bringing  my  natural 
feelings  into  harmony  with  my  ideas  of  civil  rights  and  morality. 
But  this  work  too  is,  to  me,  only  another  evidence  of  my  inward 
helplessness,  the  mere  play  of  my  powers  of  research ;  my  views  were 

*Pesfalo/.zi's  words  in  the  preface  to  the  "  Figures." 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SVSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  g^ 

altogether  one-sided,  while  I  was  without  a  proportionate  degree  of 
control  over  myself  in  regard  to  them,  and  the  work  was  left  void  of 
any  adequate  effort  after  practical  excellence,  which  was  so  necessary 
for  my  purpose.  The  disproportion  between  my  ability  and  my  views 
only  increased  the  more.  The  effect  of  my  book  upon  those  by 
whom  I  was  surrounded  was  like  the  effect  of  all  that  I  did ;  scarcely 
any  one  understood  me,  and  I  did  not  find  in  my  vicinity  two  men 
who  did  not  half  give  me  to  understand  that  they  looked  upon  the 
entire  book  as  so  much  balderdash/' 

Pestalozzi  here  assumes  three  states  of  man :  an  original,  instinct- 
like,  innocent,  animal  state  of  nature,  out  of  which  he  passes  into  the 
social  state,  (this  reminds  us  of  Rosseau ;)  he  works  himself  out  of 
the  social  state  and  raises  himself  to  the  moral.  The  social  man  is 
in  an  unhappy  middle  condition  between  animal  propensities  and 
moral  elevation. 

The  original  animal  state  of  nature  can  not  be  pointed  to  in  any  one 
individual  man ;  the  innocence  of  that  state  ceases  with  the  first  cry 
of  the  new-born  child,  and  "  animal  depravity  arises  from  whatever 
stands  opposed  to  the  normal  condition  of  our  animal  existence." 
Against  this  depravity,  man  seeks  for  aid  in  the  social  state,  but  finds, 
it  not ;  it  is  only  the  moral  will  that  can  save  him,  "  the  force  of 
which  he  opposes  to  the  force  of  his  nature.  He  will  fear  a  God,  in 
order  that  the  animal  instincts  of  his  nature  shall  not  degrade  him  in . 
his  inmost  soul.  He  feels  what  he  can  do  in  this  respect,  and  then  he 
makes  what  he  can  do  the  law  to  himself  of  what  he  ought  to  do. 
Subjected  to  this  law,  which  he  imposes  upon  himself,  he  is  distin- 
guished from  all  other  creatures  with  which  we  are  acquainted." 

Where  and  when,  for  example,  did  Pestalozzi's  man  of  nature  ever 
exist — an  innocent  animal  man,  endowed  with  instinct  ?  *  This 
character  does  not  apply  to  Adam  in  .Paradise,  who  was  not  an 
animal,  but  a  lord  of  the  animals,  and  still  less  does  it  apply  to  any 
child  of  Adam.  In  how  simple  and  sublime  a  manner,  on  the 

*  Voltaire  wrote  the  following  characteristic  letter  to  Rosseau  about  his  discourse,  pre- 
pared and  offered  for  the  prize  proposed  by  the  Academy  of  Dixon,  on  the  origin  of  the 
inequality  among  men,  and  published  in  1775 : — "  I  have  received  your  new  book  against  the 
human  race,'  and  thank  you  for  it.  You  will  please  men,  to  whom  you  speak  the  truth,  but 
not  make  them  better.  No  one  could  paint  in  stronger  colors  the  horrors  of  human  society, 
from  which  our  ignorance  and  weakness  promise  themselves  so  many  delights.  Never  has 
any  one  employed  so  much  genius  to  make  us  into  beasts  ;  when  one  reads  your  book,  one 
is  seized  with  a  desire  to  go  down  on  all  fours.  Nevertheless,  as  I  have  left  off  this  habit 
already  more  than  sixty  years,  I  feel,  unfortunately,  that  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  take  to  it 
again,  and  I  leave  this  natural  mode  of  walking  to  others  who  are  more  worthy  of  it  than 
you  and  I.  Neither  can  I  take  ship,  in  order  to  visit  the  savages  -of  Canada,  firstly,  oecause 
the  maladies  to  which  I  am  condemned,  render  a  European  physician  necessary  to  me  ;  then 
again,  because  there  is  at  present  war  in  that  country, .and  the  examples  of  our  nations  has 
made  the  savages  almost  as  bad  as  we  are  ourselves.  I  am  content  to  live  as  a  peaceful 
eavage  in  the  lonely  district  adjoining  your  native  land,  &c  " 


(J8  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

contrary,  do  the  Holy  Scriptures  comprehend  and  characterize  the 
whole  human  race. 

Thus  we  see  Pestalozzi  but  little  or  not  at  all  engaged  in  educa- 
tional undertakings  during  the  eighteen  years  from  1780  to  1798* 
his  writings  too,  during  this  time  are  mainly  of  a  philosophical  and 
political  character,  and  relate  only  indirectly  to  education.  But  the 
French  revolution  introduced  a  new  epoch,  for  Pestalozzi,  as  well  as 
for  Switzerland. 

The  revolutionary  armies  of  France  pressed  into  the  country,  old 
forms  were  destroyed,  the  whole  of  Switzerland  was  consolidated  into 
an  "  inseparable  republic,"  at  the  head  of  which  stood  five  directors, 
after  the  model  of  the  French  directional  government  of  that  time. 
Among  these  was  Legrand,  a  man  of  a  class  that  is  always  becoming 
more  rare.  I  visited  the  amiable  octogenarian  in  Steinthal,  where 
formerly,  with  his  friend  Oberlin,  he  had  labored  for  the  welfare  of 
the  communes.  When  the  conversation  turned  on  the  happiness  or 
the  education  of  the  people,  or  on  the  education  of  youth  generally, 
the  old  man  became  animated  with  youthful  enthusiasm,  and  tears 
started  to  his  eyes. 

Legrand  was  a  friend  of  Pestalozzi's ;  no  wonder,  seeing  that  the 
two  men  very  nearly  resembled  each  other  in  their  way  of  thinking, 
as  well  as  in  their  enthusiastic  activity  and  their  unbounded  hopeful- 
ness. Pestalozzi  joined  the  new  republic,  while,  at  the  same  time,  he 
did  all  in  his  power  to  subdue  the  Jacobinical  element  in  it.  He 
wrote  a  paper  "  On  the  Present  Condition  and  Disposition  of  Man- 
kind." In  this  paper,  as  also  in  the  "  Swiss  People's  Journal,"  which 
he  edited  at  the  instigation  of  the  government,  he  pressed  upon  the 
attention  of  the  people  the  necessity  of  a  return  to  the  integrity  and 
piety  of  their  ancestors ;  the  instruction  arid  education  of  youth,  he 
represented,  were  the  means  for  attaining  this  object. 

Although,  in  pointing  to  an  ennobling  education  of  youth,  and 
especially  the  youth  of  the  people  and  the  poor,  as  the  securest  guar- 
antee of  a  lawfully  ordered  political  condition,  he  only  did  that  which 
he  could  not  leave  undone ;  still  most  people  believed  that  he  was 
speaking  and  writing  thus  industriously,  merely  with  the  view  of  pro- 
curing for  himself  an  office  under  the  new  government,  when  an  op- 
portunity should  arise.  The  government  on  whom  he  urged  with  far 
too  much  vehemence  the  importance  of  order,  justice,  and  law,  actu* 
ally  offered  him  an  appointment,  in  the  hope  that  he  would  then  be 
quiet.  But  what  was  their  astonishment,  when,  in  reply  to  their  in- 
quiry as  to  what  office  he  would  be  willing  to  accept,  he  said,  "  I  WILL 
BE  A  SCHOOLMASTER."  But  few  understood  him,  only  those  who, 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 


69 


like  himself,  were  earnestly  desirous  for  the  foundation  of  a  truly 
equitable  political  condition. 

Legrand  entered  into  the  idea ;  and  Pestalozzi  was  already  about 
to  open  an  educational  institution  in  the  canton  of  Argovia,  when  one 
of  the  misfortunes  of  war  intervened.  On  the  9th  of  September, 
1798,  Stanz  in  Unterwalden  was  burnt  by  the  French,  the  entire  can-- 
ton was  laid  waste,  and  a  multitude  of  fatherless  and  motherless 
children  were  wandering  about  destitute  and  without  a  shelter.  Le- 
grand now  called  upon  Pestalozzi  to  go  to  Stanz  and  undertake  the 
care  of  the  destitute  children. 

Pestalozzi  went ;  what  he  experienced  he  has  himself  told  us. 

The  convent  of  the  Ursulines  there  was  given  up  to  him ;  he  took 
up  his  abode  in  it,  accompanied  only  by  a  housekeeper,  before  it  was 
even  put  into  a  fit  condition  for  the  reception  of  children.  Gradually 
he  gathered  around  him  as  many  as  eighty  poor  children,  from  four 
to  ten  years  old,  some  of  them  orphans,  horribly  neglected,  infected 
with  the  itch  and  scurvy,  and  covered  with  vermin.  Among  ten  of 
them,  scarcely  one  could  say  the  alphabet.  He  describes  the  educa- 
tional experiments  which  he  made  with  such  children,  and  speaks 
of  these  experiments  as  "  a  sort  of  feeler  of  the  pulse  of  the  science 
which  he  sought  to  improve,  a  venturesome  effort."  "A  person  with 
the  use  of  his  eyes,"  he  adds,  "  would  certainly  not  have  ventured 
it;  fortunately,  I  was  blind." 

For  example,  under  the  most  difficult  circumstances,  he  wanted  to 
prove,  by  actual  experiment,  that  those  things  in  which  domestic  edu- 
cation possesses  advantages  must  be  imitated  in  public  education. 

He  gave  the  children  no  set  lessons  on  religion ;  being  suspected 
by  the  Roman  Catholic  parents,  as  a  Protestant,  and  at  the  same  time 
as  an  adherent  of  the  new  government,  he  did  not  dare ;  but  when- 
ever the  occurrence  of  daily  life  presented  an  opportunity,  he  would 
make  them  the  groundwork  of  inculcating  some  religious  or  moral 
lesson.  As  he  had  formerly  done  at  Neuhof,  he  sought  to  combine 
intellectual  instruction  with  manual  labor,  the  establishment  for  in- 
struction with  that  for  industrial  occupations,  and  to  fuse  the  two  into 
each  other.  But  it  became  clear  to  him,  that  the  first  stages  of  in- 
tellectual training  must  be  separated  from  those  of  industrial  training 
and  precede  the  fusion  of  the  two.  It  was  here  in  Stanz  also  that 
Pestalozzi,  for  want  of  other  assistants,  set  children  to  instruct  chil- 
dren, a  plan  which  Lancaster  was  similarly  led  to  adopt  in  conse- 
quence of  the  inability  of  the  teacher  to  instruct  the  large  numbers 
of  children  who  were  placed  under  his  charge.*  Pestalozzi  remarks, 

*  Lancaster's   monitors,  t.e   children,  set  to  teach  and   superintend  other  children.    "At 
that  time,  (1798,)"  says  I'estalozzi.  "  nobody  had  begun  to  ppeak  of  mutual  instruction." 


70  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

•without  disapprobation,  that  a  feeling  of  honor  was  bv  this  means, 
awakened  in  the  children ;  a  remark  which  directly  contradicts  his 
opinion,  that  the  performance  of  the  duties  of  the  monitor  proceeded 
from  a  disposition  similar  to  brotherly  love. 

Another  plan,  which  is  now  imitated  in  countless  elementary  schools, 
was  likewise  tried  by  Pestalozzi  at  Stanz,  namely,  that  of  making  a 
number  of  children  pronounce  the  same  sentences  simultaneously, 
syllable  for  syllable.*  uThe  confusion  arising  from  a  number  of 
children  repeating  after  me  at  once,"  he  says,  "  led  me  to  see  the  ne- 
cessity of  a  measured  pace  in  speaking,  and  this  measured  pace 
heightened  the  effect  of  the  lesson." 

Pestalozzi  repeats,  in  his  account  of  the  Stanz  institution,  what  he 
had  brought  forward  in  Leonard  and  Gertrude.  "  My  aim,"  he  says, 
"  was  to  carry  the  simplification  of  the  means  of  teaching  so  far,  that 
all  the  common  people  might  easily  be  brought  to  teach  their  chil- 
dren, and  gradually  to  render  the  schools  almost  superfluous  for  the 
first  elements  of  instruction.  As  the  mother  is  the  first  to  nourish 
her  child  physically,  so  also,  by  the  appointment  of  God,  she  must  be 
the  first  to  give  it  spiritual  nourishment ;  I  reckon  that  very  great 
evils  have  been  engendered  by  sending  children  too  early  to  school, 
and  by  all  the  artificial  means  of  educating  them  away  from  home. 
The  time  will  come,  so  soon  as  we  shall  have  simplified  instruction, 
when  every  mother  will  be  able  to  teach,  without  the  help  of  others, 
and  thereby,  at  the  same  time,  to  go  on  herself  always  learning." 

I  refer  the  reader  to  Pestalozzi's  own  description  of  his  singularly 
active  labors  in  Stanz,  where  he  was  not  only  the  teacher  and  trainer 
of  eighty  children,  but,  as  he  says,  paymaster,  manservant,  and  al- 
most housemaid,  at  the  same  time.  In  addition  to  this,  sickness 
broke  out  among  the  children,  and  the  parents  showed  themselves 
shamelessly  ungrateful. 

Pestalozzi  would  have  sunk  under  these  efforts  had  he  not  been 
liberated  on  the  8th  of  June,  1799,  by  the  French,  who,  being  hard 
pressed  by  the  Austrians,  came  to  Stanz,  and  converted  one  wing  of 
the  convent  into  a  military  hospital.  This  induced  him  to  let  the 
children  return  to  their  friends,  and  he  went  himself  up  the  Gurnigel 
mountains,  to  a  medicinal  spring.  Only  twenty-two  children  re- 
mained ;  these,  says  Mr.  Heussler,  "  were  attended  to,  taught,  and 
trained,  if  not  in  Pestalozzi's  spirit,  still  with  care  and  with  more 
:>rder  and  cleanliness,  under  the  guidance  of  the  reverend  Mr. 
Businger." 

*  The  plan  of  simultaneous  reading  and  speaking  had  been  introduced  into  the  Austrian 
schools  at  an  earlier  period. 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  7^ 

"  On  the  Gurnigel,"  says  Pestalozzi,  "  I  enjoyed  days  of  recreation. 
•I  required  them  ;  it  is  a  wonder  that  I  am  still  alive.  I  shall  not  for- 
get those  days,  as  long  as  I  live :  they  saved  me,  but  I  could  njt  live 
without  my  work." 

Pestalozzi  was  much  blamed  for  giving  up  the  Stanz  institution, 
although  necessity  had  compelled  him  to  do  so.  "  People  said  to  my 
face,"  he  says,  "  that  it  was  a  piece  of  folly,  to  believe  that,  because  a 
man  had  written  something  sensible  in  his  thirtieth  year,  he  would 
therefore  be  capable  of  doing  something  sensible  in  his  fiftieth  year. 
I  was  said  to  be  brooding  over  a  beautiful  dream." 

Pestalozzi  came  down  from  the  Gurnigel ;  at  the  advice  of  Chief 
Justice  Schnell,  he  went  to  Burgdorf,  the  second  town  in  the  canton 
of  Bern,  where  through  the  influence  of  well-wishers,  Pestalozzi  ob- 
tained leave  to  give  instruction  in  the  primary  schools.  *  He  had 
many  enemies.  The  head  master  of  the  schools  imagined  that  Pes- 
talozzi wanted  to  supplant  him  in  his  appointment :  the  report  spread 
that  the  Heidelberg  catechism  was  in  danger :  "  it  was  whispered," 
says  Pestalozzi,  "  that  I  myself  could  not  write,  nor  work  accounts, 
nor  even  read  properly.  Popular  reports  are  not  always  entirely  des- 
titute of  truth,"  he  adds ;  "  it  is  true  that  I  could  not  write,  nor  read, 
nor  work  accounts  well. 

As  far  as  the  regulations  of  the  school  would  allow,  Pestalozzi  pro- 
secuted here  the  experiments  in  elementary  instruction  which  he  had 
begun  at  Stanz.  M.  Glayre,  a  member  of  the  executive  council  of 
the  canton,  to  whom  he  endeavored  to  explain  the  tendency  of  these 
experiments,  made  the  ominous  remark,  "  You  want  to  render  educa- 
tion mechanical."  "He  hit  the  nail  on  the  head,"  says  Pestalozzi, 
"  and  supplied  me  with  the  very  expression  that  indicated  the  object 
of  my  endeavors,  and  of  the  means  which  I  employed  for  attaining 
it." 

Pestalozzi  had  not  been  schoolmaster  at  Burgdorf,  quite  a  year, 
when  he  had  a  pulmonary  attack;  in  consequence  of  this  he  gav<-  up 
the  appointment,  and  a  new  epoch  of  his  life  commenced.  M.  Fis- 
cher, secretary  to  the  Helvetian  minister  of  public  instruction,  had 
entertained  the  idea  of  founding  a  normal  school  in  the  castle  of 
Burgdorf,  but  had  died  before  carrying  it  into  execution.  With  this 
end  in  view,  he  had  induced  M.  Kriisi  to  come  to  Burgdorf.  Kriisi 
was  a  native  of  Gaiss,  in  the  canton  of  Appenzell,  was  schoolmaster 
there  at  the  early  age  of  eighteen,  and  had  migrated  thence  in  the 
year  1799,  taking  with  him  28  children.  Pestalozzi  now  proposed 

*  In  a  school  in  which  children  from  four  ro  eight  years  old  received  instructions  in 
reading  and  writing,  under  the  general  superintendence  of  a  female  teacher. 


72  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZl. 

to  Kriisi  to  join  him  in  establishing  an  educational  institution :  Kriisi 
willingly  agreed,  and  through  him  the  cooperation  of  M.  Tobler, 
who  had  been  for  the  last  five  years  tutor  in  a  family  in  Basel,  was 
obtained;  through  Tobler,  that  of  M.  Buss,  of  Tubingen.  With 
these  three  assistants,  Pestalozzi  opened  the  institution  in  the  winter 
of  1800. 

It  was  in  Burgclorf  that  Pestalozzi  commenced  a  work  whicfy  with 
the  "  Evening  Hour,"  and  "  Leonard  and  Gertrude,"  stands  otit  con- 
•picuously  amongst  his  writings.  It  was  commenced  on  the  1st  of 
January,  1801. 

I  It  bears  the  queer  title,  "  How  Gertrude  teaches  her  children  :  an 

attempt  to  give  Directions  to  Mothers  how  to  instruct  their  own  Chil- 
dren." The  reader  must  not  be  misled  by  the  title ;  the  book 
contains  any  thing  but  directions  for  mothers." 

There  are  numerous  contradictions  throughout  the  book,  as  well  as 
on  the  title  page ;  and  it  is  therefore  a  most  difficult  task  to  give  a 
condensed  view  of  it.  Almost  the  only  way  to  accomplish  this  will 
be  to  resolve  it  into  its  elements. 

Nothing  can  be  more  touching  than  the  passage  in  which  the 
author  speaks  of  the  desire  of  his  whole  life  to  alleviate  the  condition 
of  the  suffering  people — of  his  inability  to  satisfy  this  desire — of  his 
many  blunders — and  of  his  despair  of  himself;  and  then  humbly 
thanks  God,  who  had  preserved  him,  when  he  had  cast  himself  away, 
and  who  graciously  permitted  him,  even  in  old  age,  to  look  forward 
to  a  brighter  future.  It  is  impossible  to  read  any  thing  more  affecting. 

The  second  element  of  this  book  is  a  fierce  and  fulminating  battle 
against  the  sins  and  faults  of  his  time.  He  advances  to  the  assault 
at  storm-pace,  and  clears  every  thing  before  him  with  the  irresistible 
force  of  truth.  He  directs  his  attack  principally  against  the  hollow 
education  of  our  time,  particularly  in  the  higher  ranks  of  society. 
He  calls  the  members  of  the  aristocracy  "  miserable  creatures  of  mere 
words,  who  by  the  artificialities  of  their  mode  of  life  are  rendered 
incapable  of  feeling  that  they  themselves  stand  on  stilts,  and  that 
they  must  come  down  off  their  wretched  wooden  legs,  in  order  to 
stand  on  God's  earth  with  even  the  same  amount  of  firmness  as  the 
people." 

In  another  part  of  the  book,  Pestalozzi  declaims  warmly  against  all 
the  education  of  the  present  age.  "  It  sacrifices,  (he  says,)  the  sub 
stance  of  all  instruction  to  the  nonsense  about  particular  isolated  sys- 
tem of  instruction,  and  by  filling  the  mind  with  fragments  of  truth, 
it  quenches  the  spirit  of  truth  itself,  and  deprives  mankind  of  the 
power  of  independence  which  is  based  thereon.  I  have  found,  what 


AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  73 

was  very  obvious,  that  this  system  of  instruction,  does  nut  base  the 
use  of  particular  means  either  on  elementary  principles  or  elementary 
forms.  The  state  of  popular  instruction  rendered  it  inevitable  that 
Europe  should  sink  into  error,  or  rather  madness,  and  into  this  it 
really  did  sink.  On  the  one  hand,  it  raised  itself  into  a  gigantic 
height  in  particular  arts ;  on  the  other,  it  lost  for  the  whole  of  its 
people  all  the  stability  and  support  which  are  to  be  obtained  by  rest- 
ing on  the  guidance  of  nature.  On  the  one  side,  no  quarter  of  the  globe 
ever  stood  so  high  ;  but  on  the  other,  no  quarter  of  the  globe  has  ever 
sunk  so  low.  With  the  golden  head  of  its  particular  arts,  it  touches 
the  clouds,  like  the  image  of  the  prophet ;  but  popular  instruction, 
which  ought  to  be  the  basis  and  support  of  this  golden  head,  is  every 
where,  on  the  contrary,  the  most  wretched,  fragile,  good-for-nothing 
clay,  like  the  feet  of  that  gigantic  image."  . 

For  this  incongruity  in  our  intellectual  culture,  he  blames  chiefly 
the  art  of  printing,  through  which,  he  says,  the  eyes  have  become 
book-eyes — men  have  become  book-men. 

»  ^^^^ 

Throughout  the  work,  he  speaks  against  the  senseless  use  of  the 
tongue — against  the  habit  of  talking  without  any  real  purpose. 
"  The  babbling  disposition  of  our  time,  (he  says,)  is  so  much  bound 
up  with  the  struggle  of  tens  of  thousands  and  hundreds  of  thousands 
for  their  daily  bread,  and  with  their  slavish  adherence  to  custom,  that 
it  will  be  long,  very  long,  before  this  temporizing  race  shall  gladly 
receive  into  their  hearts  truths  so  much  opposed  to  their  sensual  de- 
pravity. Wherever  the  fundamental  faculties  of  the  human  mind 
are  allowed  to  lie  dormant,  and  on  those  dormant  faculties  empty 
words  are  propt  up,  there  you  are  making  dreamers,  whose  visions  are 
all  the  more  visionary  because  the  words  that  were  propt  up  on  their 
miserable  yawning  existence,  were  high-sounding,  and  full  of  preten- 
sions. As  a  matter  of  course,  such  pupils  will  dream  any  and  every" 
thing  before  they  will  dream  that  they  are  sleeping  and  dreaming  ; 
but  all  those  about  them  who  are  awake,  perceive  their  presumption, 
and,  (when  it  suits,)  put  them  down  as  somnambulists. 

"The  meaningless  declamation  of  this  superficial  knowledge  pro- 
duces men  who  fancy  that  they  have  reached  the  goal  in  all  branches 
of  study,  just  because  their  whole  life  is  a  belabored  prating  about 
that  goal ;  but  they  never  accomplish  so  much  as  to  make  an  effort  to 
reach  it,  because  through  their  life  it  never  had  that  alluring  charm 
in  their  eyes  which  any  object  must  possess  to  induce  a  man  to  make 
an  effort  to  attain  it.  The  present  age  abounds  in  men  of  this  class,, 
and  is  diseased  by  a  kind  of  wisdom  which  carries  us  forward  pro 
forma,  as  cripples  are  borne  along  a  race-course,  to  the  goal  of  knowl- 


4 


74  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

edge,  when,  at  the  same  time,  it  could  never  enable  us  to  advance 
toward  this  gaol  by  our  own  efforts,  before  our  feet  had  been  healed." 

In  other  parts  of  the  book  he  attacks  governments  as  indifferent  to 
the  welfare  of  the  people.  "  The  lower  classes  of  Europe,  (he  says,) 
are  neglected  and  wretched :  most  of  those  who  stand  sufficiently 
near  to  be  able  to  help  them,  have  no  time  for  thinking  what  may  be 
for  their  welfare — they  have  always  something  to  do  quite  different 
from  this." 

From  this,  the  second  and  polemical  element  of  the  book,  I  pass  to 

the  third  and  positive  one,  namely,  the  kind  of  education  by  which 

,  Pestalozzi   proposes  to  replace  the  false  education  of  our  time.     This 

l  might  in  some  measure  be  anticipated  from  the  polemical  passages 

1  which  have  been  cited. 

He  thus  enunciates  the  problem  which  he  proposed  to  himself  to 
solve  :  "  In  the  empirical  researches  which  1  made  in  reference  to  my 
subject,  I  did  not  start  from  any  positive  system ;  I  was  not  ac- 
ouainted  with  any  one;  I  simply  put  to  myself  the  question,  What 
would  you  do,  if  you  wanted  to  give  a  single  child  all  the  theoretical 
knowledge  and  practical  skill  which  he  requires  in  order  to  be  able  to 
attend  properly  to  the  great  concerns  of  life,  and  so  attain  to  inward 
contentment  ?" 

Theoretical  knowledge  and  practical  skill  constitute,  accordingly, 
the  most  important  subjects  of  the  work.  They  are  treated  with  u 
special  relation  to  the  two  questions, — What  knowledge  and  skill  do 
children  require  ?  and,  How  are  these  best  imparted  to  them  ?  The 
aim  is  to  point  out  the  proper  object  of  education,  and  the  way  to 
attain  that  object. 

Of  practical  skill,  however,  there  is  comparatively  very  little  said, 
notwithstanding  that  Pestalozzi  sets  so  high  a  value  upon  it.  "  Knowl- 
edge without  skill,  (he  says,)  is  perhaps  the  most  fatal  gift  which  an 
evil  genius  has  bestowed  upon  the  present  age."  But  Festal*  i/x.i'd 
ideas  in  relation  to  practical  skill,  and  the  method  of  attaining  it, 
seem  to  have  been  still  indistinct. 

On  the  other  hand,  he  is  quite  at  home  in  the  region  of  theoretical 
knowledge :  to  show  the  starting-point,  the  road,  and  the  destination, 
in  the  journey  through  this  region,  is  the  main  design  of  his  work. 

His  polemic  against  senseless  talking  shows  that  he  had  sought 
and  found  the  real  root  of  the  tree  of  which  words  are  the  spiritual 
blossoms. 

The  beginning  of  all  knowledge,  according  to  Pestalozzi,  is  observa- 
tion ;  the  last  point  to  be  attained,  a  clear  notion.  He  says:  "If  I 
look  back  and  ask  myself  what  1  really  have  done  toward  the 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  tj ^ 

improvement  of  the  methods  of  elementary  instruction,  I  find  that,  .1 
recognizing  observation  as  the  absolute  basis  of  all  knowledge,  I  have 
established  the  first  and  most  important  principle  of  instruction,  and 
that,  setting  aside  all  particular  systems  of  instructions,  I  have  endeav- 
ored to  discover  what  ought  to  be  the  character  of  the  instruction 
itself,  and  what  are  the  fundamental  laws  according  to  which  the  edu- 
cation of  the  human  race  must  be  determined  by  nature."  In  another 
place,  he  requires  it  to  be  acknowledged,  "that  observation  is  the  ab- 
solute basis  of  all  knowledge,  in  other  words,  that  all  knowledge  must 
proceed  from  observation  and  must  admit  of  being  retraced  to  that 
source." 

But  what  does  Pestalozzi  understand  by  observation?  "It  Is,  (he 
says,)  simply  directing  the  senses  to  outward  objects,  and  exciting  con- 
sciousness of  the  impression  produced  on  them  by  those  objects." 
He  refers,  of  course,  principally  to  the  sense  of  sight.  But  the  ear  is 
not  to  be  neglected.  "  When  sounds  are  produced  so  as  to  be  heard 
by  the  child,  and  its  consciousness  of  the  impression  which  these 
sounds  make  on  its  mind  through  the  sense  of  hearing  is  aroused, 
this,  to  the  child,  is  just  as  much  observation,  as  when  objects  are 
placed  before  its  eyes,  and  consciousness  is  awakened  by  the  impres- 
sion which  the  objects  make  on  the  sense  of  sight.  By  the  aid  of 
'his  spelling  book,  therefore,  the  child's  ear  is  to  be  familiarized  with 
the  series  of  elementary  sounds  which  constitutes  the  foundation  of 
a  knowledge  of  language,  just  as  it  is  to  be  made  acquainted  wi:h 
visible  objects  by  the  aid  of  his  Book  for  Mothers. 

According  to  this,  observation  would  mean  every  impression  whicL 
the  mind  receives  through  the  eye  and  the  ear. 

Does  Pestalozzi  exclude  the  remaining  senses  ?  No ;  for  he  fre- 
quently, speaks  of  the  impressions  of  the  jive  senses,  and  he  says  that 
the  understanding  collects  the  impressions  which  the  senses  receive 
from  external  nature  into  a  whole,  or  into  a  notion,  and  then  develops 
this  idea  until  it  attains  clearness.  And  elsewhere  he  says  that  the 
mechanical  form  of  all  instruction  should  be  regulated  by  the  eternal 
laws  according  to  which  the  human  mind  rises  from  the  perceptions 
of  sense  to  clear  notions. 

Pestalozzi  repeatedly  dwells  upon  this  process  of  intellectual 
development. 

Above  every  thing,  he  will  have  attention  given  to  the  first  step  in 
the  process,  namely  observation.  Care  is  to  be  taken  that  the  objeccs 
are  seen  separately  by  the  children",  not  dimly  at  a  distance,  but  close 
at  hand  and  distinctly ;  then  also  that  there  shall  be  placed  before 
the  children,  not  abnoimal,  but  characteristic  specimens  of  any  class 


76  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PE8TALOZZI. 

of  objects — such  as  will  convey  a  correct  idea  of  the  thing  and  of  its; 
most  important  properties.  Thus,  for  example,  a  lame,  one-eyed,  or 
six-fingered  man,  he  says,  would  not  be  proper  to  convey  the  idea  of 
the  human  form. 

Out  of  the  observation  of  an  object,  the  first  thing  that  arises,  he 
says,  is  the  necessity  of  naming  it;  from  naming  it,  we  pass  on  to 
determining  its  properties,  that  is  to  description  ;  out  of  a  clear  des- 
cription is  finally  developed  the  definition — the  distinct  idea  of  the 
object.  The  full  maturity  of  this,  the  last  fruit  of  all  instruction,  de- 
pends materially  on  the  vigorous  germination  of  the  seed  sown  in  the 
first  instance — on  the  amount  of  wisdom  exercised  in  guiding  the 
children  to  habits  of  observation.  Definitions  not  founded  on  obser 
vations,  he  says,  produce  a  superficial  and  unprofitable  kind  of 
knowledge. 

Just  when  we  begin  to  think  that  we  understand  Pestalozzi's  views, 
he  again  leads  us  into  uncertainty  as  to  the  idea  which  he  attaches  to 
observation. 

He  says  the  idea  had  only  lately  struck  him,  "  that  all  our  knowl- 
edge arises  out  of  number,  form,  and  words."  On  this  triple  basis,, 
he  says,  education  must  proceed ;  and — 

"  1.  It  must  teach  the  children  to  look  attentively  at  every  object 
which  they  are  made  to  perceive  as  unity,  that  is,  as  separated  from, 
those  other  objects  with  which  it  appears  in  connection. 

2.  It  must  make  them  acquainted  with  the  form  of  every  object, 
that  is,  its  size  and  proportion. 

3.  It  must  teach   them  as  early  as  possible  the  names  and  words 
applicable  to  all  the  objects  with  which  they  are  acquainted." 

Pestalozzi  found  it  difficult,  however,  to  answer  the  question,  "  Why 
are  not  all  the  other  properties  which  the  five  senses  enable  us  to  per- 
ceive in  objects,  just  as  much  elements  of  our  knowledge,  as  number, 
form,  and  name  ?"  His  answer  is,  "All  possible  objects  have  neces- 
sarily number,  form,  and  name ;  but  the  remaining  properties  which 
the  senses  enable  us  to  perceive  are  not  possessed  by  any  object  in 
common  with  all  others,  but  this  property  is  shared  with  one  object, 
and  that  with  another." 

When  Pestalozzi  made  form  a  category  to  embrace  all  and  every 
thing,  he  only  thought  of  the  visible,  as  is  evidenced  by  the  further 
development  of  his  instruction  in  form,  which  deals  chiefly  with  the 
measuring  of  visible  objects. 

But  there  are  innumerable  observations  which  have  nothing  what- 
ever to  do  with  form  and  number ;  for  example,  tasting  honey,, 
smelling  roses,  &c.  . 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

The  prominence  which  Pestalozzi  gave  to  form  and  number  caused 
him  to  undertake  a  new  treatment  of  the  subjects  of  geometry  and 
arithmetics  Subsequently  he  divided  geometry  into  instruction  i  i 
'form  and  instruction  in  spaces,  for  the  reason  that  we  perceive  shape 
and  size,  (mathematical  quality  and  quantity,)  independently  of  each 
other ;  drawing  he  made  a  part  of  the  instruction  in  form — writing  a 
part  of  drawing. 

But  what  became  of  Pestalozzi's  principle,  that  observation  is  ^he 
foundation  of  all  intelligence,  when  he  thus  gave  an  undue  prominence 
to  form  and  number,  and  neglected  all  other  properties?  Suppose 
that  we  put  a  glass  cube  into  the  hands  of  a  child  and  he  observes  in 
respect  to  it  nothing  else,  but  that  it  has  the  cubic  form,  and,  over  and 
above  this,  that  it  is  one  cube, — so  far  this  glass  cube  is  in  no  way 
distinguished  from  a  wooden  one.  But  if  I  require  to  take  notice  of 
other  properties,  such  as  color,  transparency,  weight.  <fcc.,  in  order 
that  I  may  form  a  correct  idea  of  the  glass  cube,  as  a  separate  object, 
and  so  describe  it  that  it  shall  be  distinguished  with  certainty  from 
every  other  cube, — then  I  must  fix  my  attention,  not  only  on  form  and 
number,  but  on  all  apparent  properties,  as  elements  in  a  complete 
observation. 

Lastly,  language  itself  has  nothing  to  do  with  observation.  Why 
should  I  not  be  able  to  form  a  perfectly  correct  notion  of  an  object 
that  has  no  name — for  instance  a  newly-discovered  plant  ?  Language 
only  gives  us  the  expression  for  the  impressions  of  the  senses ;  in  it 
is  reflected  the  whole  world  of  our  perceptions.  "  It  is,"  as  Pestalozzi 
rightly  observes,  "  the  reflex  of  all  the  impressions  which  nature's 
entire  domain  has  made  on  the  human  race."  But  what  does  he  go 
on  to  say  ?  "  Therefore  I  make  use  of  it,  and  endeavor,  by  the 
guidance  of  its  uttered  sounds,  to  reproduce  in  the  child  the  self-same 
impressions  which,  in  the  human  race,  have  occasioned  and  formed 
these  sounds.  Great  is  the  gift  of  language.  Tt  gives  to  the  child  in 
one  moment  what  nature  required  thousands  of  years  to  give  man." 

In  that  case,  every  child  would  be  a  rich  heir  of  antiquity,  without 
the    trouble    of  acquisition;    words  would  be  current  notes  for  the 
things  which  they  designate.     But  both  nature  and  history  protest 
against  payment  in  such  currency,  and  give  only  to  him   that  ha*,h. 
Does  not  Pestalozzi  himself  repeatedly  protest  against  this  very  thing  ? 
"  The   Christian   people  of  our  quarter  of  the   world,  (he  says,)  have 
sunk  into  these  depths,  because  in  their  lower  school  establishments  | 
the  mind  has  been  loaded  with  a  burden  of  empty  words,  which  has  1 
not  only  effaced  the  impressions  of  nature,  but  has  even  destroyed  the 
inward  susceptibility  for  such  impressions." 


78  I'IFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

Pestalozzi's  further  treatment  of  the  instruction  in  language  clearly 
proves  that,  contrary  to  his  own  principles,  he  really  ascribed  a  mag- 
ical power  to  words — that  he  put  them  more  or  less  in  the  place  of 
observation — and,  (to  speak  with  a  figure,)  that  he  made  the  reflected 
image  of  a  thing  equal  to  the  thing  itself. 

As  this  error  of  Pestalozzi's  is  of  the  greatest  consequence,  I  will 
examine  it  more  closely.  In  the  instruction  in  language,  he  begins 
with  lessons  on  sounds ;  these  are  followed  by  lessons  on  words ;  and 
these  again  by  lessons  on  language. 

I.  LESSONS  ON  SOUNDS. — ''The  spelling  book,   (says  Pestalozzi,). 
must  contain  the  entire  range  of  sounds  of  which  the  language  con- 
sists, and  portions  of  it  should  be  repeated  daily  in  every  family,  not 
only  by  the  child  that  is  going  through  the  exercises  to  learn  how  to 
spell,  but  also  by  mothers,  within  hearing  of  the  child  in  the  cradle, 
in  order  that  these  sounds  may,  by  frequent  repetition,  be  so  deeply 
impressed  upon  the  memory  of  the  child,  even  while  it  is  yet  unable 
to  pronounce  a  single  one  of  them,  that  they  shall  never  be  forgotten. 
No  one  imagines  to  what  a  degree  the  attention  of  infants  is  aroused 
by  the  repetition  of  such  simple  sounds  as  ba,  ba,  ba,  da,  da,  da,  ma, 
ma,   ma,  la,  la,  la,  <fec.,  or  what  a  charm   such   repetition   has  for 
them." 

And  so  the  child  in  the  cradle  is  to  have  no  rest  from  elementary 
teaching ;  the  cradle  songs  sung  to  it  are  to  consist  of  such  delightful 
bawling  and  bleating  as  ba,  ba,  ba,  <fec.,  which  might  well  scare  away 
the  child's  guardian  angels. 

As  soon  as  the  child  begins  to  talk,  it  is  to  "repeat  some  sequences 
of  these  sounds  every  day  ;"  then  follow  exercises  in  spelling. 

II.  "LESSONS  IN  WORDS,  or  rather,   LESSONS  IN  NAMES." — Ac- 
cording to  Pestalozzi,   "  all  the   most  important  objects  in  the  world 
are  brought  under  the  notice  of  the  child  in  the  Book  for  Mothers." 

"Lessons  in  names  consist  in  giving  the  children  lists  of  the  names 
of  the  most  important  objects  in  all  three  kingdoms  of  nature,  in  his- 
tory, in  geography,  and  in  the  pursuits  and  relations  of  mankind. 
These  lists  of  words  lire  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  child,  merely  as 
exercises  in  learning  to  read,  immediately  after  he  has  gone  through 
his  spelling  book ;  and  experience  has  shown  me  that  it  is  possible 
to  make  the  children  so  thoroughly  acquainted  with  these  lists  of 
words,  that  they  shall  be  able  to  repeat  them  from  memory,  merely 
in  the  time  that  is  required  to  perfect  them  in  reading :  the  gain  of 
what  at  this  age  is  so  complete  a  knowledge  of  lists  of  names  so  va- 
rious and  comprehensive,  is  immeasurable,  in  facilitating  the  subsequent, 
instruction  of  the  children." 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  ^9 

Here  again  it  is  not  even  remotely  hinted  that  the  children  ought 
to  know  the  things  named ;  words,  mere  words,  are  put  in  the  place 
of  observation. 

3.  LESSONS  IN  LANGUAGE. — The  highest  aim  of  language,  accord- 
ing to  Pestalozzi's  idea,  is  to  lead  us  from  dim  perceptions  to  clear 
notions,  and  that  by  the  following  process  : — 

1.  "We  acquire  a  general  knowledge  of  an  object,  and  name  it  as 
unity,  as  an  object. 

2.  We  gradually  become  conscious  of  its  distinguishing  qualities, 
and  learn  how  to  name  them. 

3.  We  receive  through  language  the  power  of  designating  these- 
qualities   of  the    objects   more   precisely    by   means   of  verbs    and 
adverbs." 

The  first  step  in  this  process  is,  as  we  have  seen,  the  object  of  the 
Pestalozzian  lessons  in  names ;  but,  when  viewed  more  closely,  the 
lessons  are  found  to  consist,  not  in  the  naming  of  objects  arising  out 
of  knowing  them,  but  in  the  names  for  their  own  sake. 

In  reference  to  the  second  operation,  when  Pestalozzi  writes  on  the 
black-board  the  word  "eel,"  and  adds  the  qualities,  "slippery,  worm- 
shaped,  thick-skinned,"  the  children  by  no  means  become  conscious 
of  the  distinguishing  qualities  of  an  eel,  and  learn  to  name  them,, 
through  observing  an  eel ;  they  rather  get  adjectives  to  the  noun 
"eel."  Of  the  process  by  which  these  adjectives  arise  from  the  obser- 
vation of  the  qualities  which  they  express,  there  is  again  nothing  said. 

This  neglect  of  observation  is  still  more  striking,  when  Pestalozzi, 
further  on,  classifies  what  is  to  be  learned  under  the  following  heads : 

1.  Geography.  3.  Physics.  5.  Physiology. 

2.  History.  4.  Natural  History. 

Each  of  these  five  heads  he  divides  again  into  forty  subdivisions,  so 
that  he  makes  two  hundred  subdivisions.  He  now  proceeds  to  give 
lists  of  words  in  all  these  subjects  in  alphabetical  order,  which 
lists  are  to  be  impressed  upon  the  childrens'  memories,  "till  it  is  im- 
possible they  should  be  forgotten."  Afterward,  this  alphabetical 
nomenclature  is  to  be  transformed  into  a  "scientific"  one.  "I  do  not 
know,  (says  Pestalozzi.)  whether  it  is  necessary  to  illustrate  the  matter 
further  by  an  example ;  it  appears  to  me  almost  superfluous :  never- 
theless, I  will  do  so,  on  account  of  the  novelty  of  form.  E.  G.  One 
of  the  subdivisions  of  Europe  is  Germany :  the  child  is  first  of  all 
made  well  acquainted  with  the  division  of  Germany  into  ten  circles, 
BO  that  he  shall  not  be  able  to  forget  it;  then  the  names  of  the  towns 
of  Germany  are  placed  before  him,  at  first  in  mere  alphabetical  order 
for  him  to  read,  but  each  of  these  towns  is  previously  marked  with. 


80  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZ1. 

the  number  of  the  circle  in  which  it  lies.  As  soon  as  the  child  can 
read  the  names  of  the  towns  fluently,  he  is  taught  the  connection  of 
the  numbers  with  the  subdivisions  of  the  main  heads,  and  in  a  few 
hours  he  is  able  to  determine  the  place  of  the  entire  number  of  Ger- 
man towns  in  these  subdivisions.  For  example,  suppose  the  names 
of  the  following  places  in  Germany  are  set  before  him,  marked  by 
numbers : — 


Aachan,  (Aix-la-Cha- 
pelle,)  8. 
Aalen,  3. 
Abenberg,  4. 
Aberthan,  11. 
Acken,  10. 
Adersbach,  11. 
Agler,  1. 
Ahrbergen,  10. 
Aigremont,  8. 
Ala,  1. 

Allenbach,  5. 
Allendorf.  5. 
Allersperg,  2. 
Alschaufen,  3. 
Alsleben,  10. 
Altbunzlau,  11. 
Altena,  8. 
Altenau,  10. 
Altenberg,  9. 
Altenburg,  9. 

Altensalza,  10. 
Altkirchen,  8. 
Altona,  10. 
Altorf,  1. 
Altranstadt,  9. 
Altwasser,  13. 
Alkerdissen,  8. 
Amberg,  2. 
Ambras,  1. 
Amoneburg,  6. 
Andernach,  6. 

He  reads  them  all  in  the  following  manner : — 

Aachen  lies  in  the  Westphalian  circle ; 

Abenberg  in  the  Franconian  circle ; 

Acken  in  the  Lower  Saxony  circle ;  and  so  on. 

In  this  manner  the  child  is  evidently  enabled,  at  first  sight  of  the 
number  or  mark  referring  to  the  subdivisions  of  the  main  head,  to 
determine  the  place  of  each  word  of  the  list  in  the  scientific  classifi- 
cation of  the  subject,  and  thus,  as  I  before  said,  to  change  the  alpha- 
betical into  a  scientific  nomenclature." 

It  is  quite  unnecessary  to  give  a  refutation  of  these  views.* 

Further  on  in  the  book,  there  follow  some  directions  "how  to  ex- 
plain more  fully  to  the  pupil  the  nature,  qualities,  and  functions  of  all 
the  objects  with  which  the  lessons  in  names  have  made  him  ac- 
quainted, and  which  have  already  been  explained  to  him,  to  a  certain 
extent,  by  placing  their  qualities  side  by  side  with  their  names."  For 
this  purpose,  the  mother  is  to  read  to  the  child  certain  sentences,  and 
the  child  is  to  repeat  them  after  her.  Many  of  these  sentences  would 
be  quite  unintelligible  to  a  child ;  for  instance,  "  The  creditor  desires 
payment,"  "  The  right  must  be  maintained."  They  are  mere  exercises 
in  reading,  not  based  in  the  slightest  degree  on  observation. 

We  have  seen  that  Pestalozzi  fixed  his  attention  chiefly  on  the 
principle  that  instruction  must  be  based  on  observation,  out  of  which 
the  clear  idea  is  at  last  developed.  He  says  that  we  are  dazzled  by 
the  charm  of  a  language,  "which  we  speak  without  having  any  real 

*  Observe,  too,  how  Pestalozzi  has  taken  the  names  of  any  obscure  places  that  occurred 
to  him  at  the  moment,  such  as  Aberthan,  Ala,  &c.  Out  of  the  31  places  whose  names  are 
Itiven,  five  at  most  would  deserve  to  be  included  in  a  school  geography.  Not  a  word  is  said 
ibout  maps. 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  8J 

•knowledge  of  the  ideas  conveyed  by  the  words  which  we  allow  to  run 
through  our  mouths.''  He  combats  "all  scientific  teaching  which  is 
analyzed,  explained,  and  dictated  by  men  who  have  not  learnt  to 
think  and  speak  in  harmony  with  the  laws  of  nature,"  whose  "  defi- 
nitions must  be  conjured  into  the  soul  like  a  deus  ex  machind,  or 
must  be  blown  into  the  ears  as  by  stage-prompters ;"  the  effect  of 
which  is  that  men  "  sink  into  a  miserable  mode  of  education,  fit  only  for 
forming  piay-actors."  He  speaks  with  great  warmth  against  "defini- 
tions not  founded  on  observation."  "  A  definition,  (he  says,)  is  the 
simplest  expression  of  clear  ideas,  but  for  the  child  it  contains  truth 
only  in  so  far  as  he  has  a  clear  and  comprehensive  view  of  the 
groundwork  of  observation  on  which  these  ideas  are  based ;  whenever 
he  is  left  without  the  greatest  clearness  in  the  observation  of  a  natural 
object  which  has  been  defined  to  him,  he  only  learns  to  play  with 
words  like  so  many  counters,  deceives  himself,  and  places  a  blind  be- 
lief in  sounds  which  will  convey  to  him  no  idea,  nor  give  rise  to  any 
other  thought,  except  just  this,  that  he  has  uttered  certain  sounds.* 
ffinc  illce  lacrymce. 

These  excellent  principles  can  not  receive  too  much  attention ;  but 
if  Pestalozzi's  own  method  of  instruction  be  squared  by  them,  it  will 
be  found  to  run  quite  counter  to  them.  He  begins,  not  with  obser- 
vations, but  with  words;  with  him,  substantives  stand  in  the  plac'e 
of  the  observation  of  objects,  adjectives  in  the  place  of  the  observa- 
tion of  the  properties  of  objects.  His  polemic  against  empty  word-  ^ 
wisdom  hits  therefore  his  own  method  of  instruction.  Fichte  says 
very  truly  in  regard  to  Pestalozzi's  idea :  "  In  the  field  of  objective 
knowledge,  which  relates  to  external  objects,  the  acquaintance  with 
the  literal  sign  that  represents  the  clearness  and  definiteness  of  the 
knowledge,  adds  nothing  whatever  for  the  student  himself;  it  only 
heightens  the  value  of  the  knowledge  with  reference,  to  its  communi- 
cation to  others,  which  is  a  totally  different  matter.  The  clearness 
of  such  knowledge  can  result  only  from  observation,  and  that  which 
we  can  at  pleasure  reproduce  in  all  its  parts,  just  as  it  really  is,  in  the 
imagination,  is  perfectly  known,  whether  we  have  a  word  for  it  or  not. 

We  are  even   of  the  opinion  that  this  perfection   of  observation 

*  Pestalozzi  also  shows  briefly  and  truly  that  none  but  those  who  have  a  thorough  knowl- 
edge of  a  subject  can  possibly  give  a  real  explanation  of  it  in  words.  "  If  I  have  not  a  clear 
perception  of  a  thing,"  he  says,  "I  can  not  say  with  certainty  what,  its  attributes  are,  much 
less  what  it  is ;  I  can  not  even  describe  it,  much  less  define  it.  If  then  a  third  person  puts 
into  my  mouth  the  words  by  means  of  which  some  other  person,  who  had  a  clear  concep- 
tion of  the  thing,  makes  it  intelligible  to  people  of  his  own  stamp,  it  is  not  on  this  account 
any  clearer  to  me  ;  but  it  is  clear  to  the  other  person  and  not  to  me  so  long  as  the  words  of 
this  person  are  not  for  me  what  they  are  for  him-  the  definite  expression  of  the  full 
clearness  of  an  idea." 

6 


82  L1FE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

should  precede  the  acquaintance  with  the  literal  sign,  and  that  the 
opposite  way  leads  directly  to  that  world  of  fog  and  shadows,  and  to- 
that  early  use  of  the  tongue,  both  of  which  are  so  justly  hateful  to 
Pestalozzi ;  nay  even',  that  he  who  is  only  concerned  to  know  the  word 
at  the  earliest  possible  moment,  and  who  deems  his  knowledge  com- 
plete so  soon  as  he  knows  it,  lives  precisely  in  that  world  of  fog,  and 
is  only  concerned  for  its  extension." 

We  should  have  expected  from  Pestalozzi  some  directions,  first,  how 
to  exercise  the  senses  of  children,  and  cultivate  in  them  the  power  of 
rapidly  arriving  at  clear  conceptions  of  objects ;  second,  how  we  should 
teach  them  to  express  in  language  the  impressions  of  their  senses — to 
translate  their  mute  observations  into  words. 

But  Pestalozzi  does  give  some  hints,  particularly  as  to  the  method 
in  which  instruction  in  natural  history  should  be  imparted.  We  must 
not  allow  the  child  to  go  into  the  woods  and  meadows,  in  order  to 
become  acquainted  with  trees  and  plants.  "  Trees  and  plants,  (he 
says,)  do  not  there  stand  in  the  order  best  adapted  to  make  the 
character  of  each  class  apparent,  and  to  prepare  the  mind  by  the  first 
impressions  of  the  objects  for  a  general  acquaintance  with  this  de- 
partment of  science.  It  would  make  me  too  far  away  from  my  pur- 
.^  ,  pose,  were  I  to  refute  this  excessive  pedantry  of  method,  (with  the 
best  will  in  the  world,  I  can  find  no  better  word  for  it,)  against  which 
every  mind  that  has  any  degree  of  freshness,  and  is  alive  to  the 
beauties  of  nature,  will  at  once  rise  up  in  condemnation. 

But,  though  nothing  further  is  said,  in  the  work  before  us,  on  the 
education  of  the  senses,  and  the  instruction  in  language  connected 
therewith,  Pestalozzi  refers  us  to  his  "  Book  for  Mothers,"  for  more 
on  these  points.  His  principle,  that  the  learning  of  a  child  must  com- 
mence with  what  lies  near  to  it,  appears  to  have  led  him  to  the  idea, 
that  no  natural  object  lay  nearer  to  a  child  than  its  own  body,  and 
that  therefore  it  should  commence  by  observing  that.  The  Book  for 
Mothers  describes  the  body,  with  all  its  limbs  and  parts  of  limbs, 
down  to  the  minutest  joints.  Few  persons,  (I  do  not  speak  of  sur- 
geons,) are  so  well  acquainted  with  the  structure  of  the  body  as  the 
child  is  to  be  made.  Few  people  will  understand,  for  instance,  the 
following  description :  "  The  middle  bones  of  the  index  finger  are 
placed  outside,  on  the  middle  joints  of  the  index  finger,  between  the 
back  and  middle  members  of  the  index  finger,"  &c.  The  mother  is 
to  go  through  the  book,  word  for  word,  with  the  child,  making 
constant  reference  to  the  child's  own  body. 

It  was  a  great  mistake  on  the  part  of  Pestalozzi,  to  select  the 
child's  body  as  the  first  object  on  which  it  should  exercise  its  faculties 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  Q3 

of  sight  and  speech,  and,  generally,  the  so-called  exercises  in  observa- 
tion employed  by  Pestalozzi  and  his  school,  ought  properly  to  be  re- 
garded as  exercises  in  reading,  in  which  the  object  is  far  more  to 
make  the  children  acquainted  with  words  and  sentences  than  to  give 
them  distinct  and  lasting  impressions,  and  a  real  knowledge  of  the 
thing  spoken  of.  He  who  yesterday  saw  a  man,  with  whose  image 
he  was  so  strongly  impressed  that  he  can  to-day  depict  it  from  his 
inward  conception — he  who  to-day  can  correctly  sing  from  memory 
a  melody  which  he  heard  yesterday — he  who  yesterday  smelt  vine- 
gar, and  to-day  feels  the  water  gather  in  his  mouth  at  the  recollection 
of  the  smell — gives  proof  of  his  observation  by  the  conception 
which  he  has  formed,  even  though  he  does  not  translate  that  concep- 
tion into  words.  The  generality  of  the  exercises  of  Pestalozzi  and 
his  followers  never  produced  such  an  imagination  of  perceptions  as 
this. 

Toward  the  conclusion  of  the  work,  Pestalozzi  asks  himself:  "How 
does  the  question  of  religion  stand  with  relation  to  the  principles, 
which  I  have  adopted  as  true  in  regard  to  the  development  of  the 
human  race  in  general  ?" 

It  is  difficult  to  follow  him  in  his  answer  to  this  question.  Every 
thing  that  is  lofty  in  man  is  founded,  according  to  him,  in  the  rela- 
tionship which  subsists  between  the  infant  and  its  mother.  The  feel- 
ings of  gratitude,  confidence  and  love  in  the  child  toward  the  mother 
gradually  unfold  themselves,  and  are,  at  a  later  period,  transferred  by 
the  child,  on  the  admonition  of  the  mother,  to  God.  This,  with  >- 
Pestalozzi,  is  the  only  way  of  training  the  child  in  religion.  It  pre- 
supposes a  mother  pure  as  an  angel,  and  a  child  originally  quite  in- 
nocent. The  mother  is  also,  like  a  saint,  to  take  the  child  under  her 
wings,  when  it  grows  up  and  is  enticed  to  evil  by  the  world,  which  is 
not  innocent,  "as  God  first  created  it."  According  to  this  view, 
motherless  orphans  must  remain  entirely  without  religious  training. 
There  is  scarcely  a  word  about  the  father ;  just  once  he  is  mentioned, 
and  then  it  is  said  that  he  is  "  tied  to  his  workshop,"  and  can  not  give 
up  his  time  to  the  child. 

In  short,  the  mother  is  represented  as  the  mediator  between  God 
and  the  child.  But  not  once  is  it  mentioned  that  she  herself  needs  a 
mediator ;  not  once  in  the  whole  book  does  the  name  of  Christ  occur. 
It  is  nowhere  said  that  the  mother  is  a  Christian  mother,  a  member 
of  the  church,  and  that  she  teaches  the  child  what  she,  as  a  member 
of  the  church,  has  learnt.  Holy  writ  is  ignored  ;  the  mother  draws 
her  theology  out  of  her  own  heart.  There  pervades  this  work  there- 
fore a  decided  alienation  from  Christ.  But  we  shall  afterward  see. 


Q4  LIFE  Ai\D  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTKM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

tliat  it  would  be  unjust  to  measure  Pestalozzi's  ideas  on  religious  in- 
struction by  the  untenable  theory  brought  forward  in  the  last  chapters 
of  this  work. 

Having  thus  considered  the  contents  of  this  book,  which  was  writ- 
ten and  had  its  origin  in  Burgdorf,  which  contains  fundamental  edu- 
cational principles  of  the  highest  value  and  importance,  side  by  side 
with  the  most  glaring  educational  blunders  and  absurdities,  it  will  be 
of  the  greatest  interest  to  hear  how  Pestalozzi  performed  his  work  as 
a  teacher,  and  as  the  director  of  his  institution,  in  Burgdorf.  We 
shall  obtain  information  on  this  point  from  a  small  but  in  many 
respects  highly  interesting  and  valuable  pamphlet,  entitled  "A  Short 
Sketch  of  my  Educational  Life,  by  John  Ramsauer."*  The  writer, 
who  was  the  son  of  a  tradesman,  and  was  born  in  1790  at  Herissu  in 
the  Swiss  canton  of  Appenzell,  migrated  thence  in  1800,  along  with 
forty-four  other  children  from  ten  to  fourteen  years  of  age,  at  a  time 
when  several  cantons,  Appenzell  among  the  rest,  had  "been  totally 
desolated  in  consequence  of  the  French  revolution  ;  and  he  came 
thus  to  Schleumen,  not  far  from  Burgdorf.  While  at  Schleuraen,  he 
attended  the  lower  burgh  school  of  Burgdorf,  in  which,  as  already 
stated,  Pestalozzi  taught.  He  gives  the  following  account  of  Pesta- 
lozzi's teaching : — 

"  I  got  about  as  much  regular  schooling  as  the  other  scholars,  namely,  none 
at  all  f  but  his,  (Pestalozzi's,)  sacred  zeal,  his  devoted  love,  which  caused  him 
to  be  entirely  unmindful  of  himself,  his  serious  and  depressed  state  of  mind, 
which  struck  even  the  children,  made  the  deepest  impression  on  me,  and  knit 
my  childlike  and  grateful  heart  to  his  forever. 

It  is  impossible  to  give  a  clear  picture  of  this  school  as  a  whole ;  ah1  that  I 
can  do  is  to  sketch  a  few  partial  views. 

Pestalozzi's  intention  was  that  all  the  instruction  given  in  this  school  should 
start  from  form,  number,  and  language,  and  should  have  a  constant  refer- 
ence to  these  elements.  There  was  no  regular  plan  hi  existence,  neither  was 
there  a  time-table,  for  which  reason  Pestalozzi  did  not  tie  himself  down  to  any 
particular  hours,  but  generally  went  on  with  the  same  subject  for  two  or  three 
hours  together.  There  were  about  sixty  of  us,  boys  and  girls,  of  ages  varying 
from  eight  to  fifteen  years;  the  school-hours  were  from  8  till  11  in  the  morning, 
and  from  2  to  4  in  the  afternoon.  The  instruction  which  we  received  was  en- 
tirely limited  to  drawing,  ciphering,  and  exercises  in  language.  We  neither 
read  nor  wrote,  and  accordingly  we  had  neither  reading  nor  writing  books ;  nor 
were  we  required  to  commit  to  memory  any  thing  secular  or  sacred. 

For  the  drawing,  we  had  neither  copies  to  draw  from  nor  directions  what  to 
draw,  but  only  crayons  and  boards ;  and  we  were  told  to  draw  "  what  we 
liked  "  during  the  tune  that  Pestalozzi  was  reading  aloud  sentences  about  natural 
history,  (as  exercises  in  language.)  But  we  did  not  know  what  to  draw,  and 
so  it  happened  that  some  drew  men  and  women,  some  houses,  and  others  strings, 
knots,  arabesques,  or  whatever  else  came  into  their  heads.  Pestalozzi  never 
looked  to  see  what  we  had  drawn,  or  rather  scribbled ;  but  the  clothes  of  all  the 
scholars,  especially  the  sleeves  and  elbows,  gave  unmistakable  evidence  that 
they  had  been  making  due  use  of  their  crayons. 

For  the    ciphering,    we  had    between  every  two   scholars  a  small  table 

*  When  Pestalozzi  himself  speaks  of  his  teaching,  he  is  too  apt  to  mix  up  what  he  intended 
•with  what  he  really  effected. 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  §5 

nasted  on  mill-board,  on  which  in  quadrangular  fields  were  marked  dots,  which 
we  had  to  count,  to  add  together,  to  subtract,  to  multiply,  and  divide  by  one 
another.  It  was  out  of  these  exercises  that  Kriisi  and  Buss  constructed,  first, 
the  Unity  Table,  and  afterward  the  Fraction  Tables.  But,  as  Pestalozzi  only 
allowed  the  scholars  to  go  over  and  to  repeat  the  exercises  in  their  turns,  and 
never  questioned  them  nor  set  them  tasks,  these  exercises,  which  were  other- 
wise very  good,  remained  without  any  great  utility.  He  had  not  sufficient  pa- 
tience to  allow  things  to  be  gone  over  again,  or  to  put  questions ;  and  in  his 
enormous  zeal  for  the  instruction  of  the  whole  school,  he  seemed  not  to  concern 
himself  in  the  slightest  degree  for  the  individual  scholar. 

The  best  things  we  had  with  him  were  the  exercises  in  language,  at  least 
those  which  he  gave  us  on  the  paper-hangings  of  the  school-room,  and  which 
were  real  exercises  in  observation.  These  hangings  were  very  old  and  a  good 
deal  torn,  and  before  these  we  had  frequently  to  stand  for  two  or  three  hours 
together,  and  say  what  we  observed  in  respect  to  the  form,  number,  position 
and  color  of  the  figures  painted  on  them,  and  the  holes  torn  in  them,  and  to 
express  what  we  observed  in  sentences  gradually  increasing  in  length.  On 
such  occasions,  he  would  say:  "Boys,  what  do  you  see?"  (He  never  named 
the  girls.) 

Answer.  A  hole,  (or  rent,)  in  the  wainscoat. 
Pestalozzi.  Very  good.     Now  repeat  after  me : — 

I  see  a  hole  in  the  wainscoat. 

I  see  a  long  hole  in  the  wainscoat. 

Through  the  hole  I  see  the  wall. 

Through  the  long  narrow  hole  I  see  the  wall 
Pestalozzi.  Repeat  after  me : — 

I  see  figures  on  the  paper-hangings. 

I  see  black  figures  on  the  paper-hangings. 

I  see  round  black  figures  on  the  paper-hangings. 

I  see  a  square  yellow  figure  on  the  paper-hangings. 

Besides  the  square  yellow  figure,  I  see  a  black  round  figure. 

The  square  figure  is  joined  to  the  round  one  by  a  thick  black  stroke. 
And  so  on. 

Of  less  utility  were  those  exercises  in  language  which  he  took  from  natural 
history,  and  in  which  we  had  to  repeat  after  him,  and  at  the  same  time  to  draw, 
as  I  have  already  mentioned.  He  would  say : — 

Amphibious  animals.  Crawling  amphibious  animals. 

Creeping  amphibious  animals. 

Monkeys.  Long-tailed  monkeys. 

Short-tailed  monkeys. 
And  so  on. 

We  did  not  understand  a  word  of  this,  for  not  a  word  was  explained,  and  it 
was  all  spoken  hi  such  a  sing-song  tone,  and  so  rapidly  and  indistinctly,  that  it 
would  have  been  a  wonder  if  any  one  had  understood  any  thing  of  it,  and  had 
learnt  any  thing  from  it ;  besides,  Pestalozzi  cried  out  so  dreadfully  loud  and  so 
continuously,  that  he  could  not  hear  us  repeat  after  him,  the  less  so  as  he  never 
waited  for  us  when  he  had  read  out  a  sentence,  but  went  on  without  intermis- 
sion and  read  off  a  whole  page  at  once.  What  he  thus  read  out  was  drawn  up 
on  a  hdlf-sheet  of  large-sized  mill-board,  and  our  repetition  consisted  for  the 
most  part  in  saying  the  last  word  or  syllable  of  each  phrase,  thus  "  monkeys — mon- 
keys," or  "keys — keys."  There  was  never  any  questioning  or  recapitulation. 

As  Pestalozzi  in  his  zeal,  did  not  tie  himself  to  any  particular  time,  we  gene- 
rally went  on  till  eleven  o'clock  with  whatever  he  had  commenced  at  eight,  and 
by  ten  o'clock  he  was  always  tired  and  hoarse.  We  knew  when  it  was  eleven 
by  the  noise  of  other  school  children  in  the  street,  and  then  usually  we  all  ran 
out  without  bidding  good-bye. 

Although  Pestalozzi  had  at  all  times  strictly  prohibited  his  assistants  from 
using  any  kind  of  corporal  punishment,  yet  he  by  no  means  dispensed  with  it 
himself,  but  very  often  dealt  out  boxes  on  the  ears  right  and  left.  But  most  of 
the  scholars  rendered  his  life  very  unhappy,  so  much  so  that  I  felt  a  real  sym- 
pathy for  him,  and  kept  myself  all  the  more  quiet.  This  he  soon  observed,  and 
many  a  time  he  took  me  for  a  walk  at  eleven  o'clock,  for  in  fine  weather  he 
went  every  day  to  the  banks  of  the  river  Emme,  and  for  recreation  and  amuse- 
ment looked  for  different  kinds  of  stones.  I  had  to  take  part  in  this  occupation 


$6  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI 

myself,  although  it  appeared  to  me  a  strange  one,  seeing  that  millions  of  stones 
lay  there,  and  I  did  not  know  which  to  search  for.  He  himself  was  acquainted 
with  only  a  few  kinds,  but  nevertheless  he  dragged  along  home  from  this  place 
•every  day  with  his  pocket  and  his  pocket  handkerchief  full  of  stones,  though 
after  they  were  deposited  at  home,  they  were  never  looked  at  again.  He  re- 
tained this  fancy  throughout  his  life.  It  was  not  an  easy  thing  to  find  a  single 
entire  pocket  handkerchief  in  the  whole  of  the  institution  at  Burgdorf,  for  all 
•of  them  had  been  torn  with  carrying  stones. 

There  is  one  thing  which,  though  indeed  unimportant,  I  must  not  forget  to 
mention.  The  first  time  that  I  was  taken  in  to  Pestalozzi's  school  he  cordially 
welcomed  and  kissed  me,  then  he  quickly  assigned  me  a  place,  and  the  whole 
morning  did  not  speak  another  word  to  me,  but  kept  on  reading  out  sentences 
without  halting  for  a  moment.  As  I  did  not  understand  a  bit  of  what  \\  as 
.going  on,  when  I  heard  the  word  "monkey,  monkey,"  come  every  time  at  the 
end  of  a  sentence,  and  as  Pestalozzi,  who  was  very  ugly,  ran  about  the  room 
-as  though  he  was  wild,  without  a  coat  and  without  a  neck-cloth,  his  long  shirt- 
sleeves hanging  down  over  his  arms  and  hands,  which  swung  negligently  about, 
I  was  seized  with  real  terror,  and  might  soon  have  believed  that  he  "himself 
was  a  monkey.  During  the  first  few  days  too,  I  was  all  the  more  afraid  of  him, 
as  he  had,  on  my  arrival,  given  me  a  kiss  with  his  strong,  prickly  beard,  the 
first  kiss  which  I  remembered  having  received  in  my  life. 

Ramsauer  does  not  relate  so  much  about  the  instruction  given  by 
the  other  teachers.  Among  the  fruits  of  their  instruction  were  two 
of  the  three  elementary  works  which  appeared  in  1803,  under  Pesta- 
lozzi's name:  (1.)  "The  ABC  of  Observation,  or  Lessons  on  the 
Relations  of  Size,"  (2.)  "Lessons  on  the  Relations  of  Number."  (3.) 
The  third  elementary  work  alone  was  written  by  Pestalozzi  himself; 
it  is  the  one  already  mentioned,  the  "Book  for  Mothers,  or  Guide 
for  Mothers  in  teaching  their  children  to  observe  and  speak." 

The  institution  at  Burgdorf  attracted  more  and  more  notice ;  people 
came  from  a  distance  to  visit  it,  induced  particularly  by  Pestalozzi's 
work,  "  How  Gertrude  teaches  her  children."  M.  Decan  Ith,  who  was 
sent  by  the  Helvetian  government  in  1802,  to  examine  the  institution, 
made  a  very  favorable  report  on  it,  in  consequence  of  which  the 
government  recognized  it  as  a  public  institution,  and  granted  small 
salaries  to  the  teachers  out  of  the  public  funds. 

But  that  government  was  dissolved  by  Napoleon  the  very  next 
year,  and  the  constitution  of  the  cantons  restored.  The  Bernese 
government  now  fixed  on  the  castle  of  Burgdorf,  as  the  seat  of  one 
.of  the  chief  magistrates  of  the  canton ;  and  Pestalozzi  had  to  clear 
out  of  it,  on  the  22d  of  August,  1804. 

In  1802,  during  Pestalozzi's  stay  at  Burgdorf,  Napoleon  required 
the  Swiss  people  to  send  a  deputation  to  him  at  Paris.  Two  districts 
chose  Pestalozzi  as  a  deputy.  Before  his  departure,  he  published  a 
pamphlet,  entitled  "  Views  on  the  Objects  to  which  the  Legislature 
of  Helvetia  has  to  direct  its  attention."  He  put  a  memorandum  on 
the  wants  of  Switzerland  into  the  hands  of  the  First  Consul,  who 
paid  as  little  attention  to  it  as  he  did  to  Pestalozzi's  educational 
efforts,  declaring  that  he  could  not  mix  himself  up  with  the  teach' og 
of  the  ABC. 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  3*7 

The  Bernese  government  gave  up  the  monastery  of  Buchsee  to 
Pestalozzi  for  his  institution,  and  had  the  building  properly  arranged 
for  him.  Close  by  Buchsee  lies  the  estate  of  Hofwyl,  where  Fellen- 
berg  resided,  and  to  whom  the  teachers  gave  the  principal  direction  of 
the  institution,  "not  without  my  consent,"  says  Pestalozzi,  "but  to 
my  profound  mortification." 

Notwithstanding,  Pestalozzi  allows  Fellenberg  to  have  possessed  in 
a  high  degree  the  talent  of  governing.  In  Fellenberg  the  intellect 
predominated,  as  in  Pestalozzi  the  feelings ;  in  the  institution  at 
Buchsee,  therefore,  "  that  love  and  warmth  was  missing  which,  inspir- 
ing all  who  came  within  its  influence,  rendered  every  one  at  Burg- 
dorf  so  happy  and  cheerful :  at  Buchsee  every  thing  was,  in  this 
respect,  totally  different.  Still  Buchsee  had  this  advantage,  that  in  it 
more  order  prevailed,  and  more  was  learned  than  at  Burgdorf." 

Pestalozzi  perceived  that  his  institution  would  not  become  inde- 
pendent of  Fellenberg,  so  long  as  it  should  remain  at  Buchsee,  and 
he  gladly  accepted,  therefore,  a  highly  advantageous  proposal  on  the 
part  of  the  inhabitants  of  Yverdun,  that  he  should  remove  his  insti- 
tution to  their  town.  He  repaired  thither,  with  some  of  his  teachers 
and  eight  pupils ;  half  a  year  later,  the  remaining  teachers  followed, 
having,  as  Pestalozzi  remarks,  soon  found  the  government  of  Fellen- 
berg far  more  distasteful  than  the  want  of  government,  under  him, 
had  ever  been  to  them. 

We  now  enter  on  a  period  when  Pestalozzi  and  his  institution  ac- 
quired a  European  reputation,  when  Pestalozzian  teachers  had  schools 
in  Madrid,  Naples,  and  St.  Petersburg,  when  the  emperor  of  Russia 
gave  the  venerable  old  man  a  personal  proof  of  his  favor  and  esteem, 
and  when  Fichte  saw  in  Pestalozzi  and  his  labors  the  commencement 
of  a  renovation  of  humanity. 

But  to  write  the  history  of  this  period  is  a  task  of  unusual  difficul- 
ty. On  one  side  stand  extravagant  admirers  of  Pestalozzi,  on  the  oth- 
er bitter  censurers ;  a  closer  examination  shows  us  that  both  are 
right,  and  both  wrong.  A  fearful  dissension  arises,  in  the  institution 
itself,  among  the  teachers ;  at  the  head  of  the  two  parties  stand 
Niederer  and  Schmid,  who  abuse  each  other  in  a  manner  unheard  of. 
With  which  party  shall  we  side  ;  or  shall  we  side  with  neither,  or 
with  both  ? 

If  we  ask  to  which  party  Pestalozzi  inclined,  or  whether  he  held 
himself  above  the  parties,  and  then  go  entirely  according  to  his  judg- 
ment, our  embarrassment  will  only  be  increased.  He  pronounced  a 
very  different  opinion  on  the  same  man  at  different  times  :  at  one  time 
be  saw  in  him  a  helping  angel,  before  whom  he  humbled  himself 


88  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

more  than  was  seemly,  and  from  whom  he  expected  every  benefit  to 
his  institution  ;  at  another  time,  he  saw  in  him  an  almost  fiendish 
being,  who  was  only  bent  on  ruining  the  institution. 

If  any  fancy  that  they  have  a  sure  source  of  information  in  the 
account  drawn  up  by  Pestalozzi  and  Nieder,  and  published  in  1807, 
namely,  the  "  Report  on  the  State  of  the  Pestalozzian  Institution,  ad- 
dressed to  the  Parents  of  the  Pupils  and  to  the  Public ;"  they  will  be 
undeceived  by  some  remarks  which  Pestalozzi  himself  added  to  that 
report  at  a  later  period,  in  the  collected  edition  of  his  works,  but  still 
more  so  in,  u  The  Fortunes  of  my  Life."  This  work  is  altogether  at 
variance  with  those  which  give  a  high  degree  of  praise  to  the  Pesta- 
lozzian Institution,  in  its  former  condition.  From  the  year  in  which 
the  dispute  between  Niederer  and  Schmid,  broke  out,  (1810,)  most 
of  those  who  give  any  information  on  the  subject  range  themselves  on 
Niederer's  side  ;  while  Pestalozzi  himself,  from  the  year  1815  till  his 
death,  holds  unchangeably  with  Schmid. 

I  should  despair  of  ever  being  able  to  thread  my  way  in  this  laby- 
rinth with  any  degree  of  certainty,  were  it  not  for  the  fact  that  I  re- 
sided some  time  in  the  institution,  namely,  from  October,  1809,  till  May» 
1810,  and  there  became  more  intimately  acquainted  with  persons  and 
circumstances  than  I  could  otherwise  have  been. 

A  friend,  (Rudolph  von  Przystanowski,)  accompanied  me  to  Yver- 
dun,  where  we  arrived  toward  the  end  of  October.  It  was  in  the 
evening  of  a  cold  rainy  day  that  we  alighted  at  the  hotel  called  the- 
Red  House.  The  next  morning  we  went  to  the  old  castle,  built  by 
Charles  the  Bold,  which  with  its  four  great  round  towers  incloses 
a  courtyard.  Here  we  met  a  multitude  of  boys  ;  we  were  conducted 
to  Pestalozzi.  He  was  dressed  in  the  most  negligent  manner :  he 
had  on  an  old  grey  overcoat,  no  waistcoat,  a  pair  of  breeches,  and 
stockings  hanging  down  over  his  slippers  ;  his  coarse  bushy  black  hair 
uncombed  and  frightful.  His  brow  was  deeply  furrowed,  his  dark 
brown  eyes  were  now  soft  and  mild,  now  full  of  fire.  You  hardly 
noticed  that  the  old  man,  so  full  of  geniality,  was  ugly  ;  you  read  in 
his  singular  features  long  continued  suffering  and  great  hopes. 

Soon  after,  we  saw  Niederer,*  who  gave  me  the  impression  of  a 
young  Roman  Catholic  priest ;  Kriisi,*  who  was  somewhat  corpu- 
lent, fair,  blue-eyed,  mild  and  benevolent ;  and  Schmid,*  who  was,  if 
possible,  more  cynical  in  his  dress  than  Pestalozzi,  with  sharp  features 
and  eyes  like  those  of  a  bird  of  prey. 

At  that  time  137  pupils,  of  ages  varying  from  six  to  seventeen 

*  A  biographical  sketch  of  Niederer,  Kriisi,  and  Schmid,  will  be  given  at  the  close  of  th» 
life  of  Pestalozzi.— ED. 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEiM  OF  PfcSTALOZZI.  gg, 

years,  lived  in  the  institution ;  28  lodged  in  the  town,  but  dined  in 
the  institution.  There  were  in  all,  therefore,  165  pupils.  Among 
them  there  were  78  Swiss  ;  the  rest  were  Germans,  French,  Russians, 
Italians,  Spaniards,  and  Americans.  Fifteen  teachers  resided  in  the 
institution,  nine  of  whom  were  Swiss  teachers,  who  had  been  educated 
there.  Besides  these,  there  were  32  persons  who  were  studying  the 
method  :  seven  of  them  were  natives  of  Switzerland.  The  interior 
of  the  building  made  a  mournful  impression  on  me  ;  but  the  situation 
was  extremely  beautiful.  An  extensive  meadow  separates  it  from  the 
southern  end  of  the  glorious  lake  of  Neufchatel,  on  the  west  side  of 
which  rises  the  Jura,  range  of  mountains,  covered  with  vineyards. 
From  the  heights  of  the  Jura,  above  the  village  of  Granson,  rendered 
famous  by  the  defeat  of  Charles  the  Bold,  you  survey  on  the  one 
side  the  entire  chain  of  the  Alps,  from  Mount  Pilatus,  near  Lucerne, 
to  Mount  Blanc  ;  on  the  other  side  you  see  far  away  into  France. 

A  short  time  after  my  arrival,  I  went  to  live  in  the  institution, 
where  I  took  my  meals,  and  slept  along  with  the  children.  If  I 
wanted  to  do  any  work  for  myself,  I  had  to  do  it  while  standing  at  a 
writing  desk  in  the  midst  of  the  tumult  of  one  of  the  classes.  None 
of  the  teachers  had  a  sitting-room  to  himself.  I  was  fully  determined 
to  devote  all  my  energies  thenceforth  to  the  institution,  and  accord- 
ingly I  had  brought  with  me  Freddy  Reichardt,  the  brother  of  my 
future  wife,  a  boy  of  eight  years,  and  now  placed  him  among  the 
other  scholars.  My  position  was  well  suited  to  enable  me  to  compare 
the  reports  on  the  institution  with  what  I  daily  saw  and  experienced. 
The  higher  my  expectations  had  been  raised  by  that  report,  the  deep- 
er was  my  pain,  as  I  was  gradually  undeceived  ;  I  even  thought  I  saw 
the  last  hopes  of  my  native  land  disappear. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  for  me  to  particularize  the  respects  in  which 
I  was  undeceived  ;  they  may  be  learnt  from  Pestalozzi's  notes  to  the 
latter  copy  of  his  report,  but  especially  from  his  work,  "The  Fortunes 
of  my  Life."  Nevertheless  I  will  advert  to  one  or  two  principal 
points. 

I  will  particularly  advert  to  what  is  said  in  the  report  about  tl ' 
spirit  of  the  institution,  which  is  represented  as  being  similar  to  thao 
which  pervades  a  family. 

"  We  may  with  a  good  conscience,  declare  publicly,  that  the  children  in  our 
institution  are  happy  and  cheerful ;  that  their  innocence  is  preserved,  their  reli- 
gious disposition  cherished,  their  mind  formed,  ther  knowledge  increased,  their 
hearts  elevated.  The  arrangements  which  have  been  adopted  for  attaining  these 
objects  possess  a  quiet  inward  power.  They  are  based  principally  on  the  benev- 
olent and  amiable  character  which  distinguishes  the  teachers  of  our  house,  and 
which  is  supported  by  a  vigorous  activity.  There  reigns  throughout  the  entire- 
institution  the  spirit  of  a  great  domestic  union,  in  which,  according  to  the  re- 
quirements of  such  a  union,  a  pure  paternal  and  fraternal  feeling  every  where 


4)0  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

shines  forth.  The  children  feel  themselves  free,  their  aeiivity  finds  even  a  pow- 
erful charm  in  their  employments ;  the  confidence  reposed  in  them,  and  the  af- 
fection shown  toward  them,  elevate  their  sentiments."  "The  life  in  the  house 
is,  to  a  rare  extent,  a  school  for  cultivating  domestic  affection  and  domestic  un- 
ity." "  All  the  teachers  in  common,  acting  as  an  organized  whole,  do  for  all  the 
children  what  a  careful  mother  does  for  the  few  children  of  her  own  family.'1 
The  body  of  teachers  "  attains  the.  most  perfect  unity  of  thought  and  action, 
and  appears  to  the  children  as  only  one  person." 

"  In  general,  it  is  to  be  remarked  that  we  seek  throughout  to  awaken  and  to 
footer  the  spirit  of  peace,  of  love,  and  of  mutual  brotherly  fellowship.  The  dis- 
position of  the  great  body  of  our  inmates  is  good.  A  spirit  of  strength,  of  re- 
pose, and  of  endeavor  rests  on  the  whole.  There  is  much  in  our  midst  ihnt  is 
eminently  good.  Some  pupils  evince  an  angelic  disposition,  full  of  love  and  of  a 
presentiment  of  higher  thoughts  and  a  higher  existence.  The  bad  ones  do  not 
feel  themselves  comfortable  in  the  midst  of  our  life  and  labor  ;  on  the  other 
land,  every  spark  of  good  and  noble  feeling  which  still  glimmers  even  in  the 
l»a<l  ours  eneonraged  and  developed.  The  children  are  in  general  neither  har- 
•dened  by  punishment,  nor  rendered  vain  and  superficial  by  rewards.  The  mild 
torl>e;iran<  v  of  the  most  amiable  household  has  the  most  undisturbed  play  in  our 
midst.  The  children's  feelings  are  not  lightly  wounded.  The  weak 'an- not 
made  to  com] 'an-  themselves  with  the  strong,  but  with  themselves.  We  never 
ask  a  pupil  if  he  can  do  what  another  does.  We  only  ask  him  if  he  can  do  a 
'hinu.  J!;it  \\e  always  ask  him  if  he  con  doit  perfectly.  As  littleof  the  strug- 
gle of  competition  takes  place  between  one  pupil  and  another,  as  between 
affectionate  brothers  and  sisters  who  live  with  a  loving  mother  in  a  happy 
condition." 

"  We  live  together  united  in  brotherly  love,  free  and  cheerful,  and  are,  in  re- 
spect to  that  which  we  aeknowledge  as  the  one  thing  needful,  one  heart  and 
one  soul.  We  may  also  say  that  our  pupils  are  one  heart  and  one  soul  with  us. 
They  feel  that  we  treat  them  in  a  fatherly  manner;  they  feel  that  we  serve  them, 
and  that  we  are  glad  to  serve  them ;  they  feel  that  we  do  not  merely  instruct 
them  ;  they  feel  that  for  their  education  we  give  life  and  motion  to  every  thing 
in  them  that  belongs  to  the  character  of  man.  They  also  hang  with  their 
whole  hearts  on  our  actions.  They  live  in  the  constant  consciousness  of  their 
own  strength." 

Must  not  even  a  sober  reader  of  these  passages  be  led  to  believe 
that  a  spirit  of  the  most  cordial  love  and  concord  reigned  in  a  rare 
manner  in  the  Pestalozzian  institution.  How  much  more  did  I  believe 
so,  who,  deeply  distressed  by  the  calamities  of  those  days,  and  inspired 
with  hope  by  the  eloquence  of  Fichte,  perceived  in  Yverdun  the 
commencement  of  a  better  time,  and  ardently  longed  to  hasten  its 
approach.  Those  who  did  not  themselves  live  through  those  years 
of  anguish,  in  which  injustice  increased  and  love  waxed  cold  in  the 
hearts  of  many,  may  perhaps  smile  at  the  enthusiasm  of  despair. 

Pestalozzi  himself  says  of  the  institution  that,  as  early  as  the  time 
when  it  was  removed  from  Buchsee  to  Yverdun,  it  bare  within  itself 
"  the  seeds  of  its  own  internal  decay,  (these  are  his  own  words,)  in  the 
unequal  and  contradictory  character  of  the  abilities,  opinions,  inclina- 
tions, and  claims  of  its  members  ;  although  as  yet  this  dissension  had 
done  any  thing  but  declare  itself  general,  unrestrained,  and  fierce." 
He  says,  that  nevertheless  many  of  the  members  were  still  desirous 
for  peace,  and  that  others  were  moderate  in  their  views  and  feelings. 
*'  But  the  seeds  of  our  decay  had  been  sown,  and  though  they  were 
still  invisible  in  many  places,  had  taken  deep  root.  Led  aside  by 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 


91 


worldly  temptations  and  apparent  good  fortune  from  the  purity,  sim- 
plicity, and  innocence  of  our  first  endeavors,  divided  among  ourselves 
in  our  inmost  feelings,  and  from  the  first  made  incapable,  by  the 
heterogeneous  nature  of  our  peculiarities  of  ever  becoming  of  one 
mind  and  one  heart  in  spirit  and  in  truth  for  the  attainment  of  our 
objects,  we  stood  there  outwardly  united,  even  deceiving  ourselves 
with  respect  to  the  real  truth  of  our  inclination  to  this  union,  and 
unfortunately  we  advanced;  each  one  in  his  own  manner,  with  firm 
and  at  one  time  with  rapid  steps  along  a  path  which,  without  our 
being  really  conscious  of  it,  separated  us  every  day  further  from  the 
possibility  of  our  ever  being  united. 

What  Ramsauer  says  entirely  agrees  with  this.  In  Burgdorf,  he 
says,  there  reigned  a  kindly  spirit.  "This  ceased  when  the  family 
life  was  transformed  in  the  institution  into  a  constitutional  state 
existence.  Now  the  individual  was  more  easily  lost  in  the  crowd  : 
thus  there  arose  a  desire  on  his  part  to  make  himself  felt  and  noticed. 
Egotism  made  its  appearance  every  day  in  more  offensive  forms. 
Envy  and  jealousy  rankled  in  the  breasts  of  many."  "Much  indeed 
was  said  about  'a  domestic  life,'  which  ought  to  prevail  in  an  educa- 
tional establishment,  just  as  a  very  great  deal  was  said  and  written 
about  an  *  harmonious  development  of  all  the  faculties  of  the  pupil ;' 
but  both  existed  more  in  theory  than  in  practice.  It  is  true,  that  a 
good  deal  of  common  interest  was  evinced  in  the  general  working  of 
the  institution,  but  the  details  were  allowed  to  go  on  or  stand  still 
very  much  as  they  might,  and  the  tone  of  the  whole  house  was 
more  a  tone  of  pushing  and  driving  than  one  of  domestic  quietude." 

In  the  report  is  this  passage- :  "  In  respect  to  the  execution  of  the 
design,  we  may  say  decidedly,  that  the  institution  has  stood  the  fiery 
ordeal  of  eight  severe  years." 

On  this  passage  Pestalozzi  remarks  as  follows  in  1823  :  "  What  is 
Lere  said  in  confirmation  of  this  view  is  altogether  a  consequence  of 
the  great  delusion  under  which  we  lay  at  that  period,  namely,  that  all 
those  things  in  regard  to  which  we  had  strong  intentions  and  some 
-clear  ideas,  were  really  as  they  ought  to  have  been,  and  as  we  should 
have  liked  to  make  them.  But  the  consequences  of  the  partial  truth 
•which  in  this  instance  had  hold  of  our  minds  were,  from  want  of  suf- 
-ficient  knowledge,  ability,  and  skill  for  carrying  it  out,  fixed  in  our 
midst,  confused,  and  made  the  seed  of  countless  weeds,  by  which  the 
good  seed  that  lay  in  the  ground  was  on  all  sides  crowded,  and  here 
ind  there  choked.  Neither  did  we  perceive  the  weeds  at  that  time; 
indeed,  as  we  then  lived,  thought,  acted,  and  dreamt,  it  was  impossi- 
ble that  we  should  perceive  them." 


92  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

I  am  fully  aware  that  by  some  these  later  observations  of  Pestalozzi 
have  been  attributed  partly  to  the  weakness  of  old  -age,  partly  to  the 
influence  of  Schmid.  To  this  I  can  not  assent.  As  early  as  new 
year's  day,  1808,  at  the  same  time  as  the  report  appeared,  Pestalozzi 
said  to  his  teachers  : 

"  My  work  was  founded  in  love  ;  love  vanished  from  our  midst ;  it  could  not 
but  vanish.  We  deceived  ourselves  as  to  the  strength  which  this  love  de- 
mands ;  it  could  not  but  vanish.  I  am  no  longer  in  a  position  to  provide  any 
help  for  it.  The  poison  which  eats  into  the  heart  of  our  work  is  accumulating 
hi  our  midst.  Worldly  honor  will  increase  this  poison.  0  God,  grant  that  wo 
may  no  longer  be  overcome  by  our  delusion.  I  look  upon  the  laurels  which  arc- 
strewn  in  our  path  as  laurels  set  up  over  a  skeleton.  I  see  before  my  eyes  the 
skeleton  of  my  work,  in  so  far  as  it  is  my  work.  I  desire  to  place  it  before  your 
eyes.  I  saw  the  skeleton  which  is  hi  my  house  Appear  crowned  with  laurels  be- 
fore my  eyes,  and  the  laurels  suddenly  go  up  in  flames.  They  cannot  bear  the 
fire  of  affliction  which  must  and  will  come  upon  my  house  ;  they  will  disap- 
pear ;  they  must  disappear.  My  work  will  stand.  But  the  consequences  of 
my  faults  will  not  pass  away.  I  shall  be  vanquished  by  them.  My  deliverance 
is  the  grave.  I  go  away,  but  you  remain,  Would  that  these  words  now  stood 
before  your  eyes  in  flames  of  fire  ! — Friends,  make  yourselves  better  than  I  was, 
that  God  may  finish  his  work  through  you,  as  he  does  not  finish  it  through  me. 
Make  yourselves  better  than  I  was.  Do  not  by  your  faults  lay  those  same  hin- 
drances in  your  way  that  I  have  lain  in  mine.  Do  not  let  the  appearance  of  success 
deceive  you,  as  it  deceived  me.  You  are  called  to  higher,  to  general  sacrifice, 
or  you  too  will  fail  to  save  my  work.  Enjoy  the  passing  hour,  enjoy  the  full- 
ness of  worldly  honor,  the  measure  of  which  has  risen  for  us  to  its  greatest 
height;  but  remember  that  it  vanishes  like  the  flower  of  the  field,  which  blooms 
for  a  little  while,  but  soon  passes  away." 

What  contradictions  !  Does  then  the  same  fountain  send  forth  both 
sweet  and  bitter  ?  Was  the  report  actually  intended  to  deceive  the 
world  ? 

Never;  but  Pestalozzi  was  not  entirely  free  from  an  unfortunate 
spirit  of  worldly  calculation,  although  his  calculations  in  most  cases 
turned  out  incorrect.  Ever  full  of  the  idea  of  spreading  happiness 
over  many  lands,  in  a  short  time,  by  means  of  his  methods  of  instruc- 
tion and  education,  he  naturally  considered  it  all-important  that  peo- 
ple should  have  a  good  opinion  of  his  institution.  By  the  bulk  of  (he 
public,  indeed,  the  institution  was  taken  as  substantial  evidence  for  or 
against  the  excellence  and  practicability  of  his  educational  ideas  :  with 
it  they  stood  or  fell. 

The  concern  which  Pestalozzi  felt  about  the  reputation  of  his 
establishment  became  especially  apparent  when  foreigners,  .particularly 
persons  of  distinction,  visited  Yverdun. 

"As  many  hundred  times  in  the  course  of  the  year,"  says  Ramsauer,  "as 
foreigners  visited  the  Pestalozzian  Institution,  so  many  hundred  times  did  Pesta- 
lozzi allow  himself,  in  his  enthusiasm,  to  be  deceived  by  them.  On  the  arrival 
of  every  fresh  visitor,  he  would  go  to  the  teachers  in  whom  he  placed  most  con- 
fidence and  say  to  them :  '  This  is  an  important  personage,  who  wants  to 
become  acquainted  with  all  we  are  doing.  Take  your  best  pupils  and  their 
analysis-books,  (copy-books  in  which  the  lessons  were  written  out,)  and  show 
him  what  we  can  do  and  what  we  wish  to  do.'  Hundreds  and  hundreds  of 
times  there  came  to  the  institution,  silly,  curious,  and  often  totally  uneducated 
persons,  who  came  because  it  was  the  'the  fashion.'  On  their  account,  we 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  93 

usually  had  to  interrupt  the  class  instruction  and  hold  a  kind  of  examination. 
In  1814,  the  aged  Prince  Esterhazy  came.  Pestalozzi  ran  all  over  the  house, 
calling  out :  'Ramsauer,  Ramsauer,  where  are  you?  Come  directly  with  your 
best  pupils  to  the  Red  House,  (the  hotel  at  which  the  Prince  had  alighted.) 
He  is  a  person  of  the  highest  importance  and  of  infinite  wealth ;  he  has  thou- 
sands of  bond-slaves  in  Hungary  and  Austria.  He  is  certain  to  build  schools 
and  set  free  his  slaves,  if  he  is  made  to  take  an  interest  in  the  matter.'  I  took 
about  fifteen  pupils  to  the  hotel.  Pestalozzi  presented  me  to  the  Prince  with 
these  words :  '  This  is  the  teacher  of  these  scholars,  a  young  man  who  fifteen 
years  ago  migrated  with  other  poor  children  from  the  canton  of  Appenzell  and 
came  to  me.  But  he  received  an  elementary  education,  according  to  his  individ- 
ual aptitudes,  without  let  or  hindrance.  Now  he  is  himself  a  teacher.  Thus 
you  see  that  there  is  as  much  ability  in  the  poor  as  in  the  richest,  frequently 
more ;  but  in  the  former  it  is  seldom  developed,  and  even  then,  not  methodically. 
It  is  for  this  reason  that  the  improvement  of  the  popular  schools  is  so  highly  im- 
portant, i  But  he  will  show  you  every  tiling  that  we  do  better  than  I  could.  I 
will,  therefore,  leave  him  with  you  for  the  present/  I  now  examined  the 
pupils,  taught,  explained,  and  bawled,  hi  my  zeal,  till  I  was  quite  hoarse, 
believing  that  the  Prince  was  thoroughly  convinced  about  every  thing.  At  the 
end  of  an  hour,  Pestalozzi  returned.  The  Prince  expressed  his  pleasure  at  what 
he  had  seen.  He  then  took  leave,  and  Pestalozzi,  standing  on  the  steps  of  the 
hotel,  said :  '  He  is  quite  convinced,  quite  convinced,  and  will  certainly  establish 
schools  on  his  Hungarian  estates.'  When  we  had  descended  the  stairs,  Pesta- 
lozzi said :  '  "Whatever  ails  my  arm  ?  It  is  so  painful.  Why,  see,  it  is  quite 
swollen,  I  can't  bend  it.'  And  in  truth  his  wide  sleeve  was  now  too  small  for 
his  arm.  I  looked  at  the  key  of  the  house-door  of  the  maison  rouge  and  said 
to  Pestalozzi ;  •'  Look  here,  you  struck  yourself  against  this  key  when  we  were 
going  to  the  Prince  an  hour  ago.'  On  closer  observation  it  appeared  that  Pesta- 
lozzi had  actually  bent  the  key  by  hitting  his  elbow  against  it.  In  the  first 
hour  afterward  he  had  not  noticed  the  pain,  for  the  excess  of  his  zeal  and  his 
joy.  So  ardent  and  zealous  was  the  good  old  man,  already  numbering  seventy 
years,  when  he  thought  he  had  an  opportunity  of  doing  good.  I  could  adduce 
many  such  instances.  It  was  nothing  rare  in  summer  for  strangers  to  come  to 
the  castle  four  or  five  times  in  the  same  day,  and  for  us  to  have  to  interrupt  the 
instruction  on  their  account  two,  three  or  four  times." 

After  this  highly  characteristic  account,  I  ask  the  reader  whether 
he  will  cast  a  stone  at  the  amiable  and  enthusiastic  old  man?  I  cer- 
tainly will  not,  though  I  could  heartily  have  wished  that,  faithful  in 
small  things  and  mindful  of  the  grain  of  mustard  seed,  he  had  plant- 
ed his  work  in  stillness,  and  that  it  had  been  slow  and  sound  in  its 
growth,  even  if  it  had  been  observed  by  only  a  few. 

The  source  of  the  internal  contradiction  which  runs  through  the 
life  of  Pestalozzi,  was,  as  we  saw  from  his  own  confessions,  the  fact  \ 
that,  in  spite  of  his  grand  ideal,  which  comprehended  the  whole  human 
race,  he  did  not  possess  the  ability  and  skill  requisite  for  conducting 
even  the  smallest  village  school.  His  highly  active  imagination  led 
him  to  consider  and  describe  as  actually  existing  in  the  institution 
whatever  he  hoped  sooner  or  later  to  see  realized.  His  hopeful  spir- 
it foresaw  future  development  in  what  was  already  accomplished,  and 
expected  that  others  would  benevolently  do  the  same.  This  bold  as- 
sumption has  an  effect  on  many,  especially  on  the  teachers  of  the 
institution.  This  appears  to  explain  how,  in  the  report  on  the  institu- 
tion, so  much  could  be  said  bond  fide  which  a  sober  spectator  was 
forced  to  pronounce  untrue. 


94  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI 

But  this  self-delusion  is  never  of  long  duration  ;  tin-  period  of  over- 
strung enthusiasm  is  followed  by  one  of  hopelessness  and  dejection. 
The  heart  of  man  is  indeed  an  alternately  proud  and  dejected  thing !' 
Such  an  ebb  and  flow  of  lofty  enthusiasm  and  utter  despair  pervades 
the  entire  life  of  Pestalozzi.  The  address  which  he  delivered  to  his- 
teachers  in  1808  appears  almost  as  the  caput  mortuumof  the  report: 
the  truth  at  last  makes  itself  hoard  in  tones  of  bitter  remorse.  Pes- 
talozzi  makes  a  more  tranquil  confession  concerning  the  early  times  of 
Yverdun,  at  a  later  period  of  his  life,  in  .his  autobiography.  More 
than  sixteen  years  had  elapsed,  and  passion  had  cooled  down.  He- 
states  soberly  what  he  had  enthusiastically  wished  to  accomplish  in 
those  earlier  days ;  he  acknowledges  that  he  had  deceived  himself 
and  he  can  now  therefore  relate  the  history  of  the  institution  clearly 
and  truthfully.  But  the  times  less  removed  from  him  are  still  too- 
present  to  his  feelings,  too  near  to  his  impassioned  gaze,  for  him  to- 
be  able  to  delineate  them  with  the  same  historical  clearness  in  that 
work. 

The  report  speaks  of  the  instruction  imparted  in  the  institution  in 
a  way  which  can  not  have  failed  to  give  offense  to  persons  who  were 
not  enthusiastically  prejudiced  in  favor  of  Pestalozzi.  Listen  to  these 
remarks  : — 

••  With  regard  to  the  subjects  of  the  instruction  generally,  the  following  is- 
what  may  be  stated.  The  child  learns  to  know  and  exercise  himself,  that  is.  his 
physical,  intellectual,  moral,  and  religious  faculties.  With  this  instruction  to  the 
child  about  himself,  instruction  about  nature  keeps  pace.  Commencing  with 
the  child  in  his  domestic  relations,  the  latter  instruction  gradually  embraces  hu- 
man nature  in  all  the  above  mentioned  aspects.  And  in  the  same  way,  com- 
mencing with  the  circle  of  the  child's  oliservation.it  gradually  embraces  tin- 
whole  of  external  nature.  From  the  first  starting  point,  the  child  is  led  to  an.- 
insight  into  the  essential  relations  of  mankind  and  society;  from  the  second  to 
an  insiirht  into  the  relations  in  which  the  human  race  stands  to  external  nature, 
and  external  nature  to  the  human  race.  Man  and  nature,  and  their  mutual  re- 
lation, constitute,  therefore,  the  primary  matter  of  the  instruction:  and  from 
these  subjects  the  knowledge  of  all  sep; irate  brandies  of  study  is  developed.  It 
must  here  be  remarked,  however,  that  the  aim  of  the  instruction  is  not  to  make 
the  pupils  comprehend  man  and  nature  merely  externally,  that  is,  merely  in  so 
far  as  they  present  isolated  imperical  characteristics,  capable  of  bem-  arranged 
either  in  a  logical  sequence  of  separate  units,  or  in  any  other  order  that  may  be 
convenient.  The  aim  is  rather  to  make  the  pupils  observe  things  as  a  living  ami 
organic  whole,  harmoniously  bound  together  by  necessary  and  eternal  laws,  and 
developing  itsdf  from  something  simple  and  original,  so  that  we  may  thus  brin- 
them  to  see  how  one  thing  is  linked  in  another.  The  instruction,  as  a  whole. 
does  not  proceed  from  any  theory,  but  from  the  very  life  and  substance  r,f  na- 
ture ;  and  every  theory  appears  only  as  the  expression  and  representation  of 
this  observed  life  and  substance." 

I  am  relieved  from  the  necessity  of  offering  any  criticism  on  this 
passage  by  a  note  which  Pestalozzi  added  to  it  fifteen  years  later. 
"  In  this  and  several  other  passages,"  says  the  venerable  old  man,  u  I 
express,  not  so  much  my  own  peculiar  views  on  education  in  their 
original  simplicity,  as  certain  immature  philosophical  views,  with. 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  0,5 

which,  at  that  time,  notwithstanding  all  our  good  intentions,  most  of 
the  inmates  of  our  house,  myself  among  the  rest,  must  needs  perplex 
our  heads,  and  which  brought  me  personally  to  a  standstill  in  my  en- 
deavors. These  views  caused  the  house  and  the  institution,  both 
of  which  attained  at  this  period  a  seeming  flourishing  condition, 
to  go  rotten  at  the  roots  ;  and  they  are  to  be  looked  upon  as  the 
hidden  source  of  all  the  misfortunes  which  have  since  come  upon  me.'r 
It  would  take  too  long  to  follow  the  report  in  the  accounts  which 
it  gives  of  the  instruction  in  the  separate  branches  of  knowledge.  In 
every  thing  Pestalozzi  wants  to  be  entirely  novel,  and  just  for  this  rea- 
son he  falls  into  mistakes.  Take,  as  a  specimen,  the  following  on  the 
instruction  in  geography  : — 

"  The  instruction  in  this  subject  begins  with  the  observation  of  the  district  in 
which  we  live,  as  a  type  of  what  the  surface  of  the  earth  presents.  It  is  then 
separated  into  elementary  instruction,  which  includes  physical,  mathematical, 
and  political  geography,  and  (2,)  the  topographical  part,  in  which  each  of  the  de- 
partments of  the  subject  suggested  by  the  observation  of  the  surrounding  dis- 
trict is  prosecuted  in  a  graduated  course,  and  their  reciprocal  bearings  brought 
out.  By  this  foundation,  the  pupils  are  prepared  for  forming  a  clear  and  com- 
prehensive view  of  the  earth  and  man,  and  their  mutual  influence  on  each  oth- 
er, of  the  condition  of  states  and  peoples,  of  the  progress  of  the  human  race  .in 
intellectual  culture,  and  lastly  of  physical  science  in  its  broader  outlines  and 
more  general  relations.  The  children  are  made  acquainted  with  the  statistical 
portion  of  the  subject,  that  is,  the  natural  productions,  the  number  of  inhabit- 
ants, form  of  government,  Ac.,  by  means  of  tabular  views." 

After  this,  need  we  wonder  when  we  find  Pestalozzi,  in  his  me- 
moirs, speaking  of  the  earlier  days  of  Yverdun  in  the  following 
manner?  "The  desire  of  governing,  in  itself  unnatural,  was  called 
forth  among  us  at  this  period,  on  the  one  hand,  by  the  reputation  of 
our  modes  of  instruction,  which  continued  to  increase  after  our  return 
to  Yverdun,  and  the  intoxicating  good  fortune  that  streamed  to  in-.-ir- 
ly  every  fool  who  hung  out  the  sign-board  of  an  elementary  method 
which,  in  reality,  did  not  as  yet  exist ;  on  the  other,  by  the  audacity 
of  our  behavior  toward  the  whole  world,  and  toward  every  thing  that 
was  done  in  education  and  was  not  cast  in  our  mould.  The  tiling  is 
melancholy  ;  but  it  is  true.  We  poor  weak  birds  presumed  to  take 
our  little  nestlings,  ere  they  were  fairly  out  of  their  shells,  on  flights 
which  even  the  strongest  birds  do  not  attempt  until  their  young  ones 
have  gained  strength  in  many  previous  trials.  We  announced  pub- 
licly things  which  we  had  neither  the  strength  nor  the  means  to 
accomplish.  There  are  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  these  vain  boastings 
of  which  I  do  not  like  to  speak." 

No  wonder  that,  in  this  state  of  things,  there  arose  a  determined 
opposition  to  the  institution.  In  Switzerland  especially,  Pestalozzi 
says,  the  public  journals  began  "to  speak  decidedly  against  our 
pretensions,  asserting  that  what  \v<-  did  was  by  no  means  what  we 


vjtf  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTKM  OF  I'KSTALOZZI. 

considered  and  represented  ours.-l\vs  to  be  doing.  But,  (he  contin- 
ues,) instead  of  penitently  returning  to  modesty,  we  sturdily  resisted 
this  opposition.  While  participating  in  this  temerity,  which  is  now 
incomprehensible  to  me,  I  began  to  be  sensible  that  we  were  treading 
in  paths  which  might  lead  us  astray,  and  that,  in  truth,  many  things 
in  the  midst  of  us  were  not  as  they  should  have  been,  and  as  we 
endeavored  to  make  them  appear  in  the  eyes  of  the  world." 

Other  members  of  the  institution  thought  quite  differently  ;  full  of 
self-confidence,  they  pressed  for  a  formal  examination  ;  and  in  the 
month  of  May,  1809,  an  application  to  that  effect  was  made  to  the 
Swiss  Diet,  then  assembled  at  Freiburg.  The  request  was  granted, 
and  Merian,  member  of  the  executive  council  of  Basel ;  Trechsel, 
professor  of  mathematics,  at  Bern  ;  and  Pere  Girard,  of  Freiburg, 
were  commissioned  by  Governor  D'Affry  to  examine  the  institution. 

In  November,  1809,  just  after  I  had  arrived  in  Yverdun,  this  com- 
mission of  inquiry  came  down  and  remained  five  days.  They  were 
five  sultry  days  for  Pestalozzi  and  his  teachers ;  it  was  felt  that  the 
commission,  which  confined  itself  strictly  to  actual  results,  would  make 
no  very  enthusiastic  report.  Pere  Gerard  wrote  the  report  in  French, 
Professor  Trechsel  translated  it  into  German  ;  on  the  1 2th  of  May, 
1810,  it  was  presented  to  the  Diet,  then  assembled  at  Solothurn.  In 
the  following  year,  the  thanks  of  the  country  were  accorded  to 
Pestalozzi,  by  the  Diet ;  and  there  the  matter  was  allowed  to  rest. 

I  believe  that  the  commission  pronounced  an  impartial  judgment ; 
the  conclusion  of  the  report  speaks  for  the  whole.  "The  educational 
methods  of  the  institution,  (say  the  commissioners,)  stand  only  in 
very  imperfect  connection  with  our  establishments  for  public  instruc- 
tion. The  institution  has  in  no  way  aimed  at  coming  into  harmony 
with  these  public  schools.  Determined  at  any  price  to  interest  all  the 
faculties  of  children,  in  order  to  guide  their  development  according  to 
its  own  principles,  it  has  taken  counsel  of  its  own  views  only,  and  be- 
trays an  irresistible  desire  to  open  for  itself  new  paths,  even  at  the 
cost  of  never  treading  in  those  which  usage  has  now  established. 
This  was  perhaps  the  right  means  for  arriving  at  useful  discoveries, 
but  it  was  also  a  design  which  rendered  harmony  impossible.  The 
institution  pursues  its  own  way  ;  the  public  institutions  pursue  theirs  ; 
and  there  is  no  probability  that  both  ways  will  very  soon  meet.  It  is 
a  pity  that  the  force  of  circumstances  has  always  driven  Mr.  Pesta- 
lozzi beyond  the  career  which  his  pure  zeal  and  his  fervent  charity  had 
marked  out  for  him.  A  good  intention,  noble  endeavors,  indefatiga- 
ble perseverance,  should  and  will  always  meet  with  justice.  Let  us 
profit  by  the  excellent  ideas  which  lie  at  the  foundation  of  the  whole 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  9*7 

undertaking;  let  us  follow  its  instructive  examples;  but  let  us  also 
lament  that  an  adverse  fate  must  hang  over  a  man,  who,  by  the  force 
of  circumstances,  is  constantly  hindered  from  doing  what  he  would 
wish  to  do." 

After  the  publication  of  the  report,  there  arose  a  long  and  violent 
literary  warfare,  which  did  any  thing  but  add  to  the  credit  of  the  in- 
stitution.* With  this  war  against  .external  foes,  was  unfortunately 
associated  an  internal  feud,  which  ended  in  the  departure  of  Schmid 
and  others  of  the  teachers. 

One  of  Pestalozzi's  biographers  states,  that  Schmid's  pride  and  pre- 
tensions had  grown  to  such  an  extent,  that  he  had  acted  with  the 
greatest  harshness  toward  Pestalozzi,  Niederer,  and  Kriisi.  "This 
was  caused,"  continues  the  biographer,  "  by  some  ideas  which  he  had 
partially  caught  up  from  two  scientific  men  who  were  then  stopping 
with  Pestalozzi,  (one  of  them  is  now  a  man  of  note  in  Silesia.)  Per- 
haps at  that  time  these  ideas  were  not  very  clearly  defined  in  the 
minds  of  those  men  themselves."! 

The  biographer  means  me  and  my  friend  ;  I  shall  therefore  not  be 
misunderstood,  if  I  relate  briefly  the  matter  to  which  he  refers. 

I  had  come  to  learn  and  to  render  service.  On  this  account,  I 
took  up  my  quarters  entirely  in  the  old  building  of  the  institution, 
slept  in  one  of  the  large  dormitories,  took  my  meals  with  the  chil- 
dren, attended  the  lessons,  morning  and  evening  prayers,  and  the  con- 
ferences of  the  teachers.  I  listened  and  observed  attentively  in 
silence ;  but  I  was  far  from  thinking  of  commencing  myself  to  teach. 
My  opinion  upon  all  the  things  that  I  saw  and  heard  was  formed  very 
much  with  reference  to  the  boy  of  eight  years  intrusted  to  my  care, 
accordingly  as  they  contributed  to  his  comfort  or  otherwise.  Several 
weeks  had  passed  on  in  this  way,  when  I  was  one  evening  with  Pes- 
talozzi and  the  rest  of  the  teachers  at  the  hotel  of  the  Wild  Man, 
where  they  used  to  meet  I  think  once  a  fortnight.  After  supper, 
Pestalozzi  called  me  into  an  adjoining  room ;  we  were  quite  alone. 
**  My  teachers  are  afraid  of  you,"  he  said,  "  because  you  only  listen 
and  look  on  in  silence  ;  why  do  you  not  teach  ?"  I  answered  that 
before  teaching,  I  wished  to  learn — to  learn  in  silence.  After  the 

*  The  well-known  K.  L.  von  Haller  noticed  the  report  of  the  commission  in  terms  of  high 
praise,  in  the  G'ottirtgen  Lite.rary  Advertiser,  of  the  13th  of  April,  1811,  and  at  the  same  time 
accused  the  Pestalozzian  Institution  of  inspiring  its  pupils  with  an  aversion  from  religion,  the 
constituted  authorities,  and  the  aristocracy.  In  reply  to  this,  Niederer  wrote  "The  Pesta- 
\n".-r.\p.n  Institution  to  the  Public."  This  pamphlet  appeared  in  a  new  form  in  1812,  under  the 
title,  "  Pestalozzi's  Educational  Undertaking  in  relation  to  ihe  Civilization  of  the  Present 
Time."  Bremi,  of  Zurich,  wrote  in  reply  to  the  former  pamphlet  ;  Pestalozzi  and  Niederer 
wrote  again  in  reply  to  Bremi.  Niederer  professes  to  have  convicted  Bremi  of  ninety-two 
lies,  thirty-six  falsifications,  and  twenty  calumnies. 

t  Henning,  in  the  Schulrath,  (an  educational  periodical ) 

7 


98  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZ1. 

conversation  had  touched  on  one  thing  and  another,  he  frankly  told 
me'things  about  several  of  his  teachers  which  put  me  into  a  state  of 
astonishment,  and  which  stood  in  direct  contradiction  with  what  I  had 
read  in  the  report,  but  not  with  what  I  had  myself  already  observed 
or  expected.  Pestalozzi  followed  up  these  disclosures  with  the  pro- 
posal, that  I  and  my  friend,  in  company  with  Schmid,  whom  he 
highly  praised,  especially  for  hjs  practical  ability  and  his  activityr 
should  set  to  work  to  renovate  the  institution. 

The  proposal  came  upon  me  so  unexpectedly,  that  I  begged  for 
time  to  think  of  it,  and  discussed  the  matter  with  my  friend,  who  was 
just  as  much  surprised  as  I  was.  We  were  both  naturally  brought 
by  this  means  into  a  closer  relation  with  Schmid,  became  in  a  short 
time  acquainted  with  the  arcana  imperil,  and  honestly  considered 
what  obstacles  stood  in  the  way  of  the  prosperity  of  the  institution, 
and  what  could  be  done  to  remove  them. 

Foremost  of  these  was  the  intermixture  of  German  and  French 
boys,  which  doubly  pained  me,  as  I  had  come  from  Paris.  The  pa- 
rents thought  otherwise:  they  perceived  in  this  very  intermixture  a 
fortunate  means  of  training  their  children  in  the  easiest  way  to  speak 
both  languages  :  whereas  the  result  was,  that  the  children  could  'speak 
neither.  With  such  a  medley  of  children,  the  institution  was  devoid 
of  a  predominant  mother-tongue,  and  assumed  the  mongrel  character 
of  border-provinces.  Pestalozzi  read  the  prayers  every  morning  and 
evening,  first  in  German,  then  in  French  !  At  the  lessons  in  the  Ger- 
man language,  intended  for  German  children,  I  found  French  children 
who  did  not  understand  the  most  common  German  word.  This,  and 
much  more  that  was  to  be  said  against  this  intermixture,  was  now 
discussed  with  Pestalozzi,  and  the  proposal  was  made  to  him,  to  sep- 
arate the  institution  into  two  departments,  one  for  German,  the 
other  for  French  children.  Only  in  this  way,  it  was  represented  to 
him,  could  the.  education  of  each  class  of  children  be  successfully 
conducted. 

The  proposal  was  not  accepted,  chiefly  on  account  of  external  ob- 
stacles, which  might  however  have  been  overcome.  A  passage  in 
Pestalozzi's  "  Fortunes  "  shows  that  he  afterward  thoroughly  agreed 
with  us.  In  this  passage  he  calls  it  an  unnatural  circumstance,  that 
the  institution  was  transplanted  from  Burgdorf  to  Yverdun,  "  from 
German  to  French  soil."  "  When  we  first  come  here,"  he  continues, 
"  our  pupils  were  nearly  all  Germans  ;  but  there  was  very  soon  added 
to  them  an  almost  equal  number  of  French  children.  Most  of  the 
German  children  were  now  intrusted  to  us,  not  with  any  particular 
reference  to  any  elementary  or  other  education,  but  simply  in  order 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  99 

that  they  might  learn  to  speak  French  in  a  German  house,  and  this 
was  the  very  thing  that  we  were  least  able  to  teach  them  ;  so  also- 
most  of  the  French  parents  intrusted  their  children  to  us,  in  order 
that  they  might  learn  German  in  our  German  house :  and  here  we 
stood  between  these  two  claims,  equally  unable  to  satisfy  either  the 
one  or  the  other.  At  the  same  time,  the  persons  on  either  side,  who 
committed  their  children  to  our  care,  saw  with  as  little  distinctness 
what  they  really  wished  of  us,  as  we  did  the  extent  of  our  inability 
to  satisfy  their  real  wishes.  But  it  had  now  become  the  fashion  to 
send  us  children  from  all  sides  ;  and  so,  in  respect  to  pecuniary 
resources  and  eulogistic  prattle,  things  went  on  for  a  considerable  time 
in  their  old  glittering  but  deceptive  path." 

The  second  evil  was  this.  Much  as  is  said  in  the  report  about  the 
life  in  the  institution  having  quite  the  character  of  that  in  a  family, 
and  even  excelling  it  in  many  respects,  still  nothing  could  be  less  do- 
mestic than  this  life  was.  Leaving  out  of  consideration  Pestalozzi's 
residence,  there  were  indeed  in  the  old  castle  class  rooms,  dining 
rooms,  and  bed  rooms,  but  the  parlor,  so  justly  esteemed  by  Pesta- 
lo/zi,  was  altogether  wanting.  Older  boys  who,  as  the  expression  is, 
had  arrived  at  years  of  indiscretion,  may  have  felt  this  want  less  ;  but 
so  much  the  more  was  it  felt  by  the  youngest — by  children  of  six  to 
ten  years.  I  felt  deeply  on  this  account  for  my  little  Freddy,  who,, 
until  he  came  to  the  institution,  had  grown  up  under  the  care  of  a 
tender  mother  in  a  lovely  family  circle.  His  present  uncomfortable , 
and  even  desolate  existence  grieved  me  much,  and  troubled  my  con- 
science. For  his  sake,  and  at  the  same  time,  for  the  sake  of  the  rest 
of  the  little  boys,  we  begged  Pestalozzi  to  rent  a  beautiful  dwelling 
house  in  the  vicinity  of  Yverdun,  where  the  children  might  iind  a 
friendly  compensation  for  the  life  of  the  family  circle  which  they  had 
lost.  We  offered  to  take  up  our  abode  with  them. 

This  proposal  also  was  declined.  It  may  easily  be  supposed  that  in 
the  consultation  upon  it,  the  weak  side  of  the  institution,  the  want  of 
a 'parlor,  and  the  impossibility  even  of  supplying  the  place  of  the 
family  life,  was  very  fully  discussed.* 

Many  of  the  conversations  I  had  with  Pestalozzi  I  shall  never  for- 
get. One  of  them  concerned  the  teachers  of  the  institution,  in  par- 
ticular the  under-teachers.  I  saw  that  many  of  them  labored  with 
the  greatest  fidelity  and  conscientiousness,  even  sacrificing  themselves 

*  We  made  a  third  proposal,  because  it  appeared  to  us  to  be  impossible  that  Pestalozzi's 
ideas  could  be  realized  in  Yverdun  under  the  then  existing  circumstances.  We  asked  him  to 
establish  in  the  canton  of  Argovia  the  long  promised  popr  school,  and  offered  to  engage  in 
the  work  ourselves  to  the  best  of  our  ability.  As  he  declined  this  proposal  also,  I  thought  it 
my  duty,  especially  on  account  of  the  boy  confided  to  me,  to  leave  the  institution. 


100  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

for  the  good  of  the  institution.  I  need  only  refer  the  reader  to  the 
autobiography  of  honest,  manful  Ranlsauer,  for  evidence  of  this  fact. 
But  still  there  was  something  wanting  in  most  of  the  teachers  ;  this 
Pestalozzi  himself  could  not  help  feeling.  In  his  new  year's  address 
of  1811,  he  said  to  them:  "Do  not  attach  a  higher  value  to  the 
ability  to  teach  well,  than  that  which  it  really  has  in  relation  to  edu- 
cation as  a  whole.  You  have,  perhaps,  too  early  in  your  lives  had  to 
bear  burdens  which  may  have  diminished  somewhat  the  lovely  bloom 
of  your  youth  ;  but  to  you  as  educators,  that  bloom  is  indispensable. 
You  must  seek  to  restore  it.  I  am  not  ignorant  of  your  ability,  your 
worth  ;  but  just  because  I  know  them,  I  would  wish  to  set  upon  them 
the  crown  of  an  amiable  disposition,  which  will  increase  your  worth 
and  make  even  your  ability  a  blessing." 

In  what  then  were  the  teachers  deficient  ?  Pestalozzi  points  out 
one  thing :  many  who  had  grown  up  in  the  institution  had  too  early 
borne  burdens,  and  had  been  kept  in  uninterrupted  exertion.  "  Those 
teachers  who  had  been  pupils  of  Pestalozzi,"  says  Ramsauer,  "  were 
particularly  hard  worked,  for  he  at  all  times  required  much  more  from 
tin-ill,  than  he  did  from  the  other  teachers ;  he  expected  them  to  live 
entirely  for  the  house, — to  be  day  and  night  concerned  for  the  wel 
fare  of  the  house  and  the  pupils.  They  were  to  help  to  bear  every 
burden,  every  unpleasantness,  every  domestic  care,  and  to  be  respon- 
sible for  every  thing.  Thus,  for  example,  in  their  leisure  hours,  (that 
is  when  they  had  no  lessons  to  give,)  they  were  required  at  one  time 
to  work  some  hours  every  day  in  the  garden,  at  another  to  chop 
wood  for  the  fires,  and,  for  some  time,  even  to  light  them  early  in  the 
morning,  or  transcribe,  &c.  There  were  some  years  in  which  no  one 
of  us  were  found  in  bed  after  three  o'clock  in  the  morning ;  and  we 
had  to  work  summer  and  winter,  from  three  in  the  morning  till  six  in 
the  evening."*  Nearly  all  the  work  consisted  in  the  direct  perform- 
ance of  school  duties  ;  the  teachers  had  no  time  to  think  of  their  own 
improvement. 

There  was  another  thing.  Most  of  the  teachers  of  the  institution 
might  be  regarded  as  so  many  separate  and  independent  teachers,  who 
had  indeed  received  their  first  instruction  there,  but  who  had  passed 
much  too  soon  from  learning  to  teaching,  and  wished  to  see  how  they 
could  fight  their  way  through.  There  was  never  any  such  thing  as  a 
real  pedagogical  lecture.  Under  such  a  course  of  training,  it  could 
not  happen  otherwise  than  that  some  of  the  teachers  should  strike 
into  peculiar  paths  :  of  this  Schmid  gave  an  example.  But  it  was  an 

Ramsauer's  time-table  shows  that,  from  two  or  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  till  nine  in 
<he  evening,  he  was  almost  constantly  occupied  with  official  duties. 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  IQI 

equally  necessary  consequence,  that  the  usual  characteristic  of  such 
teachers  should  make  itself  apparent  :  namely,  a  great  want  of  self- 
knowledge  and  of  a  proper  modest  estimate  of  their  own  labors. 
"  Man  only  learns  to  know  himself  in  man." 

I  must  know  what  others  have  done  in  my  department  of  science, 
in  order  that  I  may  assign  the  proper  place  and  rank  to  my  own 
labors.  It  is  incredible,  how  many  of  the  mistaken  views  and  prac- 
tices of  Festal ozzi  and  his  teachers  sprang  from  this  source. 

But  there  was  a  third  thing  that  I  brought  against  Pestalozzi :  his 
view  of  the  teachers,  and  their  relation  to  the  methods  and  the 
methodical  compendiums.  As  already  mentioned,  the  compendiums 
were  to  render  all  peculiar  talent  and  skill  in  teaching  as  good  as  un- 
necessary. These  methodical  compendiums  were  like  dressing 
machines,  which  did  not,  unfortunately,  quite  supply  the  place  of 
the  teachers,  but  still  left  the  services  of  a  man  necessary ;  just  as  in 
the  most  perfect  printing  presses,  a  man  must  always  be  appointed, 
though  indeed  he  scarcely  requires  the  most  ordinary  degree  of 
intelligence. 

Pestalozzi's  idea  of  a  teacher  was  not  much  better  than  this ;  ac- 
cording to  his  views,  such  a  one  had  nothing  to  do,  but  to  take  his 
scholars  through  the  compendium,  with  pedantic  accuracy,  according 
to  the  directions  how  to  use  it,  without  adding  thereto,  or  diminishing 
therefrom.  He  was  never  required  to  be  more  than  just  a  step  in  ad- 
vance of  the  scholars.  Just  as  if  a  guide  with  a  lantern  were  to  be 
given  to  a  man  traveling  in  the  night,  and  the  guide  had  not  only  to 
light  the  traveler,  but  first  to  find  out  the  way  himself  with  the  aid 
of  the  lantern.  The  real  teacher  must  have  the  destination  and  the 
road  to  it  so  clear  before  his  mind,  that  he  shall  be  able  to  guide  the 
scholars  without  a  lantern — without  a  book  of  method.  He  must  be 
able  to  say,  La  methode  c*est  moi* 

But  can  any  one  imagine  a  more  miserable  piece  of  slave-work  than 
that  of  a  teacher  who  is  strictly  tied  to  a  Pestalozzian  compendium  ? 
Is  not  all  peculiar  teaching  power  thereby  fettered, — all  disposition 
to  sprightliness  and  decision  in  teaching  and  acting  kept  down, — all 
affectionate  relation  between  teacher  and  scholar  rendered  impossible  ?f 

At  that  time  the  institution  appeared  to  me,  in  moments  of  sadness, 
as  a  great  noisy  education  factory  ;  many  mistook  the  dull  noise 

*  "Every  teacher,"  says  Ilerder,  "  must  have  his  own  method  ;  he  must  have  created  it 
with  intelligence  for  himself,  otherwise  he  will  not  be  successful." 

t  On  leaving  Yverdun  in  1810  and  going  to  Berlin.  I  attended  an  examination  at  Plamann's 
institution.  How  the  free,  independent,  and  untrammeled  teaching  of  Friesen  and  Harnisch 
contrasted  with  the  rold.  methodical,  and  constrained  teaching  of  many  Pestalozzian 
teachers ! 


102  LIFE  AND  EDUCATION' AL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

of  the  machines  for  an  expression  of  youthful  joyousness  on  the  part 
of  the  pupils,  while  engaged  in  learning. 

Pestalozzi's  view  of  the  task  of  the  teachers  was  too  intimately 
connected  with  his  general  views  on  education,  and  had  been  too 
much  realized  in  the  institution  to  allow  me  to  entertain  the  idea  of 
his  changing  it,  although  the  good  old  man  bitterly  felt  that  my 
observation  was  not  without  foundation. 

At  a  later  period,  when  the  brilliancy  of  the  reputation  of  the  in- 
stitution was  decreasing  more  and  more,  Pestalozzi  saw  his  under- 
teachers  in  the  year  1817,  as  he  relates,  "suddenly  combine,  like 
English  factory  work-people,  desist  by  common  consent  from  the  per- 
formance of  their  duties,  and  declare  in  a  body  that  they  would  give 
no  more  lessons,  but  would  remain  in  a  state  of  complete  strike- 
idleness,  until  the  salary  of  every  one  of  them  should  be  doubled." 

•  Pestalozzi  pressed  me  to  teach  mineralogy,  and  in  doing  so  to  make 
use  of  a  small  collection  of  minerals  which  the  institution  possessed. 
I  replied  that,  if  I  did  do  so,  I  must  entirely  depart  from  the  methods 
of  instruction  pursued  in  the  institution.  How  so?  asked  Pestalozzi. 
According  to  that  method,  I  replied,  I  should  have  to  do  nothing  but 
to  hold  up  before  the  boys  one  specimen  of  the  collection  after  an- 
other, to  give  the  name  of  each,  for  example,  "  that  is  chalk,"  and 
thereupon  to  make  the  class  repeat  in  unison  three  times,  "  that  is 
chalk."  It  was  thought  that  in  this  way  the  observation  of  actual 
objects  and  instruction  in  language  were  provided  for  at  the  same 
time. 

I  endeavored  to  explain  that  such  a  mode  of  instruction  made  a 
mere  show,  giving  the  children  words  before  they  had  formed  an  idea 
of  the  images  of  the  minerals  ;  that  moreover  this  process  of  percep- 
tion and  conception  was  only  disturbed  by  the  talking  of  the  teacher 
and  the  repetition  of  the  scholars,  and  was  therefore  best  done  in  si- 
lence. On  Pestalozzi's  opposing  this  view,  I  asked  him  why  children 
are  born  speechless,  and  do  not  begin  to  learn  to  speak  until  they  are 
about  three  years  old  ;  why  we  should  in  vain  hold  a  light  before  a 
child  eight  days  old,  and  say  u  light "  three  times,  or  even  a  hundred 
times,  as  the  child  would  certainly  not  try  to  repeat  the  word; 
whether  this  was  not  an  indication  to  us  from  a  higher  hand,  that 
time  is  necessary  for  the  external  perception  of  the  senses  to  become 
internally  appropriated,  so  that  the  word  shall  only  come  forth  as  the 
matured  fruit  of  the  inward  conception  now  fully  formed.  What 
I  said  about  the  silence  of  children  struck  Pestalozzi. 

As  far  as  my  recollection  extends,  I  have  now  related  the  most  im 
oortant  matters  that  were  discussed  between  Pestalozzi,  Schmid,  and 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZ1.  jQg 

myself.  I  should  at  the  present  day  still  uphold  the  views  which 
I  entertained  at  that  time  ;  but,  taught  by  so  much  experience,  I  should 
perhaps  be  able  to  do  so  with  greater  "  clearness  "  than  I  could  then 
have  done. 

But  here  I  will  by  no  means  represent  myself  as  blameless,  and 
accuse  others.  Although  I  believe  that  my  opinions  were  right,  I 
know  that  my  conduct  was  wrong  in  several  respects  ;  but  this  the 
unhappy  circumstances  of  the  institution  will  perhaps  in  some  meas- 
ure excuse.  I  will  only  mention  oae  thing.  Unfortunately,  Niederer 
and  Schmid  were  already  placed  in  complete  opposition  to  each  other 
by  their  different  capabilities,  labors,  and  aims  ;  ia  spite  of  my  best 
endeavors,  I  found  it  impossible  to  effect  a  mediation  between  them, 
there  was  nothing  left  me  but  to  side  with  the  one  or  the  other. 
Pestalozzi  himself  allied  me  with  Schmid,  whose  resolute  and  restless 
activity  was  a  pledge  to  me  that  he  would  render  powerful  assistance 
in  introducing  reforms.  I  was  thus  brought  almost  involuntarily  into 
opposition  with  Niederer.  Even  though  I  did  not  altogether  agree 
with  his  views,  I  ought  to  have  emphatically  acknowledged  his  self- 
sacrificing  enthusiasm.  I  felt  myself  drawn  to  Kriisi  by  his  mild 
disposition,  but  he  too  was  against  Schmid. 

My  silent  observation  was  distasteful  to  the  younger  teachers ;  can 
I  blame  them  for  it  ?  While  they  were  toiling  with  unheard  of  exer- 
tion from  morning  till  night,  and  had  been  toiling  in  the  same  man- 
ner for  years  previously,  I  looked  on  at  their  toilsome  life  with  a  crit- 
ical eye.  I  appeared  to  them  as  a  strange,  quizzing,  inactive  intruder, 
and  it  was  inevitable  that  I  should  so  appear  to  them.  They  did  not 
know  that  I  had  come  with  so  high  an  opinion  of  the  institution,  that 
I  wished  at  first  only  to  look  on,  only  to  learn,  in  order  to  be  able 
afterward  to  teach  and  to  assist  wherever  I  could. 

That  high  opinion  I  had  imbibed  chiefly  from  the  report.  The  re- 
port led  me  to  form  an  over-estimate  of  the  excellence  of  the  institu- 
tion before  I  went  to  Yverdun,  and  this  over-estimate  led  me  when 
there  to  think  too  lightly  of  its  labors.  I  ought  to  have  acknowl- 
edged then,  the  honest,  conscientious,  toilsome  industry  of  several  of 
the  teachers,  for  instance,  Ramsauer,  even  though  they  did  not  always 
bring  to  light  discoveries  that  were  entirely  new ;  misled  by  the 
report,  I  had  hoped,  it  is  true,  to  find  there  nothing  else  but  new 
discoveries. 

But,  notwithstanding  all  these  evils,  I  should  certainly  have  re- 
mained longer  at  Yverdun,  and  should  have  wrought  in  patient  and 
persevering  hope,  had  I  not  held  it  to  be  my  duty  to  take  away  the 
boy  intrusted  to  my  care.  I  quitted  Yverdun  with  him  in  May,  1810. 


104  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PE8TALOZZI. 

Soon  after  my  departure,  the  lon*^  reMiain<-<l  enmity  there  broke  out 
into  an  open  t'eud.     Schmid  left  tin-  institution,  and  wrote  against  it. 

In  the  summer  of  1811,  Monsieur  Jullien,  Napoleon's  companion 
in  arms  in  Egypt,  and  Chevalier  of  the  Legion  of  Honor,  vi>it«-d 
Yverdun.  He  remained  in  the  institution  >ix  \v<-.-ks  ;  his  observations 
were  embodied  in  two  works.* 

During  the  war  of  1814,  the  hospital  department  of  the  Austrian 
army  required  that  the  buildings  of  the  institution  should  l>e  givon  up 
for  a  hospital.  Fortunately,  tin-  Emperor  Alexander  \va>  then  at 
Basel  :  Pestalo//i  immudiaU-ly  went  to  him,  and  wa>  iv.-eived  in  the 
most  friendly  inanm-r;  in  consequence  of  the  interposition  of  the 
emperor,  the  hospital  was  not  established  at  Yverdun  at  all,  and  in 
November  of  the  same  year  Pestalozzi  received  the  order  of  St. 
Vladimir,  fourth  class. 

Schmid's  departure  from  the  institution  caused  a  very  sen>i!»le  void, 
the  existence  of  which  was  painfully  felt.  Letters  which  Pestalozzi 
wrote  to  Niederer  at  that  time,  bear  witness  t<>  the  evil  plight  in  which 
the  institution  was  placed.  "0  Niederer,"  he  writes,  "without 
strength  and  purity  of  purpose  in  those  who  surround  us,  all  our  en- 
deavors after  what  i>  gr.-at  and  hiirh  are  lost'  the  sublime  and 
good  can  not  easily  unfold  tli.-mx-lves  where  weakness  and  worthless- 
ness  peer  forth  from  all  corners — our  greatest  enemies  are  under  our 
own  roof,  and  eat  from  the  same  dish  with  us — it  is  better  to  be  alone 
than  to  accept  delusive  aid  from  baseness." 

In  a  second  letter,  Pestalozzi  writes :  "  The  internal  weakness  of 
our  house  has  opened  the  mouth  of  the  weakest  among  us,  for  them 
to  give  us  monkey's  advice  and  hold  public  conferences  about  us 
among  themselves.  The  great  evil  of  our  house  comes  from  boys 
who  here  play  the  part  of  men,  but  who  at  every  other  place  would  be 
schoolboys." 

In  this  period  falls  also  the  visit  of  the  Prussian  Chancellor  of 
State,  von  Beyme,  who  entered  the  institution  "  with  a  great  predis- 
position in  favor  of  Pestalozzi,"  and  before  he  left  it  expressed  himself 
to  the  effect,  that  if  the  institution  held  together  for  another  year,  he 
should  look  upon  it  as  the  greatest  wonder,  for  that,  in  the  instruction 
which  he  had  seen  given  there,  things  were  wanting  which  teachers  in 
the  lowest  village  schools  would  be  ashamed  to  have  neglected. 

Niederer  felt  more  than  any  one  else  the  void  created  by  the  de- 
parture of  Schmid.  As  « -arly  as  the  end  of  the  year  1813,  he  wrote 
to  Schmid  in  the  most  conciliatory  manner,  and  writing  on  the  10th 

*  Precis  8ur  I'inslitut  d"  Yverdun  en  Suisse,  1812 ;  and  Esprit  de  la  methods  d'education  de 
M.  Pestalozzi. 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI  ^5 

of  February,  1815,  he  >ays  :  M  With  Pestalozzi,  I  stake  every  thing  I 
have  upon  bringing  you  back.  Alone  I  can  do  nothing.  You  know 
wherein  I  am  deficient,  but  with  you  and  a  few  other  extinguished 
and  noble  minded  men,  I  do  not  doubt  of  the  realization  of  an  educa- 
tional heaven  on  earth." 

iV-talox/i  adduces  these  passages'  as  certain  proofs  of  Schmid's 
ability,  and  the  high  value  of  his  services  to  the  institution  :  but  they 
aUo  testify  to  an  honorable  mind  on  the  part  of  Niederer,  who  did 
not  attempt  to  conceal  his  own  practical  incompetency,  and  who  re- 
1  a  d  -ep- seated  antipathy  to  Schmid,  in  order  to  realize  his 
educational  ideal. 

Schmid  was  then  at  the  head  of  a  school  in  Bregenz.  At  Nieder- 
er's  pressing  invitation,  he  returned  to  Yverdun  in  the  Easter  of  1815, 
and  now  commenced  a  comprehensive  reform  of  the  institution, 
•  >j-  ( ially  in  an  economical  point  of  view.  There  soon  arose  a  silent 
but  general  antipathy  to  him. 

On  the  llth  of  the  following  December, 'Madame  Pestalozzi  died, 
aged  nearly  eighty  years,  having  been  the  faithful  and  patient  partner 
of  her  husband  during  forty-five  years,  through  times  of  severe  suffer- 
ing. At  her  funeral,  after  a  hymn  had  been  sung,  Pestalozzi,  turning 
toward  the  coffin,  said  :  u  We  were  shunned  and  contemned  by  all, 
sickness  and  poverty  bowed  u->  down,  and  we  ate  dry  bread  with 
tears;  what  wa*  it  that,  in  those  days  of  severe  trial,  gave  you  and 
me  strength  to  persevere  and  not  cast  away  our  hope  ?M  Thereupon 
he  took  up  a  Bible,  which  was  lyini;  near  at  hand,  pressed  it  on  the 
breast  of  the  corpse,  and  >aid  :  u  From  this  source  you  and  I  drew 
courage,  and  strength,  and  peace."  Her  grave  is  under  two  tall 
walnut  trees  in  the  garden  of  the  castle. 

On  this  sorrowful  day,  the  antipathy  of  many  of  the  teachers 
toward  Schmid  first  broke  out  into  open  enmity,  which  was  never 
again  appeased,  and  which  positively  poisoned  the  last  twelve  years 
of  the  poor  old  man's  life.  From  that  time  every  blessing  seemed  to 
forsake  the  institution,  and  every  new  undertaking  in  which  Pestalozzi 
engaged. 

Most  of  the  teachers  were  against  Schmid.  Blochmann,  for  many 
years  director  of  a  flourishing  educational  establishment  at  Dresden, 
drew  up  a  formal  complaint  against  him,  which  was  signed  by  Kriisi, 
Ramsauer,  Stern,  Ackermann,  and  others,  in  all  twelve  teachers. 

In  the  year  1816,  these  men  left  the  institution,  among  them  even 
Kriisi,  so  many  years  the  fellow-laborer  of  Pestalozzi.  "  Father,"  he 
wrote  to  Pestalozzi,  u  my  time  of  enjoying  your  presence  is  past.  I 
must  leave  your  institution,  as  it  is  now  conducted,  if  I  am  not 


IOQ  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

forever  to  !«•>».•  mv  courage  and  strength  to  live  tor  you  and  your  work. 
F<>r  all  that  you  were  to  me,  and  all  that  I  was  able  to  be  to  you,  I 
thank  God ;  for  all  my  shortcomings,  I  pray  God  and  yourself  to 
forgive  me. 

At  length,  in  1817,  Niederer  also  separated  from  the  institution  ; 
Pestalozzi  tried  in  vain  the  following  year  to  reconcile  him  with 
Schmid.  Both  of  them  acknowledged  Pestalozzi  as  their  master,  and 
yet  the  reconciliation  was  impossible.  They  were  too  much  opposed 
to  each  other,  not  merely  in  natural  endowments,  but  in  their  aim  ami 
object,  in  the  educational  idea  which  each  endeavored  to  realize  in  the 
institution. 

Niederer  saw  in  Pestalozzi  a  man  who  had  grasped  with  instinctive 
profundity  the  subject  of  human  culture,  but  had  given  only  a  frag- 
mentary view  of  it,  and  who  could  not  control  the  ideas  which,  as  it 
were,  possessed  him.  Niederer  felt  himself  called  to  control  tin -in 
philosophically — to  build  up  out  of  those  mighty  educational  fragments 
a  complete  systematic  theory. 

At  first,  Pestalozzi  could  not  comprehend  him,  not  understanding 
his  philosophical  language.  At  a  later  period,  Pestalozzi  saw  in  him 
the  one  man  in  the  institution,  who,  standing  on  the  pinnacle  of  Ger- 
man culture,  was  fitted  to  assign  to  the  new  method  its  proper  place 
in  the  region  of  human  culture  generally.  Only  by  such  a  man,  he 
thought,  could  the  educated  world,  especially  Germany,  be  won  over 
to  his  educational  plans ;  by  such  a  man  must  his  Swiss  idiom  be 
translated  into  an  intelligible  high  German.  Nay,  for  some  time  he 
even  thought  that  Niederer  understood  him  better  than  he  understood 
himself. 

Niederer  was  deficient  in  the  practical  skill  requisite  for  carrying  out 
his  educational  theory,  as  he  himself  frequently  acknowledged.  His 
intention  in  the  institution  was  more  to  observe  the  results  of  the 
practical  talent  at  work  there,  and  in  this  manner  to  learn  what  he 
could,  but  at  the  same  time  to  see  that  all  the  teachers  wrought 
together  with  one  mind  toward  one  and  the  same  object — the  realiza- 
tion of  the  educational  theory. 

No  wonder  that  Pestalozzi,  as  he  again  and  again  affirmed,  did  not 
feel  himself  attracted  by  Niederer's  peculiar  character,  even  at  times 
when  the  two  men  stood  in  a  very  friendly  relation  toward  each  other ; 
and  just  as  little  need  we  wonder  that  the  old  man  subsequently- 
dissolved  a  connection,  which  had  been  formed  by  his  will  rather  than 
his  inclination. 

But  how  entirely  different  was  his  relation  to  Schmid  !     u  Inexpli 
•caple  feelings,"  he  says,  "  drew  me  toward  him  from  the  moment  of 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  107 

liis  appearance  in  our  circle,  as  I  have  never  felt  myself  drawn  toward 
any  oth«-r  pupil."  Pestalozzi  writes  characteristically:  "I  must  trace 
from  its  origin  the  strength  which  alone  appeared  capable  of  holding 
us  together  in  this  unhappy  state."  This  personified  strength  was  no 
other  than  the  shepherd  boy  Schmid,  who  had  migrated  from  the 
Tyrolese  mountains  to  Burgdorf.  Pestalozzi  says  that  he  soon  left  his 
teachers  behind  him.  "  By  his  practical  talent  and  incessant  activity," 
continues  Pestulo/zi,  "  he  soared  above  the  influence  of  every  other 
person  in  the  house.  I  did  not  conceal  that  I  looked  upon  the  strength 
of  this  pupil,  though  still  so  young,  as  the  main  stay  of  my  house." 
Pestalozzi  characterizes  Schmid  in  the  same  way  in  an  address  which 
he  delivered  in  the  year  1818.  "  T  will  not,"  he  says,  "  make  more 
of  him  than  he  is  to  me.  I  know  him.  He  has  a  natural  power 
which,  in  its  artlessness,  penetrates  where  much  art  has  often  before 
my  own  eyes  failed  to  enter.  Schmid  threw  a  hard  shell  about  the 
kernel  of  my  vanishing  labors,  and  saved  me." 

Niederer  also  acknowledged  in  the  fullest  measure,  the  ability  and 
activity  of  Schmid.  Like  Pestalozzi,  Niederer  saw  in  him  a  most 
indefatigable  teacher  of  mathematics  and  drawing,  who,  by  his  ex- 
ample, as  well  as  by  severe  censure,  could  incite  the  remaining  teach- 
ers to  conscientious  activity  ;  he  also  saw  in  him  a  man  who,  being  a 
pupil  of  Pestalozzi,  was  regarded  as  one  of  the  fruits  of  the  method, 
and  who  consequently  impressed  foreign  visitors  with  a  favorable  idea 
of  it.  Thus  it  came  that,  in  the  year  1814,  he  hoped  every  thing  from 
a  reconciliation  with  Schmid.  But  how  deceived  he  found  himself, 
when  Pestalozzi  gave  into  Schmid's  hands  the  sceptre  over  the  entire 
institution. 

Blochmann,  too,  in  his  complaint,  acknowledges  Schmid's  "activity, 
perseverance,  endurance,  punctuality,  administrative  ability,  his  meri- 
torious services  in  establishing  greater  order  in  the  institution,  his 
skill  in  teaching  the  elementary  branches  of  mathematics — a  rare 
talent."  All  these  were  qualities  which  neither  Pestalozzi  nor  Niederer 
possessed,  and  which,  therefore,  marked  out  Schmid  as  an  indispensa- 
ble member  of  the  staff  of  teachers.  But,  if  Blochmann  and  the 
other  teachers  who  signed  the  complaint  acknowledged  this,  why  did 
they  press  for  Schmid's  removal  ?  Because,  they  answer,  in  that 
document,  "  the  source  of  all  that  Schmid  does  is  complete  selfish- 
ness, ability  without  humility,  without  love,  without  self-denial,  sound- 
ing brass,  a  tinkling  cymbal,  and  Schmid  himself  is  wise  as  the  serpent, 
^ut  not  harmless  as  the  dove." 

In  a  letter,  (19th  March,  1818,)  to  Pestalozzi,  Niederer  reproaches 
him  with  having  overrated  the  ability  of  Schmid,  and  ability  generally. 


108  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

"Ruin,"  he  says,  "entered  your  institution,  when,  dazzled  and  led 
away  by  individual  instances  of  brilliant  talents  and  results,  you 
ceased  to  bestow  any  particular  attention  on  that  which  by  its  nature 
can  work  only  in  silence,  although  it  stands  higher  than  talent,  and 
alone  can  render  the  development  of  talent  possible ;  when  you  be- 
gan so  to  act  as  if  you  owed  every  thing  to  that  with  which  you  could 
make  a  display,  and  nothing  to  that  which  was  not  suited  to  this  pur- 
pose. Under  this  fundamental  error,  I  say  more,  under  this  funda- 
mental injustice,  the  mathematical  side  of  the  method  and  the  insti- 
tution was  made  prominent,  as  if  that  singly  and  solely  were  the 
essence  of  the  method  and  the  salvation  of  humanity.  Low  and 
«>ii<'-siJed  qualities  were  honored  at  expense  of  the  higher  ones. 
The  qualities  of  good  temper,  fidelity,  love,  if  they  were  not  joined 
with  those  external  qualities,  were  slighted  and  depreciated  in  the 
persons  in  whom  they  existed.  In  the  kind  of  praise  which  you 
u'ave  to  the  manual  dexterity  of  utterly  inexperienced  youths  in 
particular  department-,  you  placed  this  dexterity  above  intelligence, 
knowledge  and  experience." 

Let  us  now  return  to  the  history  of  the  institution. 

In  the  Easter  of  1816,  M.  Jullien,  already  mentioned,  came  to 
Yverdun,  bringing  twenty-four  pupils  with  him  from  France ;  but, 
annoyed,  it  is  said,  by  Schmid,  he  quitted  the  institution  the  very  next 
year. 

As  already  stated,  Niederer  separated  from  the  institution  in  1817, 
from  which  time  he  conducted  the  girls'  school  only,  in  company  with 
his  wife.  In  the  same  year,  a  most  ignominious  and  lamentable  law- 
suit, which  lasted  seven  years,  arose  concerning  the  pecuniary  affairs 
of  this  school,  between  Pestalozzi  and  Schmid,  on  one  side,  and 
Niederer,  on  the  other.  "It  was  in  July,  1817,"  says  Pestalozzi, 
"that  a  letter  referring  to  that  quarrel  suddenly  threw  me  into  a  state 
of  inward  rage,  which  was  accompanied  by  an  outbreak  of  real  de- 
lirium, and  placed  me  in  danger  of  completely  losing  my  reason,  and 
sinking  into  utter  insensibility."  Schmid  took  the  old  man  to  Blilet, 
on  the  Jura,  whose  cooling  heights  acted  wholesomely  on  the  endan- 
gered state  of  his  nerves.  There  he  poured  out  his  sufferings  in 
poems,  in  which  his  soul,  now  caught  in  the  trammels  of  the  most 
painful  and  ignoble  relations,  utters  with  wailing,  its  aspirations  after 
heavenly  freedom.  Here  is  one  of  those  poems  : — 

Fair  bow,  that  smil'st  amid  the  storm, 
Thoutellest  of  the  bliss  of  God  1 
With  those  soft  beams  of  many  hues, 
0  shine  in  this  afflicted  heart 
Amid  its  wild  and  life-long  storm  1 


UFE  AND  ElHT.vnoNAI,  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  ]^ 

Tell  me  of  brighter  morn  to  come, 

0  tell  me  of  a  better  day, 

Fair  bow,  that  joinest  earth  to  heav'nl 

Through  all  the  dark  and  stormy  days, 
The  Lordluith  b»vn  a  rock  to  me, 
My  soul  shall  praise  His  holy  name 
Must  I  be  call'd  from  this  fair  earth, 
Ere  thou  appeaivst  in  my  heart, 
And  bringest  with  thee  heavenly  joys 
And  that  long  wished  for  better  day : 
Must  I  drink  out  the  bitter  cup — 
The  cup  of  fierce  contending  strife 
And  enmity  not  reconciled — 
Till  I  have 'drained  the  deepest  dregs: 
Must  I  from  hence  depart, 
Ere  peace,  the  peace  I  seek,  is  found? 

1  own  my  burthen  of  offense, 
My  many  weaknesses  I  own, 
And  with  affection  and  with  tears, 
All  my  offenders  I  forgive  ; 

But  death  will  bring  me  peace, 

And  after  death's  long  night  of  rest, 

A  better  day  will  dawn  for  me ! 

Thou  herald  of  that  better  day, 

How  lovely  then  wilt  thou  appear 

Above  my  still  and  lonesome  grave : 

Fair  bow  that  shin'st  like  Hope  through  tears. 

Like  snow  new  fallen  on  the  ground, 
Like  those  bright  flakes  of  winter-tide 
Which,  beaming  lovely  in  the  sun, 
Sank  into  that  new  open'd  gravo, 
Where  lay  the  partner  of  my  days : 
Fair  bow,  that  shin'st  with  heaven's  light, 
Thus  lovely,  in  the  hour  of  death, 
Do  thou  appear  once  more  to  me. 
Through  all  the  dark  and  stormy  days, 
The  Lord  hath  been  a  rock  to  me ! 
My  soul  shall  praise  his  holy  name ! 

An  attempt,  which  Pestalozzi  made  in  1817,  to  enter  into  connec- 
tion with  Fellenberg,  was  unsuccessful.  In  1818,  Schniid  made  ar 
arrangement  with  Cotta,  (the  great  Leipsig  publisher,)  for  the  publica- 
tion of  a  complete  edition  of  Pestalozzi's  works ;  subscriptions  to  a 
considerable  amount  soon  flowed  in.  The  emperor  of  Russia  sub- 
scribed 5,000  roubles  ;  the  king  of  Prussia,  400  dollars ;  the  king  of 
Bavaria,  700  guilders.  Thereupon,  Pestalozzi's  hopes  revived.  In 
a  remarkable  address,  already  mentioned,  which  he  delivered  on  his 
seventy-third  birth-day,  the  12th  of  January,  1818,  he  stated  that  he 
should  appropriate  to  educational  purposes,  50,000  French  livres, 
-which  the  subscription  would  yield. 

In  the  same  address,  Pestalozzi  speaks  freely  on  the  subject  of  his 
relations  to  Niederer  and  Schmid,  and  justifies  himself  for  having 
separated  from  the  former  and  joined  with  the  latter.  He  hits 
•off  Niederer  admirably  when  he  says  :  "  I  am  conscious  of  a  high  and 


T  V")  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZ! 

fervent  love  for  him.  Only  he  should  not  require  me  to  value  in. 
him  what  I  do  not  understand  ;  he  should  ascribe  it  to  the  weakness 
of  my  head,  not  to  the  hardness  of  my  heart,  if  I  fail  to  do  so,  and 
should  not  on  that  account  pronounce  me  ungrateful.  But  what  shall 
I  say  ?  Here  lies  the  very  ground  of  complaint  against  rne,  namely,, 
that  I  am  no  longer  capable  of  following  the  spirit  of  my  endeavors, 
and  that  through  my  incapacity,  I  cripple  and  destroy  the  strength  of 
those  who  are  further  advanced  in  that  spirit  than  myself.  It  is- 
an  old  complaint,  that  my  spirit  has  left  me ;  that  I  have  outlived  my- 
self, and  that  the  truth  and  the  right  of  my  labors  have  passed  from, 
mine  into  other  hands.  I  know  well,  also,  and  I  feel  it  deeply,  that  I 
do  not  possess,  in  the  least  degree,  some  qualifications  which  are  es- 
sential to  the  furtherance  of  my  views  ;  on  the  other  hand  I  know 
just  as  certainly,  that  all  those  qualifications  which  I  formerly  pos- 
sessed, I  still  feel  myself  to  possess  in  some  vitality,  and  with  an 
impulse  to  apply  them  to  use." 

Of  this  the  address  affords  sufficient  proofs ;  I  will  quote  some 
passages. 

"  Man  has  a  conscience.  The  voice  of  God  speaks  in  every  man,  and  leaves  no 
one  unconvinced  as  to  what  is  good,  and  what  bad ;  what  is  right  and  what 
wrong." 

"  Contemplate  man  in  the  entire  range  of  his  development.  See,  he  grows, 
he  is  educated,  he  is  trained.  He  grows  by  the  strength  of  his  own  self;  lie 
grows  by  the  strength  of  his  very  b«-inir.  lie  is  educated  by  accident,  by  the 
accidental  that  lies  in  his  condition,  in  his  circumstances,  and  in  his  relations. 
He  is  trained  by  art  and  by  the  will  of  man.  The  growth  of  man  and  his  pow- 
ers is  God's  doing.  It  proceeds  according  to  eternal  and  divine  laws.  The  edu- 
cation of  man  is  accidental  and  dependent  on  the  varying  circumstance's  in  which 
a  man  finds  himself  placed.  The  training  of  man  is  moral.  Only  by  the  ac- 
cordance of  the  influences  of  education  and  training  with  the  eternal  laws  of 
human  growth  is 'man  really  educated  and  trained;  by  contradiction  betwee_ 
the  means  of  his  education  and  training  and  those  eternal  laws,  man  is  mis- 
educated  and  mis-trained." 

Pestalozzi  gives  a  striking  delineation  of  the  contrast  between  the 
old  time  and  the  new. 

"The  time  in  which  we  live,  is  really  a  time  of  excessive  artificial  refinement, 
in  contradistinction  to  a  high  and  pure  sense  of  innocence,  love,  and  faith,  and 
that  powerful  attachment  to  truth  and  right  which  springs  from  these  virtues. 
"Who  among  us,  if  he  be  not  an  alien  that  neither  knows  the  present  time  and 
its  spirit,  nor  has  searched  into  the  tune  of  our  fathers  and  its  spirit,  but  must 
acknowledge  that  the  time  of  our  fathers  was  a  better  time,  their  spirit  a  better 
spirit ;  that  their  sincerity  of  purpose  had  its  foundations  laid  immeasurably 
deeper,  in  the  religion  of  the  heart,  in  strong  earnestness  in  domestic  and  civil 
life,  and  in  the  daily  exercise  of  industry  in  the  good  works  of  a  simple  and  sat- 
isfying professional  life,  than  can  possibly  be  the  case  in  our  paralysing  refine- 
ment of  the  powers  of  body  and  soul.  Our  fathers  were  cheerful,  reasonable, 
and  benevolent,  in  all  simplicity.  Their  circumstances  were  peculiarly  fitted  to  • 
lead  them  daily  and  hourly  in  all  innocence,  in  faith,  and  in  love,  to  be  good- 
tempered,  reflective,  and  industrious ;  but  our  artificial  refinement  has  rendered 
us  disgusted  with  our  fathers'  mode  of  life,  and  with  the  sources  of  their  moral, 
domestic,  and  political  elevation.  We  have  almost  entirely  departed  from  their 
spirit  arid  their  mode  of  life.  But  it  is  for  this  reason  that  we  have  sunk  so  low 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZ/a.  j  j| 

in  respect  to  the  education  of  the  people.  "We  have  the  semblance  of  faith,  love,, 
and  wisdom,  but  not  the  qualities  themselves ;  and  we  live  in  a  delusion,  really 
without  the  virtues  of  our  fathers,  while  they,  though  possessing  those  virtues, 
were  by  no  means  satisfied  with  themselves,  as  we  are.  The  good  and  pious 
foundation  which  our  fathers  had  in  their  mode  of  life  itself  for  their  views,  feel- 
ings, opinions,  and  usages  generally,  and  particularly  in  respect  to  the  training 
of  children  and  the  relief  of  the  poor,  has  sunk  under  our  feet  through  the  de- 
ception of  our  present  artificial  and  frivolous  mode  of  life.  We  are  no  longer 
what  we  were,  and  we  have  even  lost  the  feeling  that  we  ought  to  become 
again  in  spirit  and  in  truth  what  we  were.  While  we  praise  our  fathers  with 
our  mouths,  we  are  in  heart  far  from  them,  and  in  our  doings  we  stand  at  the 
very  antipodes  of  them.  We  have  substituted  for  their  ability  to  do  what  was 
necessary,  and  their  ignorance  of  what  was  useless,  a  large  acquaintance  with 
what  is  useless  and  an  inability  to  do  what  is  necessary.  Instead  of  their 
healthy  spirit,  well  exercised  in  mother- wit,  we  have  forms,  not  so  much  of 
thinking  as  of  verbal  expressions  about  what  has  been  thought,  which  suck  the 
blood  out  of  good  sense,  like  a  marten  that  fixes  itself  upon  the  neck  of  a  poor 
dove.  We  no  longer  know  our  neighbors,  our  fellow  citizens,  or  even  our  poor 
relations ;  but  we  make  up  for  it  by  reading  the  newspapers  and  periodicals,  by 
learning  the  genealogical  register  of  the  kings  of  the  world,  the  anecdotes  of 
courts,  of  the  theatre,  and  of  capital  cities,  and  we  raise  ourselves  to  a  daily 
change  in  our  political  and  religious  opinions,  as  in  our  clothes,  running,  on  one 
side,  from  infidelity  to  capucinade,  and  from  capucinade  to  infidelity,  just  as,  on 
the  other  side,  we  run  from  sans-cullottism  to  tight-lacing  and  leading  strings. 
Our  fathers  cultivated  a  general,  simple,  and  powerful  intellect ;  but  few  of  them 
troubled  themselves  with  researches  into  higher  truths,  which  are  difficult  to 
fathom :  we  do  very  little  indeed  toward  rendering  ourselves  capable  of  cultiva- 
ting a  general  and  profound  spirit  of  thought  and  research :  but  we  all  learn  to 
talk  a  great  deal  about  sublime  and  almost  unfathomable  truths,  and  strive  very 
zealously  to  get  to  read  the  results  of  the  profoundest  thinking  in  the  popular 
descriptions  of  almanacs  and  daily  pamphlets,  and  to  put  them  into  the  mouth 
of  people  generally.  Among  our  fathers,  every  honest  man  sought  to  do  one 
thing  well  at  least,  namely,  the  work  of  his  calling,  and  every  man  might  with  honor 
learn  every  trade ;  now  our  notables  are  mostly  born  to  their  callings.  Num- 
berless individuals  are  ashamed  of  the  rank  and  profession  of  their  fathers,  and 
believe  themselves  to  be  called  to  pry  into  and  carp  at  the  professional  knowl- 
edge of  all  ranks ;  and  the  habit  of  prating  about  all  professions  and  discharg- 
ing one's  own  imperfectly  is  becoming  more  general  every  day,  among  both  the 
notable  and  unnotable  men  of  our  time.  All  spirit  of  political  strength  has  fled 
from  amongst  us.  In  the  present  state  of  society  we  no  longer  ask  what  we 
really  are,  but  what  we  possess  and  what  we  know,  and  how  we  may  set  out 
all  our  possessions  and  knowledge  for  show,  put  them  up  for  sale,  and  barter 
them  for  the  means  of  feasting  ourselves,  so  that  we  may  tickle  our  palates 
with  the  refined  enjoyments  of  all  the  five  divisions  of  the  globe,  whose  appe- 
tites must  by  such  conduct  be  almost  inevitably  engendered  in  us.  And  when 
we  have  in  this  way  succeeded  in  rendering  ourselves  powerless  and  degraded 
in  body  and  soul,  in  respect  to  the  pure  claims  of  the  humanity  of  our  nature, 
and  of  the  eternal  and  divine  essence  which  lies  at  its  foundation, — then,  in  the 
state  of  debility  and  giddiness  into  which  the  fever  has  thrown  us,  we  further 
seek  to  force  up  the  appearance  of  a  character  whose  truth  and  purity  we  en- 
tirely lack.  In  this  state,  we  seek  to  cover  over  the  outward  appearances  of 
our  debility  and  desolation  by  a  violent  employment  of  the  means  of  adjustment 
and  concealment,  which  kill  heart  and  spirit  and  humanity ;  and  verily  we  have 
sunk  to  the  employment  of  such  means  in  many  matters  connected  with  the  ed- 
ucation of  the  people  and  the  relief  of  the  poor.  Thus  it  is  that  we  kill,  in 
ourselves,  the  very  essence  of  the  powers  of  the  soul,  those  human  gifts  divine ; 
and  then,  when  a  shadow  of  the  powers  which  we  have  killed  flutters  in  usr 
we  ornament  the  works  of  its  fluttering  with  golden  frames,  and  hang  them  up 
in  splendid  apartments,  whose  shining  floors  are  unable  to  bear  any  of  the  good 
works  of  the  ordinary  life  of  man." 

In  another  place,  Pestalozzi  says :  "  The  gardener  plants  and  waters, 
V»ut  God  giveth  the  increase."     It  is  not  the  educator  that  implants 


1)2  MFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

any  faculty  in  man  ;  it  is  not  the  educator  that  gives  breath  and  lif»» 
to  any  faculty  :  he  only  takes  care  that  no  external  influence  shall 
fetter  and  disturb  the  natural  course  of  the  development  of  man's  in- 
dividual faculties.  "The  moral,  the  spiritual,  and  the  artistic 
capabilities  of  our  nature  must  grow  out  of  themselves,  and  by  no 
means  out  of  the  results  produced  by  art,  which  has  been  mixed  up 
with  their  education.  Faith  must  be  called  forth  again  by  faith,  and 
not  by  the  knowledge  of  what  is  believed ;  thinking  must  be  called 
forth  again  by  thinking,  and  not  by  the  knowledge  of  what  is  thought, 
or  of  the  laws  of  thinking ;  love  must  be  called  forth  again  by  loving, 
and  not  by  the  knowledge  of  what  is  loveable  or  of  love  itself;  and  art 
must  be  called  forth  again  by  ability,  and  not  by  endless  talk  about 
ability." 

The  reader  can  judge  from  the  passages  just  cited  whether  any  de- 
gree of  youthful  freshness  still  lingered  in  the  mind  and  heart  of  the 
<»ld  man  of  seventy-three. 

l^vl  But  his  "  unrivaled  incapacity  to  govern,"  as  he  himself  calls  it, 
did  not  forsake  him.  He  established  a  poor  school  in  1818  at  Clindy, 
in  the  vicinity  of  Yverdun ;  a  commencement  was  made  with  twelve 
boys.  "They  were  to  be  brought  up  as  poor  boys,"  says  Pestalozzi, 
"and  receive  that  kind  of  instruction  and  training  which  is  suitable 
for  the  poor."  But  after  a  short  time,  children  were  admitted  to  board 
in  the  establishment,  at  a  fee  of  twelve  louis  d'or  per  annum  ;  and  in 
a  few  months  the  number  of  these  pupils  rose  to  thirty.  It  may  be 
easily  imagined  that  the  presence  of  paying  boarders  would  of  itself 
destroy  the  character  of  the  place  as  a  school  for  the  poor.  But  this 
result  was  occasioned  in  a  still  higher  degree  by  some  remarkably 
stupid  experiments  in  teaching.  An  Englishman,*  of  the  name 
of  Greaves,  visited  Yverdun  in  1819;  he  offered  to  teach  these  poor 
Swiss  children  English  without  remuneration,  and  his  offer  was  ac- 
cepted. On  this  step  Pestalozzi  himself  remarks:  "This  created  an 
impression,  which,  considering  the  original  destination  of  these  chil- 
dren, led  us  very  far  astray."  To  the  instruction  in  English  was 
added  soon  after  instruction  in  French  and  Latin.  Pestalozzi  sny<. 
the  poor  children  had  made  extraordinary  progress  in  the  elementary 
subjects.  He  adds,  nevertheless,  "  I  had  no  longer  an  establishment 
for  the  poor ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  two  scientific  ones,  which  I  could 
not  now  allow  to  remain  separated.  Thus  the  so-called  poor  school 
at  Clindy  was  amalgamated  with  the  institution  at  Yverdun."  Ac- 
cording to  Pestalozzi's  account,  the  poor  scholars  were  "models 

*  A  second  Englishman  entered  the  establishment  the  same  year,  as  the  religious  instructor 
of  the  English  pupils  who  had  been  admitted.  Later.  "  above  half  a  dozen  poor  children  " 
were  even  sent  from  England  to  the  school ! 


UFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF   PESTALOZZI.  j^g 

worthy  of  imitation "  to  the  pupils  of  the  institution,  especially  in 
their  acquirements.  Many  of  them  were  employed  as  teachers. 
"  The  instruction  which  was  given  by  the  pupils  of  our  poor  school, 
(says  li.-j  \\.-is  preferred,  on  account  of  its  solid  and  natural  character 
to  that  of  the  most  accomplished  among  the  elder  teachers  of  our 
house."  (!)  They  threw  their  strength  chiefly  into  arithmetic  and 
geometry.  Is  it  to  be  wondered  at,  that  these  poor  children  soon 
began  to  place  themselves  on  a  level  with  the  children  of  the  institu- 
tion, and  liked  playing  with  them  out  of  school  hours  better  than 
chopping  wood  and  carting  manure  ; — that,  instructed  in  three  foreign 
languages,  they  did  not  like  the  idea  of  becoming  masters  of  poor 
schools,  and  of  having  learnt  Latin  to  no  purpose? 

Pestalozzi  acknowledged,  when  it  was  too  late,  "  that  the  estab- 
lishment had  taken  such  a  direction  that  it  was  no  longer  to  be 
looked  upon  as  a  poor  school,  but  as  a  school  for  imparting  the  ele- 
ments of  a  scientific  education."  The  particular  reason  of  the  failure 
had  b.M-n  ''that  these  children  were  led  into  acquirements,  habits, 
pretensions,  dreams,  and  appetites,  which  did  not  suit  the  character 
of  their  original  destination,  and  even  tended  to  unfit  them  for  it." 

Pestalozzi's  unhappy  disputes  with  Niederer  and  others  went  on 
uninterruptedly  during  this  time.  At  last  a  reconciliation  was 
brought  about  through  the  noble  exertions  of  deputy  governor  Du 
Thou.  On  the  31st  of  December,  1823,  Niederer  wrote  an  apology 
to  Schmid  in  the  name  of  Kriisi  and  himself,  in  which,  at  the  same 
time,  it  was  said  that  any  future  dispute  should  be  settled  by  an  arbiter. 

Unfortunately,  newspapers  and  controversial  writings  of  those 
years  have  made  the  public  only  too  well  acquainted  with  this  dis- 
pute. Pestalozzi's  worst  enemies  could  not  have  conceived  any  thing 
that  would  have  been  more  calculated  to  damp  the  public  enthusiasm 
for  him. 

Who  would  like  to  undertake  the  task  of  placing  before  readers 
the  details  of  these  unfortunate  occurrences,  especially  when  it  is  con- 
sidered that  they  almost  exclusively  concerned  private  interests  ?  On 
February  1st,  1823,  Pestalozzi  wrote  to  Niederer  a  conciliatory  letter, 
which  shines  forth  in  the  midst  of  this  lawsuit  like  a  brilliant  gem 
out  of  the  mire.  I  give  the  following  passage  from  this  letter  with 
pleasure : — 

"  DEAR  MR.  NIEDEREK,* — Call  to  mind  what  we  once  hoped  from  each  other 
and  what  we  were  to  each  other.  I  would  again  hope  from  you  what  I  formerly 
hoped,  and  I  would  again  be  to  you  what  I  formerly  was.  But  we  must  make 
the  way  to  this  possible  for  each  other;  we  must  help  each  other  to  clear  the 
way  to  it,  each  from  the  point  on  which  he  stands.  Let  us  do  this.  Above  all, 

'  In  November,  1824,  the  lawsuit  which  has  been  mentioned  was  terminated  by 
Arbitration. 

8 


]  14  UFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI 

let  us,  without  circumlocution  and  without  condition,  forgive  each  other,  and 
unite  with  a  pure  intention  in  true  love,  in  true  friendship,  and  in  an  under- 
taking which  will  be  for  our  mutual  happiness.  Niederer,  become  agi»in  as  far 
as  you  can  my  old  Niederer — such  as  you  were  twenty  years  ago.  Madame- 
Niederer,  be  also  to  me  again  something  of  what  you  were  then.  I  will  readily 
l-e  t<>  both  of  you  again,  as  far  as  I  can.  what  I  then  was.  How  I  long  for  the- 
time  when  our  hearts  shall  bring  us  to  ourselves  again,  and  when,  in  the  path 
<>f  ival  self-knowledge  we  shall  attain  to  love,  which  is  equally  our  duty  a< 
Christians,  and  the  pressing  need  of  our  condition.  Oh!  Niederer,  how  I  long 
for  the  time  when  strengthened  and  sanctified  by  this  renewed  love,  we  shall  be- 
able  to  go  once  more  to  the  Holy  Sacrament,  when  the  festival  comes  round, 
without  having  to  fear  that  the  entire  commune  in  which  we  live,  scandalix.ed 
by  our  conduct,  will  shudder  at  our  coming  to  the  Lord's  table,  and  will  cast 
upon  us  looks  of  indignation  as  well  as  pity.  Oh  !  Niederer,  the  path  of  this 
renewed  love  is  the  only  one  which  will  lead  to  true  honor,  as  it  is  also  the  only 
one  which  will  lead  to  the  restoration  of  a  lost  semblance  of  honor.  Oh! 
Niederer,  think  not  that  the  tricks  and  chicanery  of  law  can  ever  bring  us  to  the 
pinnacle  of  honor  to  which  we  can  raise  ourselves  by  the  restoration  of  our  love. 
My  old  friend,  let  us  make  clean  the  inside  of  the  platter,  before  we  trouble 
ourselves  about  the  false  glitter  of  the  outside." 

These  lamentable  lawsuits  had  naturally  the  worst  influence  on  the 
hybrid  institution.  Pestalozzi  felt  this  most  painfully,  and  thought 
that  his  poor  school  would  succeed,  if  he  could  only  transfer  it  from 
unlucky  Yverdun  to  Neuhof,  in  the  canton  of  Argovia — the  same 
Neuhof  where,  many  years  before,  he  had  made  his  first  important  edu- 
cational experiments.  He  had  a  new  house  built  there  for  the  purpose. 

Each  of  the  poor  children  who  had  been  admitted  into  the  school 
had  bound  himself  toremainin  it  five  years,  from  1818  till  1823.  The 
five  years  ran  out.  Pestalozzi  confidently  hoped  that  many  of  these 
children  would  follow  him  to  Neuhof,  and  form  the  nucleus  of  the 
new  establishment.  But  not  one  remained.  As  I  have  already 
remarked,  they  had  imbibed  grander  ideas  from  the  instruction  which 
they  had  enjoyed,  and  they  sought  to  make  their  fortune  in  other 
ways.  "  They  considered  it,"  says  Pestalozzi,  "  beneath  their  dignity 
to  be  appointed  teachers  in  a  Pestalozzian  poor  school  at  Neuhof.'* 
When  at  last  even  a  favorite  pupil  of  his  rejected  all  his  offers,  and 
went  away  clandestinely  from  Yverdun,  the  old  man's  heart  was  full. 
"The  illusion,  in  my  mind,"  he  says,  "as  to  the  possibility  of  trans- 
planting to  Neuhof  an  establishment  in  Yverdun  of  which  not  an 
inch  was  in  reality  any  longer  mine,  was  now  entirely  dispelled.  To 
resign  myself  to  this  conviction,  required  me  to  do  no  less  than  aban- 
don all  my  hopes  and  aims  in  regard  to  this  project,  as  for  me  com- 
pletely unattainable.  I  did  so  at  last,  and  on  March  17th,  1824,  I 
announced  my  total  inability  further  to  fulfill  the  expectations  and 
hopes  which  I  had  excited,  by  my  projected  poor  school,  in  the  hearts 
of  so  many  philanthropists  and  friends  of  education." 

At  length,  in  the  year  1825,  Pestalozzi  also  broke  up  the  institution, 
after  it  had  stood  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  ;  and  he  returned,  an  old 
man  of  eighty  years,  and  tired  of  life,  to  Neuhof,  where,  exactly  half 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  1^5, 

a  century  before,  he  had  begun  his  first  poor  school.  "  Verily,"  he 
says,  "  it  was  as  if  I  was  putting  an  end  to  my  life  itself  by  thi& 
return,  so  much  pain  did  it  give  me." 

Pestalozzi  had  but  one  child,  a  son,  who  was  born  in  1770,  and  died 
at  the  early  age  of  twenty-four,  leaving  a  son  himself.*  This  grand- 
son of  Pestalozzi  was  in  possession  of  the  estate  of  Neuhof ;  to  him 
the  old  man  went. 

In  these  last  years  of  his  life,  he  wrote  the  "  Song  of  the  Dying 
Swan  "  and  the  "  Fortunes  of  my  Life."  He  looked  back  with  deep 
pain  on  so  many  shipwrecked  enterprises,  and  acknowledged  that  the 
blame  was  his,  as  the  wreck  had  been  brought  on  by  his  incompetency 
to  manage  the  helm.  He -speaks,  as  we  have  seen,  with  equal  candor 
of  his  fellow-workers. 

These  last  writings  of  Pestalozzi  have  been  regarded  by  many  as 
the  melancholy  and  languid  outpourings  of  the  heart  of  a  dying  old 
man.  As  far  as  concerns  the  old  man's  judgments  on  the  institution^ 
as  it  was  at  the  time  of  my  stay  at  Yverdun,  I  have  already  remarke.l 
that  I  consider  them  for  the  most  part  highly  truthful,  and  as  afford- 
ing evidence  that  he  was  not  deficient  in  manly  clearness  and 
penetration  even  in  his  old  age. 

In  May  of  the  year  1825,  he  was  elected  President  of  the  Helvetian, 
Society  of  Shinznach,  of  which  he  was  the  oldest  member.  The  fol- 
low ing  year  he  delivered  a  lecture  before  the  Education  Society  of 
Brugg,  on,  "  The  simplest  means  which  art  can  employ  to  educate 
the  child,  from  the  cradle,  jto  the  sixth  year,  in  the  domestic  circle." 
Thus  the  gentle  influence  of  home  education  remained  to  the  last  the 
object  of  his  love,  as  it  had  been  fifty-six  years  before,  when  he  wrote 
"Leonard  and  Gertrude." 

On  the  21st  of  July,  1826,  Pestalozzi,  in  company  with  Schmid. 
visited  the  establishment  of  the  excellent  Zeller  in  Bruggen.  The 
children  received  him  with  singing.  An  oak  wreath  was  handed  to 
him,  but  he  did  not  accept  it :  "  Not  to  me,"  he  said,  "  but  to 
Innocence  belongs  the  wreath."  The  children  sang  to  him  the 
song  by  Goethe  which  he  has  introduced  into  "  Leonard  and  Gertrude." 

Thou  art  from  highest  skies, 
Every  storm  and  sorrow  stilling ; 
Hearts  that  doubled  anguish  tries 
Doubly  with  thy  sweetness  filling ; 
On  the  wave  of  passion  driven, 
Oh,  how  longs  my  soul  for  rest ! 
Peace  of  Heaven 
Come,  oh  come  within  my  breast. 

Tears  choked  the  voice  of  the  old  man. 

•The  widow,  an  excellent  woman,  subsequently  married  a  Mr.  Kuster, and  remains 
attached  to  Pestalozzi  with  true  affection. 


116  MFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALC7SI 

From  his  youth,  Pestalozzi  had  been  weakly  in  constitution,  and  he 
had  repeatedly  suffered  severe  attacks  of  illness.  In  the  year  1806, 
he  was  suddenly  knocked  down  in  the  street  by  the  pole  of  a  carriage, 
and  trampled  under  foot  by  the  horses.  "  It  is  a  great  wonder,"  he 
said  in  an  address  on  New  Year's  Day,  1808,  ''that  I  was  saved  from 
under  the  horses'  feet.  See,  they  tore  the  clothes  from  off  my  back, 
but  did  not  touch  my  body." 

In  the  year  1812,  he  suffered  very  severely  for  a  long  time  from 
accidentally  running  a  knitting  needle  into  his  ear. 

But,  notwithstanding  slight  ailments  and  dangerous  accidents,  his 
life  was  prolonged  to  a  vn-y  advanced  age. 

At  length  he  approached  the  end  of  his  earthly  existence.  Some 
time  before  his  death,  he  said :  "  I  forgive  my  enemies ;  may  they 
find  peace  now  that  I  go  to  eternal  rest.  I  should  liked  to  have  lived 
another  month,  to  have  completed  my  last  labors;  but  I  again 
thank  God,  who  in  His  Providence  calls  me  away  from  this 
earthly  scene.  And  you,  my  children,  remain  in  quiet  attachment 
to  one  another,  and  seek  for  happiness  in  the  domestic  circle."  Soon 
after,  he  breathed  his  last.  He  had  lain  ill  only  a  few  days.  On  the 
15th  of  February,  1827,  he  had  been  removed  from  his  country 
house  to  the  town  of  Brugg,  in  order  that  he  might  be  nearer  to  his 
physician;  on  the  morning  of  the  17th  he  died,  after  violent  parox- 
ysms of  fever;  and  on  the  19th  he  was  buried.  His  corpse  was 
carried  past  the  new  poor  school  which  he  had  begun  to  build,  but 
could  not  complete,  and  was  interred  with,  a  quiet  and  modest  funeral 
service  at  the  village  of  Birr.  Few  strangers  attended  his  funeral, 
for  the  snow  lay  thick  on  the  ground,  and  his  interment  took  place 
sooner  than  might  have  been  expected ;  the  news  of  his  death  had 
scarcely  been  received  in  the  canton  of  Argovia.  Schoolmasters  and 
•children  from  the  surrounding  villages  sang  their  thanks  to  the 
•departed  in  artless  strains  over  his  grave.* 

Pestalozzi  rests  from  the  labors  of  his  toilsome  life. 

At  the  grave  a  Sabbath  stillness  sets  in ;  we  look  back  upon  the 
past,  but,  at  the  same  time,  we  look  forward  into  the  eternal  life  of 
the  departed,  and  ask  whether,  in  time,  he  seriously  prepared  himself 
for  eternity — whether  all  the  labors  of  his  life  were  done  in  the  Lord, 
and  whether  he  died  in  the  Lord. 

Not  as  severe  judges  do  we  ask,  but  in  all  the  humility  of  co- 
redeemed  sinful  fellow-men  ;  we  ask  with  the  fond  wish  that  he  may 
b«  blessed  eternally. 

•  Heussler. 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  j  17 

In  a  It-ttrr  written  in  the  year  1793,  Pestalozzi  says,  "Wavering 
b'-tWi-en/wfiM'/.v,  which  dn-w  me  toward  religion,  and  opinions,  which 
led  me  away  from  it,  I  went  the  dead  way  of  my  time  ;  I  let  the  es- 
sential part  of  religion  grow  cold  in  my  inmost  heart,  without  really 
deciding  against  religion." 

That  is  the  judgment  which  he  pronounced  upon  himself  in  his 
forty-eighth  year ;  at  the  time  of  Robespierre,  when  the  earthy  polit- 
ical element  reigned  to  such  a  degree  in  the  minds  of  men,  that  no 
quiet  abode  remained  for  the  religious  element. 

The  *•  Evening  Hour  of  a  Hermit,"  written  thirteen  years  earlier, 
when  the  world  was  more  tranquil,  and  as  yet  not  off  its  hinges,  con- 
tains passages  which  are  penetrated  with  true  Christian  unction.  T:> 
these  belongs  especially  the  concluding  passage  of  the  whole,  already 
quoted,  in  which  Pestalozzi  speaks  of  Christ  as  "the  Son  of  God, 
who  with  suffering  and  death  has  restored  to  mankind  the  universally 
lost  feeling  of  filial  love  toward  God — the  Redeemer  of  the  World 
— the  sacrificed  Priest  of  the  Lord — the  Mediator  between  God  and 
sinful  mankind  ;"  and  of  his  doctrine  as  "  the  revelation  of  God  the 
Father  to  the  lost  race  of  his  children." 

But  other  passages  of  this  paper,  enticing  as  they  sound,  are  at 
variance  with  essential  doctrines  of  Christianity.  Thus  the  one  in 
which  Pestalozzi  says,  "  Faith  in  God,  thou  art  the  pure  sense  of 
simplicity — the  ear  of  innocence  listening  to  the  voice  of  nature, 
which  proclaims  that  God  is  father." 

Where  is  the  ear  of  innocence  to  be  found  ?  The  Scripture  saith  : 
"  There  is  none  righteous,  no  not  one  :  There  is  none  that  understand- 
eth,  there  is  none  that  seeketh  after  God.  They  are  all  gone  out  of 
the  way,  they  are  together  become  unprofitable ;  there  is  none  that 
doeth  good,  no,  not  one."  (Romans  iii.,  10,  11,  12.) 

Where  is  the  ear  of  innocence  ?  If  it  were  to  be  found  among 
men,  then  it  might  certainly  hear  a  voice  of  nature,  proclaiming  that 
God  is  father.  In  that  case,  the  heathen  might  also  have  prayed, 
44  Our  Father.'*  But  nowhere  do  we  find  the  slightest  evidence  that 
til--  ancients  loved  their  gods,  not  to  say  God,  with  filial  love. 

And,  could  man  by  nature  love  God,  to  what  purpose  were  Christ 
th.-  restorer  of  the  lost  filial  love  of  mankind  ?  But  this  very  ex- 
pression itself  appears  to  me  to  be  almost  a  euphemism  for  "The 
I*ORD  hath  laid  on  him  the  iniquity  of  us  all."  (Isaiah  liii.,  6.) 

We  saw,  in  considering  the  book,  "  How  Gertrude  teaches  her 
Children,"  how  deep  an  influence  PestalozzPs  notion  of  the  innocence 
of  children  exercised  upon  his  educational  theory  ;  like  Rousseau,  he 
wanted  to  gather  fi^s  of  ?hi^tl«-<.  Did  he  retain  this  notion  to  the 
end  of  his  lif.-°  \\'c  shall  nn«wer  thi>  -mention  in  the  negative. 


I  tq  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI 

In  "  Leonard  and  Gertrude,"  all  the  stress  is  laid  upon  active  Chris- 
tianity, love  is  occasionally  placed  almost  in  opposition  to  faith  :  a 
dead,  hypocritical  faith  not  being  always  distinguished  with  sufficient 
•exactitude  from  true  faith,  which  is  active  in  love.  The  clergyman  in 
Leonard  and  Gertrude  is  an  honest  man,  but  strongly  inclined  to  mere 
moralizing ;  his  care  of  his  flock  is  more  that  of  a  faithful  personal 
friend,  than  of  one  acting  in  the  spirit  and  strength  of  a  church. 

In  the  "  Researches,"  Christianity  is  styled  a  religion  of  morality — 
an  effort  to  make  the  spirit  subdue  the  flesh.  If,  according  to  the  let- 
ter cited,  Pestalozzi  wavered  between  feelings,  which  drew  him  toward 
religion,  and  opinions,  which  led  him  away  from  it,  both  feeling  and 
Christianity  give  place,  in  the  work  just  mentioned,  to  this  belabored 
product  of  the  intellect. 

In  the  book,  "How  Gertrude  teaches  her  children,"  the  educa- 
tional theory  is,  as  we  have  seen,  extremely  weak  on  the  religious 
side ;  it  is  more  a  rhetorical  theory  of  intellectual  developments 
estranged  from  Christ. 

I'nit  in  this  book,  also,  Pestalozzi's  feelings  repeatedly  glances 
through ;  there  stand  forth  the  aim  and  yearning  desire  of  his  toil- 
some life,  the  depth  of  a  love  which  brought  upon  the  poor  helpless 
man  countless  sorrows  and  almost  drove  him  to  despair.  From  the 
depths  of  his  necessity,  he  then  cries  to  God,  praying,  hoping,  offering 
up  his  thanks :  "  Friend,"  he  writes  to  Gesner,  "  let  me  now  for  a 
moment  forget  my  aim  and  my  labors,  and  abandon  myself  entirely 
to  the  feeling  of  melancholy  which  comes  over  me,  when  I  remember 
that  I  still  live,  though  I  am  no  longer  myself.  I  have  lost  every 
thing,  I  have  lost  myself ;  nevertheless,  thou,  0  Lord,  hast  preserved 
in  me  the  desires  of  my  life,  and  hast  not  shattered  to  pieces  before 
my  eyes  the  aim  of  my  suffering,  as  thou  hast  shattered  the  aim  of 
thousands  of  men,  who  corrupted  themselves  in  their  own  ways. 
Thou  hast  preserved  to  me  the  work  of  my  life,  in  the  midst  of  my 
own  ruin,  and  hast  caused  to  arise  upon  me,  in  my  hopeless  declining 
age,  an  evening  brightness,  the  sight  of  whose  loveliness  outweighs 
the  sufferings  of  my  life.  Lord,  I  am  not  worthy  of  the  mercy  and 
faithfulness  which  thou  hast  shown  toward  me.  Thou,  thou  alon.-, 
hast  had  mercy  on  the  trampled  worm  ;  thou  alone  hast  not  broken 
the  bruised  reed  ;  thou  alone  hast  not  quenched  the  smoking  flax ; 
and  hast  not,  to  the  latest  period  of  my  life,  turned  away  thy  face 
from  the  offering,  which  from  childhood  I  have  desired  to  bring  to  the 
forsaken  in  the  land,  but  have  never  been  able  to  bring." 

Before  I  consider  the  religious  character  of  Pestalozzi's  later  works, 
T  will  first  look  at  that  of  his  institution.  It  is  best  delineated  bj 
Kam-auor.  Ho  entered  th«-  institution  at  Burgdorf  in  1800,  as 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 


119 


a  boy  of  ten  years  ;  he  left  it  at  the  age  of  twenty-six,  as  head  teach- 
er, when  he  went  from  Yverdun  to  Wiirzburg.  Thus  he  had,  both  as 
a  learner  and  as  a  teacher,  become  acquainted  with  the  religious  ten- 
dency of  the  institution.  When,  in  later  years,  the  deep  truth  and 
solemn  sanctity  of  Christianity  dawned  upon  his  awakened  conscience, 
which  impelled  him  to  self-knowledge,  then  first  did  he  learn  to  form 
a  just  estimate  of  that  religious  tendency.  He  narrates  as  follows: — 

"  In  Burgdorf,  an  active  and  entirely  new  mode  of  life  opened  to  me ;  there 
reigned  so  much  love  and  simplicity  in  the  institution,  the  life  was  so  genial — T 
could  almost  say  patriarchal ;  not  much  was  learned,  it  is  true,  but  Pestalozzi 
was  the  father,  and  the  teachers  were  the  friends  of  the  pupils ;  Pestalozzi's 
morning  and  evening  prayers  had  such  a  fervor  and  simplicity,  that  they  carried 
away  every  one  who  took  part  in  them ;  he  prayed  fervently,  read  and  ex- 
plained i;.-!l.-rt's  hymns  impressively,  exhorted  each  of  the  pupils  individually 
to  private  prayer,  and  saw  that  some  pupils  said  aloud  in  the  bedrooms,  every 
evening,  the  prayers  which  they  had  learned  at  home,  while  he  explained,  at 
the  same  time,  that  the  mere  repeating  of  prayers  by  rote  was  worthless,  and 
that  every  one  should  rather  pray  from  his  own  heart.  Such  exhortations 
became  more  and  more  rare  at  Yverdun,  and  the  praying  aloud  ceased  altogeth- 
er, like  so  much  else  that  had  a  genial  character,  "tt'e  all  felt  that  more  must 
be  learned  than  at  Burgdorf;  but  we  all  fell,  in  consequence,  into  a  restless 
pushing  and  driving,  and  the  individual  teachers  into  a  scramble  after  distinction. 
Pestalozzi,  indeed,  remained  the  same  noble-hearted  old  man,  wholly  forgetting 
himself,  and  living  only  for  the  welfare  of  others,  and  infusing  his  own  spirit 
into  the  entire  household ;  but,  as  it  arose  not  so  much  from  the  religious  ar- 
rangements and  from  Pestalozzi's  principles,  as  from  his  personal  character,  that 
so  genial  a  lit'"  '-ad  prevailed  at  Burgdorf  that  spirit  could  not  last  long,  it  could 
not  gain  strength  and  elevate  itself  into  a  Christian  spirit.  On  the  other  hand, 
so  long  as  the  institution  was  small,  Pestalozzi  could,  by  his  thoroughly  amiable 
personal  character,  adjust  at  once  every  slight  discordance  ;  he  stood  in  much 
closer  relation  with  every  individual  member  of  the  circle,  and  could  thus 
observe  every  peculiarity  of  disposition,  and  influence  it  according  to  necessity. 
This  ceased  when  the  family  life  was  transformed  in  the  institution  into  a  con- 
stitutional state  existence.  Now  the  individual  was  more  easily  lost  in  the 
crowd ;  thus  there  arose  a  desire,  on  the  part  of  each,  to  make  himself  felt  and 
noticed.  Egotism  made  its  appearance  every  day  in  more  pointed  forms.  Envy 
and  jealousy  rankled  in  the  breasts  of  many.  The  instruction,  calculated  only 
for  the  development  of  the  mind,  nourished  feelings  of  selfishness  and  pride ; 
and  the  counterpoise,  which  only  the  fear  of  God  could  have  given,  was  not 
known.  Instead  of  being  told  that  only  that  teacher  could  labor  with  God's 
blessing  who  had  attained  to  the  knowledge  and  the  belief  of  the  highest 
truths,  and  had  thus  come  to  see  that  he  was  nothing  of  himself  but  that  he 
had  to  thank  God  for  whatever  he  was  enabled  to  be  or  to  do,  and  that  every 
Christian,  but  especially  the  educator,  had  daily  cause  to  pray  to  God  for  pa- 
tience, love,  and  humility,  and  for  wisdom  in  doing  and  avoiding ;  instead  of  this, 
we  heard  day  after  day  that  man  could  do  every  thing  that  he  wished,  that  he 
could  do  every  thing  of  himself,  and  that  he  alone  could  help  himself.  Had  the 
otherwise  so  noble  Pestalozzi  made  the  Bible  the  foundation  of  all  moral  and 
religious  education,  I  verily  believe  that  the  institution  wquld  still  have  been  in 
existence,  even  as  those  institutions  are  still  in  existence  and  working  with  suc- 
cess which  were  founded  by  Franke,  upward  of  one  hundred  years  ago,  with 
small  means,  but  in  full  reliance  on  God.  But,  instead  of  making  the  pupils  fa- 
miliar with  the  Bible,  Pestalozzi,  and  those  of  his  assistants  who  gave  the 
so-called  religious  instruction,  or  conducted  the  so-called  morning  and  evening 
prayers,  fell  more  and  more  in  each  succeeding  year  into  a  mere  empty  moral- 
izing; and  hence  it  may  be  understood  how  it  could  happen  that  I  grew  up  in 
this  institution,  was  confirmed  there,  and  for  sixteen  years  led  a  very  active  and 
morally  good  life,  without  acquiring  even  the  slightest  acquaintance  with  the 
word  of  God.  I  did,  indeed,  many  a  time  hear  the  Bible  named,  and  even  heard 


120  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZ1. 

Pestalozzi  complain  that  nobody  read  it,  and  say  that  in  his  youth  things  had1 
been  better  in  this  respect ;  at  the  domestic  worship  on  Sundays,  and  during  my 
confirmation  instruction,  I  also  frequently  heard  individual  texts  read  and  arbi- 
trarily explained  ;  but  neither  I  nor  any  other  of  the  young  men  obtained  any 
idea  of  the  sacredness  and  connection  of  God's  word.  Just  as  Pestalo/./.i.  \>y  ih'c 
force  of  his  personal  character,  attached  most  of  his  assistants  to  himself  for 
years,  so  that  they  forgot  themselves  as  he  forgot  himself,  when  good  was  to  be 
done,  so  also,  and  much  more,  might  he  have  inspired  them  for  the  Gospel,  and 
the  blessing  of  God  would  then  have  rested  on  him  and  them,  and  the  institution 
would  have  become  a  Christian  seminary.  It  would  not  have  been  necessary 
on  this  account  to  hang  out  a  sign-board  with  the  words  "  Christian  Educational 
Institution,"  displayed  upon  it;  on  the  contrary,  the  more  quietly  and  modestly 
1'estaloxxi  and  his  assistants  had  conducted  themselves,  the  more  effectively 
would  they  have  worked,  and  even  the  most  noisy  blusterer  would  soon  have 
come  to  perceive  how  very  little  he  could  be  and  do  of  himself  and  thus  would 
have  become  capable  of  learning  something  from  strangers.  Perhaps  sonic  per- 
son or  other  may  be  disposed  to  reproach  me  with  one-sidedness,  injustice,  or 
even  ingratitude,  toward  Pestalozzi,  and  to  oppose  to  my  testimony  the  tact  that 
at  Yverdun  Pestalozzi  employed  every  Friday  morning  principally  in  represent- 
ing Jesus  to  us  as  the  great  exemplar  of  love  and  self  sacrifice ;  or  I  may  be 
asked  whether  I  have  quite  forgotten  the  zeal  with  which  Niederer  often  gave 
the  confirmation  instruction.  But,  in  reply  to  this,  I  can  only  refer  to  the  facts 
which  I  have  just  detailed." 

I  could  add  but  little  to  this  statement  of  Ramsauer.  When  I  was 
in  the  institution,  the  religious  instruction  was  given  by  Niederer,  but 
no  stranger  was  allowed  to  be  present  at  it.  We  may  form  a  tolera- 
bly correct  notion,  however,  of  the  manner  in  which  he  gave  it,  from 
what  is  said  on  the  subject  in  the  "  Report  to  the  Parents."* 

"  All  the  elder  pupils,  (says  the  report,)  receive  positive  religious  instruction 
twice  a  week.  The  guiding  thread  that  is  used  for  this  purpose  is  the  course  of 
the  religious  development  of  the  human  race,  as  described  in  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures, from  the  Mosaic  records  downward,  and,  based  on  this,  the  pure  doc- 
trines of  Jesus  Christ,  as  he  announced  them  in  his  Gospel.  We  base  the 
teaching  of  moral  duties  chiefly  on  Christ's  sermon  on  the  mount,  and  the  teach- 
ing of  doctrines  chiefly  on  St.  John's  Gospel.  The  latter  is  read  connectedly 
and  explained  from  itself  and  from  Christ's  eternal  fundamental  view  of  God  and 
of  himself  as  the  visible  image  and  representative  of  the  god-head  and  the  god- 
like, of  the  relation  of  mankind  to  God,  and  of  the  life  in  God.  We  seek,  by 
the  example  of  Christ,  and  by  the  manner  in  which  he  viewed  and  treated  men 
and  things  and  their  relations,  to  awaken  in  the  children  an  intuitive  leaning 
toward  the  life  and  conduct,  the  belief  and  hope,  which  are  founded  in  the  un- 
changeable nature  of  religion,  and  to  render  these  things  habitual  to  them,  and 
by  the  development  of  those  graces  through  which  the  Father  shone  in  Him,  to 
raise  them  to  such  a  mind  and  mode  of  life,  that  God  may  shine  in  them  also 
We  do  not  combat  religious  error,  but  endeavor  to  impart  only  religious  truth 
We  seek  the  ground  of  all  dogmas  and  the  source  of  all  religious  views  in  the 
nature  of  religion,  in  the  nature  of  man,  and  in  his  propensities,  powers, 
wants,  and  relations,  in  order  that  the  child  may  learn  to  distinguish  the  truth 
in  every  garb  and  the  substance  in  every  form.  The  course  pursued  for  the  at- 
tainment of  the  last-named  object,  or  the  elementary  religious  instruction,  pre- 
paratory to  the  positive  doctrines  of  revelation,  is  based  specially  on  the  solution 
of  the  following  questions :  1.  What  is  the  original  religious  capability  in  human 
nature,  or  what  are  the  elements  of  all  religious  development  and  education,  in 
so  far  as  they  exist  in  man  himself,  and  proceed  from  him  as  something  implanted 
in  him  by  God  ?  These  elements  are  perceptions  and  feelings.  2.  By  what 
means  and  in  what  manner  must  these  primitive  religious  perceptions  and  feel- 
ings necessarily  be  excited  and  brought  to  consciousness  in  him  ?  Here  it  is 
especially  the  relation  to  father  and  mother,  to  nature,  and  to  society,  that  is 

*  There  is  no  doubt  that  this  passage  is  from  Niederer's  pen. 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI.  ]O  j 

regarded  as  a  means  of  religious  excitation  and  education.  3.  By  what  means- 
and  in  what  manner  does  man  originally  and  necessarily  express  the  religious 
perceptions  and  feelings  excited  in  him  ?  And  to  what  does  all  this  lead  man  ? 
We  find  here  principally  the  expression  of  the  religious  disposition  as  a  gesture ; 
the  expression  of  the  religious  notion  as  a  word ;  the  expression  of  the  religious 
contemplation  as  an  image.  The  first  develops  itself  as  ceremony,  the  second 
as  instruction  and  doctrine,  the  last  as  symbol  and  image-worship.  With  the 
course  of  this  development  is  connected  the  development  of  what  utters  itself 
unchangeably  in  human  nature  as  veritable  and  eternal  religion,  every  where 
operative,  and  of  what,  as  sensual  degeneracy,  errors  of  the  passions,  and  person- 
al depravity,  leads  to  superstition  and  infidelity,  to  idolatry  and  image-worship, 
to  hypocritical  self-delusion  and  deception  of  others,  and  lastly,  to  the  contempt- 
uous rejection  of  all  that  is  divine  and  sacred.  The  pupil  finds  the  key  to  the 
clear  comprehension  of  this  in  the  intuitive  consciousness  of  the  awaking  and 
course  of  his  own  feelings,  in  the  impressions  which  things  make  on  his  own 
mind,  and  in  the  religious  arrangements  by  which  he  is  surrounded.  As  matter 
of  fact,  the  whole  is  exemplified  in  the  history  of  the  religious  culture  of  man- 
kind. The  indication  thereof,  or  the  thread  to  which  the  explanation  must  be 
attached,  in  giving  the  instruction,  exists  in  the  language  of  every  nation.  The 
most  important  results  to  be  accomplished  by  the  instruction  are :  That  the  pu- 
pil shall  lay  hold  of  the  true  and  the  eternal  in  their  origin ;  that  he  shall  look 
upon  the  human  race  as  essentially  religious,  and  as  an  organic  whole,  develop- 
ing itself  according  to  necessary  and  divine  laws ;  that,  understanding  also  in 
its  origin  and  in  its  consequences  the  fall  from  God  and  the  god-like,  he  shall  all 
the  more  earnestly  and  faithfully  follow  the  way  of  return  to  God  and  to  the  life 
in  Him.  so  that,  being  thus  prepared,  he  may  comprehend  the  worship  of  God 
in  spirit  and  in  truth"  the  significance  of  the  eternal  Gospel ;  so  that  he  may 
attain  to  an  inward  godly  existence,  as  he  lives  outwardly  in  an  intelligent 
existence." 

I  have  quoted  the  whole  of  this  passage,  because  it  shows  how  far 
the  religious  instruction  was  removed  from  all  believing  fervor  and 
childlike  simplicity,  from  Christian  simplicity,  as  we  meet  with  it  in 
Luther's  small  catechism.  But  this  passage  characterizes  only  the 
religious  instruction  in  the  institution,  and  by  no  means  Pestalozzi's 
religious  views  and  practice. 

Still  it  is  clear  that  at  Yverdun  he  also  had  in  view  much  less  mor- 
al education  than  intellectual.  He  wished,  by  means  of  the  latter,  to 
lay  before  the  world  striking  results  of  the  method  ;  but  how  shall  he 
show  passing  strangers  the  results  of  moral  education,  a  humble  mind 
and  a  loving  heart,  or  shall  he  even  expose  them  rudely  to  public  gaze 
by  an  examination  ?  To  which  was  added,  that  in  the  multitude  of 
boys  he  despaired  of  being  able  to  take  each  one  individually  to 
his  heart  as  a  father  would  do,  who  never  loves  his  children  only  en 
masse, 

I  now  return  to  Pestalozzi's  writings,  and  come  to  those  which  he 
wrote  in  his  old  age. 

In  several  of  his  addresses  to  the  inmates  of  his  house,  there  are 
passages  which  bear  witness  that  even  during  the  years  which  he 
passed  at  Yverdun,  Christianity  still  lived  in  his  inmost  soul ;  peaceful 
Sabbath  and  festival  tones  soar  above  the  restless  and  noisy  week-day 
work.  So  in  his  Christmas  address  of  1810. 

"  I  have  been  told  by  old  people,  (lie  said,)  and  I  have  partly  seen  myself 


122  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTKM  OF  1'KSTAI.OZZI 

that  Christmas  Kvo  used  to  be  a  night  like  no  other.  The  day  of  the  highest 
earthly  joy  was  not  its  shadow.  The  anniversary  of  the  deliverance  of  the 
country  from  slavery,  the  anniversary  of  freedom,  was  not  to  be  compared  to  it. 
It  was  quite  a  heavenly  night,  a  night  of  heavenly  joy.  In  its  still  service  ded- 
icated to  God,  resounded  the  words :  'Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on 
earth  peace,  good  will  toward  men.'  When  the  angels  still  assembled,  as  it 
were,  over  the  heads  of  men,  at  this  hour,  and  praised  God  that  the  Saviour  of 
the  world  was  born, — what  a  night  was  Christmas  Eve !  Who  can  describe  its 
joy?  Who  ean  tell  its  bliss?  The  earth  was,  on  that  ni^ht,  translorined  into  a 
heaven.  On  that  night,  God  was  celebrated  on  high,  peace  was  on  earth,  and 
men  showed  a  cheerful  good  will.  Brothers,  friends,  children,  could  I  but  cam 
you  back  into  the  old  Christian  world,  and  show  you  the  celebration  of  this  hour 
in  the  days  of  innocence  and  faith,  when  half  the  world  still  accounted  it  a 
small  thing  to  die  for  the  faith  in  Christ  Jesus!  Could  I  but  show  you  t 
of  Christmas  Eve  in  the  picture  of  those  days!  The  heart  full  of  the  ]|',. l\ 
<ihosr.  ami  the  hand  full  of  human  gifts — thus  stood  the  ehristian  at  this  hour 
in  the  circle  of  his  brethren.  Thus  stood  the  mother  in  the  circle  c»f  her  chil- 
dren. Thus  stood  the  master  in  the  circle  of  his  workmen — the  gentleman  in 
the  circle  of  his  own  people.  Thus  stood  the  commune  before  their  pastor — 
thus  went  the  rich  man  into  the  chamber  of  the  poor.  At  this  hour,  enemy 
held  out  to  enemy  the  hand  of  reconciliation.  The  sinner  knelt  down  and  wept 
over  his  transgressions,  and  rejoiced  in  the  Saviour,  who  forgave  him  his  sins. 
The  hour  of  heavenly  joy  was  the  hour  of  heavenly  sanctification.  Tin 
was  a  heavenly  earth,  and  the  abode  of  mortal  men  emitted  odors  of  immortal 
life.  May  the  joys  of  this  hour,  may  the  joy  at  the  birth  of  our  Redeemer.  ><• 
elevate  us,  that  Jesus  Christ  may  now  appear  to  us  as  the  visible  divine  love,  as 
he  sacriliced  himself  and  gave  himself  up  to  death  li.r  us.  May  we  rejoice  in 
the  hour  in  which  he  became  man,  because  he  brought  into  the  world  for  us  tin- 
great  gift  of  his  life,  and  laid  it  upon  the  altar  of  divine  love.  From  this  hour. 
he  was  the  priest  of  the  Lord,  sacrificed  for  us.  Friends,  brothers,  sisters,  let  us 
pray;  0  God,  give  us  them  again,  those  fair  days  of  the  world,  in  which  the  hu- 
man race  truly  rejoiced  in  the  birth  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Redeemer.  Give  us 
again  the  times  in  which  the  hearts  of  men  were  at  this  hour,  full  of  the  Holy 
and  their  hands  full  of  human  gifts  for  their  brethren.  Father  in 
..  thou  wilt  give  us  them  again,  if  we  but  truly  desire  them." 

In  the  address  already  mentioned,  which  Pestalozzi  delivered  in 
1818,  when  he  was  seventy-two  years  old,  occur  passages  whirh  make 
a  profound  impression  on  the  mind.  He  there  declares  that  happi- 
is  to  be  expected  from  Christianity  alone. 


"The  artificial  spirit  of  our  times,  (he  says.)  has  also  annihilated  the  influence 
which  the  religious  feeling  of  our  fathers  exercised  upon  this  centre  of  human 
happiness.  This  religious  spirit  which  caused  the  happiness  of  the  quiet  and 
circumscribed  domestic  relations,  has  sunk  down  amongst  us  into  an  insolent 
spirit  of  reasoning  upon  all  that  is  sacred  and  divine;  still  we  must  also 
acknowledge  that  the  primesource  of  the  real  poison  of  our  artificiality,  namely, 
the  irreligious  feeling  of  the  present  age,  seems  to  be  shaken  in  the  very  depths 
of  its  destructive  powers;  the  blessed  spirit  of  the  true  ehristian  doctrine 
appears  to  strike  deeper  root  again  in  the  midst  of  the  corruption  of  our  race. 
and  to  preserve  inward  purity  of  life  in  thousands  and  thousands  of  men,  and, 
indeed,  with  regard  to  popular  education,  it  is  from  this  quarter  alone  that  we 
can  derive  the  expectation,  that  we  shall  ever  attain  to  measures  really  calcula- 
ted to  reach  with  sufficient  efficacy  the  views,  dispositions,  appetites,  and  habits 
of  our  present  mode  of  life,  which  we  must  look  upon  as  the  original  source  of 
our  popular  depravity  and  the  misfortunes  of  our  times." 

The  conclusion  of  the  address  is  particularly  important : — 

Friends,  brothers,  become  renovators  of  my  house,  restorers  of  its  old  spirit, 
and  witnesses  that  the  spirit  of  my  youth,  which  is  seen  blossoming  in  '  Leon- 
ard and  Gertrude,'  and  nearer  maturity  in  '  How  Gertrude  teaches  her  children,' 
still  lives  in  me.  In  that  spirit,  become  joint  founders  of  the  present  result  of 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PESTALOZZI. 


123 


the  old  Original,  philanthropic  ami  beneficent  purpose  of  my  institution.  In 
that  spirit,  and  in  no  other,  1  call  you  all,  who  are  members  of  my  institution, 
to  a  sacivd  union  in  and  through  love.  Love  one  another,  as  Jesus  Christ  loved 
us.  '  Love  sullereth  long,  and  is  kind ;  love  envieth  not ;  love  vaunteth  not  it- 
s.-lf,  is  not  pulled  up,  doth  not  behave  itself  unseemly,  seeketh  not  its  own,  is 
not  easily  provoked,  thinketh  no  evil;  rejoiceth  not  in  iniquity,  but  rejoiceth  in 
the  truth:  l.ruivth  all  things,  believeth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things,  endureth 
all  tiling-'  Friends,  brothers,  bless  them  that  curse  you,  do  good  to  them  that 
hate  you.  Heap  coals  of  fire  on  the  heads  of  your  enemies.  Let  not  the  sun 
go  down  upon  your  wrath.  If  thou  bring  thy  gift  tothealtar.  first  be  reconciled 
to  thy  brother,  and  then  conic  and  offer  thy  gift.  All  unrelenting  severity,  even 
toward  those  who  do  us  wrong,  be  far  from  our  house.  Let  all  human  severity 
be  lost  in  the  gentleness  of  our  faith.  Let  no  one  among  you  attempt  to  exeiH.- 
his  severity  toward  those  who  are  in  tin.*  wrong.  Let  no  one  say  that  Jesus 
Christ  did  not  love  those  who  did  wrong.  He  did  love  them.  He  loved  them 
with  divine  love.  He  died  for  them.  He  came  not  to  call  the  righteous,  but 
sinners,  to  repentance.  He  did  not  find  sinners  faithful.  Inn  mad"  them  faithful. 
He  did  not  find  them  humble,  but  made  them  humble,  by  his  own  humility. 
Verily,  verily,  it  was  with  the  high  and  holy  service  of  his  humility  that  he 
Conquered  the  pride  of  sinners,  and  chained  them  by  laith  to 'the  heart  of  his 
divine  lo\.-.  Friends,  brothers,  it'  we  do  this,  if  we  love  one  another,  as  Jesus 
Christ  loved  us,  we  shall  overcome  all  the  obstacles  which  stand  in  the  way  of 
our  life's  purpose,  and  be  able  to  ground  the  welfare1  of  our  institution  upon  the 
-ting  rock,  on  which  <  !od  himself  has  built  the  weltan-  of  the  human  race, 
through  Jesus  Christ.  Amen." 

At  the  grave,  I  have  asked  after  Pestalozzi's  confession  of  faith  ;  I 
have  sought  it  in  his  writings,  as  well  as  in  his  life,  and  communicated 
to  the  reader  what  he  himself  confessed  in  1793  about  his  Christianity 
at  that  period  of  his  life,  when,  perhaps,  he  had  separated  himself 
furthest  from  Christ,  and  lived  only  in  a  speculative  and  political  ele- 
ment. "  Wavering,  (so  went  the  confession,)  between  feelings  which 
drew  me. toward  religion,  and  opinions  which  led  me  away  from  it,  I 
went  the  dead  way  of  my  time."  This  confession  we  have  found  con- 
firmed in  his  writings,  as  in  his  life  ;  but  in  his  earliest,  and  again  in 
his  latest  writings,  religious  feeling  has  been  seen  soaring  above  a 
sceptical  intellect.  And  throughout  his  long  life  how  high  soars  a 
love  which  would  not  despair  under  any  suffering,  any  ingratitude; 
:how  high  it  soars  above  all  doubts,  in  the  pure  air  of  heaven  !  Men 
are  seduced  into  infidelity  by  superficial  reflection,  which,  misap- 
prehending and  over-estimating  the  measure  of  insight  possible  to 
man,  fails  to  judge  aright  where  a  clear  self-knowledge  believes  with 
intelligent  resignation.  But  Christ,  who  takes  the  strong  for  his  spoil, 
reigns  ever  in  the  inmost  heart  of  christians  as  episcopus  in  partibus 
infidelium ;  even  in  times,  when  their  faith  wavers,  he  remains 
faithful  to  them.  This  we  see  in  Pestalozzi,  both  in  his  words  and  in 
his  works. 

Who  shall  dare  cast  a  stone  at  him,  who  shall  dare  condemn  him  ? 
To  him  shall  much  be  forgiven,  for  he  loved  much.  Aye,  the  whole 
of  his  toilsome  life  is  pervaded  by  love — by  a  yearning  desire  to  alle- 
viate the  condition  of  the  poor  suffering  people.  That  love  was  the 


]  j  i  I  UK  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PE8TALO//I 

passion  of  his  heart  ;  it  kindled  in  him  a  burning  anger  against  all 
who  stood  in  the  way  of  the  attainment  of  its  object. 

It  is  true,  that  the  chief  ol»tacle  in  hi*  way  was  himself.  With 
God,  counsel  and  action  go  together;  with  men,  th«  y  an-  only  too 
often  separated.  Thus  we  have  seen  that  Pestalozzi,  with  the « -l.-ar- ->t 
knowledge  of  men,  was  incapable  of  managing  and  governing  them  ; 
with  the  most  amiable  ideals,  he  was  blind  when  he  had  to  show  tin- 
way  to  those  ideals.  Nay,  in  endeavoring  to  realize  his  pvat  concep- 
tions, he  frequently  took  the  course  most  opposed  to  th  in. 

No  one  was  further  than  he  was  from  a  cleanly  domotic  existence; 
yet  no  one  desired  such  an  existence  more  earnestly,  or  understood  its 
value  better,  than  he  did.  Tin*  delineations  of  Gertrude's  hou-ek 
ing  prove  that  a  poet  can  truthfully  depict  not  only  what  he  possesses 
in  full  degree,  l.ut  what  he  longs  for  with  his  whole  heart  because  he 
-  lacks  it  altogether. 

He  passed  the  greater  part  of  his  life  in  pn-s>in^  want:  thus  he 
could  scarcely  fail  to  feel  a  true  mid  sp..ntan.-..us  xyinj.athy  with  the 
poor  and  abandoned. 

If  lie  was  cynical  in  evil  days  from  necessity  ;  in  better  days,  he 
was  so  on  principle.  Corresponding  to  the  bodily  cynicism,  there 
was  in  the  character  of  his  mind,  something  which  I  would  call,  not 
spiritual  poverty,  but  intellectual  cynicism  :  an  a\er-ion  to  the  aristoc- 
racy of  education.  And  yet,  as  one  of  the  contradictions  of  which 
his  character  is  full,  he  felt  himself  called  to  lay  new  foundations  un- 
der the  lofty  structure  of  this  education,  instead  of  tin-  <>ld  pernicious 
ones.  He  wanted  to  support  the  upper  story  of  the  building,  with- 
out troubling  himself  about  that  story  itself.  On  one  occasion,  he 
even  made  it  the  subject  of  a  boast,  that  he  had  not  read  a  book  for 
thirty  years. 

Hence  it  came,  as  I  have  already  said,  that  he  committed  so  many 
mistakes  usual  with  self-taught  men.  He  wants  the  historical  basis ; 
things  which  others  had  discovered  long  before  appear  to  him  to  be 
quite  new  when  thought  of  by  himself  or  any  one  of  his  teachers. 
He  also  Corments  himself  to  invent  things  which  had  been  invented 
and  brought  to  perfection  long  before,  and  might  have  been  used  by 
him,  if  he  had  only  known  of  them.  For  example,  how  useful  an 
ae.jiiaintaince  with  the  excellent  Werner's  treatment  of  the  mineralog- 
ical  characters  of  rocks  would  have  been  to  him,  especially  in  the  def- 
inition of  the  ideas,  observations,  naming,  description,  <fec.  As  a  self- 
taught  man,  he  every  day  collected  heaps  of  stones  in  hi*  walks.  If 
he  had  been  under  the  di-cij.line  of  the  Freiberg  school,  the  observa- 
tion of  a  single  stone  would  have  profited  him  more,  than  large  heaps- 


LIFE  AND  EDUCATION  \l    Msll M   uF  1'KSTALOZZI.  125 

of  stones,  laboriously  brought  together,  could  do,  in   the   absence   of 
any  Mich  <li\i-i»>n. 

Self- taught  men,  I  >ay,  want  tin-  discipline  of  the  school.  It  is  not 
simply  that,  in  the  province  of  the  intellectual,  they  often  find  only 
aft*-!-  lone;  wandering  \\hat  tln-v  ini^ht  easily  have  attained  by  a  direct 
and  beaten  path  ;  they  \\aiit  aUo  the  ethical  discipline,  which  restrains 
us  from  running  according  to  caprice  after  intellectual  enjoyments,  and 
whoK-s,,mely  compels  us  to  deny  ourselves  and  follow  the  path 
indicated  to  u>  by  the  teacher. 

Many,  it  is  true,  fear  that  the  oracular  instinct  of  the  self-taught 
illicit  sutler  from  the  school.  But,  if  the  school  is  of  the  right  sort, 
this  instinct,  if  genuine,  will  be  strengthened  by  it ;  deep-felt,  dreamy, 
ami  passiv,.  presentiments  are  transfigured  into  sound,  waking,  and 
active  observation. 

This  s.-lt-taught  character  of  Pestalozzi's  mind  showed  itself  in  hU 
treatment  of  s.-v«-ral  branches  of  instruction.  What  are  his  names 
of  towns,  \\hich  he  takes  in  alphabetical  order  from  the  index  of  a 
geography  book,  without  possessing  any  knowledge  of  the  subject; 
what  are  the  heaps  of  words  transcribed  from  Scheller's  Lexicon: 
what  else  are  they  but  the  trials  of  an  undisciplined  mind,  to  find  out  * 
new  ways  <>t  writing  school  books  ? 

r>ut  when  the  self-taught  man  forsakes  the  old  highways,  he  finds, - 
in  spite  of  much  going  astray,  many  short  by-ways,  the  knowledge  of 
which  i-  welcome  to  the  students  of  the  subject,  and  induces  them  to 
make    new   experiments   themselves.     In     this    manner,    Pestalozzi 
exercised  an  influence  even  upon  his  adversaries. 

Generally,  Pestalozzi's  personal  influence  on  the  methods  of  teach- 
ing particular  subjects  was  small;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  he  com-X. 
pelled  the  scholastic  world  to  revise  the  whole  of  their  task,  to  reflect 
on  the  nature  and  destiny  of  man,  as  also  on  the  proper  way  of  leading 
him  from  his  youth  toward  that  destiny.  And  this  was  done,  not  in 
the  superficial  rationalistic  manner  of  Basedow*  and  his  school,  but 
so  profoundly,  that  even  a  man  like  Fichte  anticipated  very  great 
thing-*  from  it. 

But  it  is  to  be  lamented,  that  the  actual  attempts  made  by  Pesta- 

Baaedow  founded  an  educational  institution  called  the  "  Philanthropiu,"  at  Dessua,  in 
1774.  In  this  institution,  the  educational  views  of  Rousseau,  as  expounded  in  his  "  Emile," 
were  exclusively  followed,  and  every  effort  made  to  realize  them.  Rousseau  was  at  that 
time  the  pharos  of  many  educationists  in  Germany  and  Switzerland,  as  he  was  the  pharos 
of  the  men  of  the  revolution  in  France.  The  Philanthropin  excited  a  good  deal  of  attention 
at  the  time.  The  name  of  the  Philanthropin  still  survives,  but  it  has  almost  become  a  term 
ni  reproach  to  signify  any  shallow  educational  enterprise.  It  appears,  however,  that,  together 
with  much  that  was  whimsical  and  even  foolish,  the  institution  presented  many  honest  ani 
unselfish  efforts  on  the  part  of  faithful  workers,  and  produced  many  wholesome  fruits  —See 
R(ii/>nrr\  arrount  of  the  Philanthrnjnn. 


]._>,;  LIFE  AND  EDUCATIONAL  SYSTEM  OF  PE8TALOZZI. 

lozzi  and  his  fellow-laborers  to  set  up  new  methods  of  teaching  vari- 
ous subjects,  have  met  with  such  r>jx H  ial  approbation  and  imitation. 
An  examination  of  Pestalozzi's  profound  principles,  and  an  insight 
into  the  contradiction  between  these  principles  and  his  practice,  would 
have  conduced  much  more  to  the  discovery  of  new  methods,  re:»lly 
answering  to  the  principles.  This  is  appplicable,  for  instance,  to  what 
I  have  said  upon  the  exercises  in  observation,  falsely  so  called.  Most 
of  the  imitators  of  the  great  man  have  fallen  in  love  with  his  dark 
side,  the  endeavor  to  mechanise  education.  When  those  purely  ex- 
ternal appliances  and  artifices  which  he  employed  for  mechanising  ed- 
ucation shall  have  been  so  modified  as  to  be  no  longer  recognizable, 
or  shall  have  been  entirely  laid  aside  and  forgotten — then  Pestalozzi's 
"Leonard  and  Gertrude,"  the  "Evening  Hour  of  a  Hermit,"  and 
"How  Gertrude  teaches  her  Children,"  will  still  live  on  and  exercise 
an  influence,  though  even  these  works,  like  every  thing  else  that  is  hu- 
man, are  not  altogether  free  from  spot  or  blemish.  Profound' 
thoughts,  born  of  a  holy  love  under  severe  pains,  they  are  thoughts 
of  eternal  life,  and,  like  love,  shall  never  cease. 


t)F  I'KsTALO/./l.  12T 

The  following  summary  view  of  the  principal  Biographies  of 
Pestalozzi  is  taken  substantially  from  Guillaume's  Memoir  in 
Buisson's  Dictionaire  de  Pedagogic: 

Several  "biographical  notices  of  Pestalozzi  were  published  soon  after 
his  death,  in  1827-8,  two  in  the  French  language;  the  first  by  Charles 
Monard  of  Lausanne,  and  the  second  by  Madame  Adele  du  Thon,  the 
wife  of  the  Prefect  of  Yverdun. 

REV.  CHARLES  MAYO,  in  1826,  printed,  with  other  papers,  a  Memoir  of 
I\ Main//!,  read  before  the  Royal  Institution;  and  in  1856. 

DR.  E.  BIBER,  the  author  of  a  pamphlet  in  1827,  entitled  Contribution, 
to  the  ltioyr«i)hy  of  Henry  Pestalozzi,  in  1831  published  in  English  a  biog- 
raphy of  Pestalozzi  under  the  title,  Henry  Pestalozzi  and  his  Plan  of  Ed- 
ucation; being  an  account  of  his  Life  and  Writings,  with  copious  extract* 
from  his  works,  and  details  illustrative  of  the  practical  parts  of  his  method. 

REV.  WILLIAM  C.  WOODBRIDGE  published  in  the  Annals  of  Education, 
for  January,  1837,  a  carefully-prepared  Life  of  Pestalozzi,  with  a  critical 
examination  of  his  principles  and  methods  of  education,  which  was  re- 
issued by  H.  Barnard  in  1856. 

DR.  A.  H.  DIESTERWEQ  printed  in  the  Rheinische  Blatter,  1827  to  1831,. 
si-vt-ral  biographical  sketches  on  different  periods  of  his  career,  and  in 
1846  a  Commemorative  Discourse  on  his  Influence  on  Popular  Education 
in  Germany. 

KARL  VON  RAUMER  (1843)  in  the  second  volume  of  his  History  of 
Pedagogy,  devotes  a  very  interesting  and  valuable  chapter  of  over  a 
hundred  pages  to  Pestaloz/i. 

The  Academy  of  Political  and  Moral  Science,  at  Paris,  announced  as  a 
subject  for  the  Felix  de  Beaujour  prize,  A  Critical  Examination  of  Pesta- 
lozzi's System  of  Instruction  and  Education,  with  especial  regard  to  the  <r<  l- 
fare  and  morality  of  the  poorer  classes.  The  prizes  were  awarded  to  J.  J. 
Repet  and  to  Philibert  Pompde,  and  honorable  mention  to  Augustine 
Cochin,  whose  essay  was  published  in  1848.  Of  Repet's  Memoir  we  have 
never  seen  a  copy.  In  1850,  Pompee  published  the  biographical  part  of 
his  essay,  and  a  complete  edition  in  1878.  This  work,  vigorous  and  orig- 
inal, contains  much  that  was  new,  communicated  to  the  author  by  Jo- 
seph Schmid,  and  about  the  period  of  Munichbuchensee  and  Yverdun, 
and  is  not  impartial  in  those  chapters  covering  the  period  from  1805-1827, 
which  arc  full  of  panegyric  of  Schmid  and  disparagement  of  Niederer. 

Miss  CHAVANNES,  daughter  of  the  author  of  L' Expose  de  la  Metlwde 
Hementaire  de  Pestalozzi,  published  in  1853  a  biography  of  Henry  Pesta- 
lozzi, which  has  many  mistakes,  but  contains  much  new  matter. 

M.  PAROZ  published  Pestalozzi,  his  Life,  Metlwds,  and  Principles;  Be- 
rene,  1857. 

DR.  PALMER  prepared,  for  Schmid's  Pedagogical  Encyclopedia,  a  criti- 
cal exposition  of  Pestalozzi's  Life  and  Pedagogy,  of  great  excellence 
from  the  Protestant  point  of  view. 

F.  MANN'S  J.  II.  Pestalozzi's  Leben  und  Wirken,  issued  in  1871,  is  a  work 
of  more  than  ordinary  merit  and  accuracy. 

M.  SEYFFARTFI  published  (1873)  a  biography  of  Pestalozzi,  in  which  he 
has  conscientiously  utilized  all  existing  works. 


i    PBBTALOJ 

M.  IlouKK  DK  GUIMPS,  son  of  Madame  de  (Juimps.  the  iran>lator  of 
Leonard  and  Gertrude,  and  an  old  .scholar  in  the  institution  at  Yvcrdun, 
publi.-hed  in  1874,  being  greatly  aided  by  tin-  re-,  arches  of  Moil'  and 
Varth,  a  Histoirt  de  Pestalozzi.  This  is  the  best  book  on  the  >ul>j. •< -t  in 
the  French  language.  We  are  indebted  to  him  for  many  facts  about  the 
inner  life,  studies,  scholars,  etc.,  of  tin-  in.Mitiition  of  Yverduu  at  that 
time,  for  which  \\<-  >«-»-k  in  vain  HM- where. 

HEKMAN  Kui>i,  the  son  of  Pestalozzi's  tir>t  assistant,  published  in 
1875  (Van  Antwerp,  Bragg  &  Co.,  Cincinnati)  a  volume  of  248  pp.,  enti- 
tled  Pestalozzi'*  L<f< ,  \Y«rk,  and  Injlncnce. 

F.  BUISSON,  in  his  Dictionaire  de  Pedagogie,  published  in  1882,  devotes 
75  of  his  large  and  closely  print (d  pages  to  an  elaborate  and  exhau>ti\e 
memoir  of  Pestalozzi,  prepared  by  .!.  (riiillaume. 

MADAMK  XI.II.NDKR-STADLIK,  of  Zurich,  in  1875,  announced  the  publi- 
cation of  a  great  work  on  Pestalozzi,  in  seven  volume.-,  which  should 
embrace  many  unpublished  manuscripts  concerning  him  (copies  of  which 
she  had  procured),  his  own  correspondence,  and  all  documents  which 
would  throw  light  on  the  life  of  the  great  Zurich  educator.  The  first 
volume  appeared  in  ls7.">,  under  the  title,  Pcstalozzi : — Idee  und  Maclit  der 
menchhd,  Band :  Zeit  und  Vorzeit  von  1 ' 

irkelung.     Madame  Stadlin  died  while  this  volume  was  in  j 

DK   o    Ih  N/IKKU.  in  1881-2  began  a  series  of  publications  on  Pcsta- 

of  \\liieli  the  principal  are  (not  to  mention  the  Pe*talozzi -Blatter,  of 

which    he  was   the  editor)  Ptttalozzfs  Versuch  der  Arment -r: idm iiy  «>ij 

\»  nhof  ton  cinem  Mitglied  der  Commission  fur  das  Pentalozzi-^; 
chen.     1831.     Deutche  Blatter  of   F.Mann  (1882)  and  two  essays  (1881- 
1884)  on  the  composition  of  Leonard  and  G< 

II.  MniiK,  <»f  Winterthur,  Principal  of  the  Orphan  Asylum,  from  1864 
to  IM'.T  published  several  monogram-  on  certain  portions  of  IV.-talozzi's 
: ,  and  in  1868  he  issued  the  first  volume  of  an  elaborate  biography 
under  the  title,  Zur  Biographic  Pestalozzi's.  Ein  Beitrag  zur  Geschichte  der 
Volfaerziehung.  Enter  TheH:  Pestalozzi's  Wirksamkeit  bis  in  die  Mitte  des 
Burgdorfers  Aufenthaltes  ;  Z  Auflage.  The  second  volume 

did  not  appear  till  1885,  under  the  title,  Pestalozzi  vnd  seine  Anstalt  in  der 
zweiten  Ilalfte  der  Burgdorfer  Zeii.  And  in  1885  a  third  volume,  <-ntitl<  d 
Von  Burgdorf  fiber  Munchenbuchsee  nach  Ttenfnn."  Morf  also  published 
a  study  of  Pestalozzianism  in  Spain,  which  appeared  in  1876. 

The  Milton  Bradley  Company.  Sprinulield.  issue  in  1888  — 

PESTALOZZI  AND  >  I)AGOGY.— Memoir  and  Kducational  Princi- 

ples of  John  Henry  Pestal  0/7.  i.  with  Biounipliical  Bketche0  of  other  em  i 
nent   Swiss  Educators,  and  some  account  of   Swiss  Pedagogjr  in  other 
Countries.     Edited   by   Henry  Barnard,  LL.D.      Revised  Edition,  816 
pages.     $3.50  in  cloth  (binding 

Of  this  Memoir,  as  issued  in  1862,  in  a  volume  of  484  pages,  with  the 
title  of  Pestalozzi  and  Pestalozzianism,  Prof.  Raumcr  wrote  from  Erlangen. 

"In  your  Pestalozzi  and  Pestalozzianism  you  have  collected  with  the 

greatest  diligence  all  that  relates  to  Pestalozzi  and  his  school.  I  can 
ardly  understand  how  you  could  have  made  such  a  collection  in  Amer- 
ica, or  out  of  it  either,  even  by  the  aid  of  well  informed  correspondents. 
I  know  how  great  is  the  difficulty  of  collecting  authorities,  by  my  o\\  n 
experience  during  the  composition  of  my  History  of  Pedagogy,  where  I 
had  to  obtain  them  with  much  pains  from  German  and  Swiss  Libraries 
and  even  from  France."  "It  is  the  most  comprehensive,  reliable,  and 
•satisfactory  work  I  have  seen  on  the  great  Swiss  educator." 


M.uX/rs    I'l.AN    H'|;    Yl.'Al.MNi;    ']  I.Ac  IIK1>  J29 

From  cotemporaneous  accounts  of  the  school  at  Clindy,  by  a 
pupil,  recently  printed  (1880),  it  is  clear  that  Prof.  Raumer  in  his 
memoir  of  Pestalozzi  (p.  ll'J-ll.'J),  did  not  possess  full  informa- 
tion respecting  Pestalozzi's  object  in  establishing  it,  or  in  the  satis- 
factory  results,  as  long  as  he  possessed  adequate  means  to  continue 
it  on  its  original  plan.  No  one  saw  more  clearly  the  necessity  of 
a  well  trained,  equipped  and  experienced  principal  with  natural 
aptitude  for  such  a  Normal  School  as  he  contemplated,  but  he  was 
not  as  fortunate  as  Fellenberg  was  in  a  similar  plan,  in  finding  a 
Vehrli  to  develop  it. 

THE   CLINDY     SCHOOL. 

In  1818,  Pestalozzi  desired  to  found  at  Neuhof  an  institution  for 
poor  and  orphaned  children,  where  scholars  of  both  sexes  could  be 
educated  ami  trained  for  teachers.  The  requisite  building  not  being 

found  tin  iv.  lie  rented,  in  the  little  village  of  dimly,  about  a  mUefrom 
Yvrnlun,   a  building  to  receive   the   new  school.      In    May,   18l5T~h<\ 
announced  tlnoiiirh    the  ./•**//•//*//  that  twelve  poor  scholars,  of  either) 
would  l>r  received  free  of  charge,  and  maintained  during  live  years 
at  Clindy.  where  they   would   he    prepared   for  the  career  of  tejujjers.  1 
From  the  number  applying  for  admission,  twelve  of  the  best  character^ 
and  the  mo-t  intelligence  \\ere  selected.     The  establishment  of  Clindy 
\va-  formally  opened  on  Monday.  SeptembcjJLa^^SlS,  by  an  address  by 
•!oy./.5.   which  was  printed,   but  which  is  not  to  be  found  in  any 
regular  edition  .»f  }\\±  work-.      The  boys  were  put   under  the  charge  of 
,id.  and  the  ;rirls  under  Marie  Schmid.  a  -i-ler  of  .Joseph   Schmid. 
•and  a  former  pupil  of  the  School  for  (Tirls.      The  instruction  was  given 
by  the  teacher-  of  the  Institution  at   Yvrnlun. 

Much  li.irht  is  thrown  on  the  genesis  and  brief  hi-tory  of  this  school 
at  Clindy.  in  the  bio'jraphy  of  Jacob  lieu— i.  one  of  the  twelve  free 
.scholar*  of  the  institution,  who  died  at  Leip/ie  in  1883,  after  having 
been  pn>lV—or  for  fifty-eight  years  in  different  institutions  in  England 
and  (Jermany. 

Al'trr  isn,  Pestalozzi  had  frequent  visits  from  different  Englishmen 
at  Yvrnlun,  who  showed  especial  interest  in  the  Clindy  School. 
Thinking  that  through  their  interest  at  home  he  mi^ht  find  the  resources 
for  supporting  his  school,  he  planned  an  English  edition  of  his  works, 
and  i-sned  an  a]. peal  to  the  English  public,  printed  at  Yverdun, 
September  14,  1818.  Its  title  was,  "The  address  of  Pestalozzi  to  the 
British  Public,  soliciting  them  to  aid  by  subscriptions  his  plan  of 
preparing  School  Masters  and  Mi-tn-e-  f,,r  the  people,  that  Mankind 
may  in  time  receive  the  first  Principles  of  Intellectual  Instruction  from 
the  Mother-."  He  pledges  himself  to  the  people  of  England,  who  are 
interested  in  the  subject,  to  devote  their  subscriptions,  deducting  the 
cost  of  translating  and  printing,  to  a  permanent  fund  for  this  school. 
4 


8TAN8 


DORF 


STUDENT  LIFE  AT  YVEKDUN  UNDEE  PESTALOZZL 

KKMIMSCENCES  OF  A  WESTMINSTER  BOY. 


THE    KKMIMM  ENT.* 

The  writer  of  these  reminiscences  of  his  student  life  at  Yverdun 
[about  1>U4]  was  taken  by  liis  lather  from  the  hard  forms  and  birchen 
discipline  of  Westminster  School,  then  under  Dr.  Page,  under  some- 
what «  xauirerutcd  expectations  of  Pestalozzi's  Boarding  School,  which 

arc  well  described  by  himself. 

"  Urn-  was  a  school  composed  of  boys  gathered  from  all  parts  of  the  habit- 

alile  v.lohe,  when-  each,  by  simply  carrying  over  a  little  of  his  mother  tongue, 
might,  in  n  short  time,  become  a  youthful  Mezzofante,  and  take  his  choice  of 

many  in  return  ;  a  school  which,  wisely  eschewing  the  routine  service  of  hunks, 
suff'-ivd  neither  dictionary,  gradu>.  i_rrammar,  imr  spelling  book  to  be  even  seen 
on  the  premi.s, •-  ;  a  .-clnn»l  for  morals,  where,  in  educating  'he  head,  the  right 
training  of  the  lieart  was  never  for  a  moment  neglected  ;  a  school  for  the 
progress  of  the  mind,  where  much  discernment .  hi. -nding  itself  with  kindness, 
.  (1  ih"  tii>t  dawnin-s  of  the  intellect,  and  carefully  protected  the  feeble 
pn\\. T-  nf  memory  from  U-ing  overtaxed — where  delighted  Alma,  in  the  prog- 
lopment.  miijit  se<  urcK  enjoy  many  privileges  and  immunities 
wholly  denied  to  her  at  hoim — where  even  philosophy,  stooping  to  conquer, 
had  hecome  sfwrti'n  the  het;er  to  y»  rs»/n»A  .-  when-  t'tie  poet's  vow  was  actually 
reali/.ed— tin-  bodily  health  liein-  as  diligently  !  r  as  that  of  the  mind 

or  the  afiVetioits  ;  la-tly.  where  they  found  no  righting  imr  hull\iiii:,  as  at 
home,  but  auri.-n'tr.r  and  •_  \  mna.-tic>  instituted  in  their  stead."  To  Midi 
encomiums  on  the  M-hool  w.-re  added,  and  with  more  justice  and  truth,  a  cnm- 
niend  .rion  on  old  Pe-talo/./.i  himself,  the  real  liberality  of  whoM-  -entiments,. 
jind  the  overflowing  of  whose  pateni.il  love,  could  not,  it  was  argued,  and  did 
not,  f:>i!  to  prove  1  enetieial  to  all  within  the  sphere  of  their  influence.  The 
.vei-lit  of  Midi  >upp'-ed  ;•  d  \  a  n  t.ej  •  -  turned  tin-  >ca!e  for  not  a  few  just  entering 
'•  pupillary  state,  and  >ettl«-d  their  future  destination. 

The  account  which  follows,  after  due  allowance  for  its  unsyinpathi/.- 
oe,  throws  nmrh  li-ht  on  the  internal  economy  of  the  institution. 

INTERNAL     CONDI T  I  "N 

The  PetM&m,  durin-  'he  perio.l  of  our  sojourn  at  Yverdnn,  contained  about 

n  hundred   and  '-'-v  Fnr..p-an   and  <-f  >..me  <  >rie,,tal 

rfmitin  mode  of  distribution  into  class,.,,  According  to  ago  and 

ae«,uiivments.  durin-  school  hours,  was  completely  chanyrd   in  j.lay-time,  when 

the  boys,  tindin-j  it  easier  to  speak  their  own  tongue  than  to  acquire  a  new  one, 

•  -<»m  an  article  in  Blackwood's  Magazine  for  .Tuly.isw.  with  the  ,,M,iie,.  Pestalozziana 
-written  somo  thirty  years  after  leaving  Yverdun,  with  no  prejudices  in  favor  of  popular 
ednontlon. 


182  STUDENT  LIFE  AT  YVERDUN  I'NDKK  PESTALOZZI. 

divided  themselves  into  separate  groups  according  to  their  respective  nations. 
The  Knglish  would  ocea-ionally  admit  ;i  (lennan  or  a  Prussian  to  their  coti rie  ; 
luit  that  was  a  favor  seldom  conferred  nj)un  any  other  foreigner;  for  tin-  Span- 
iards, who  were  certainly  the  least  well-conducted  of  the  whole  coimnunitv, 
did  uot  deserve  it ;  among  them  were  to  he  found  tin-  litigious,  tin-  mischief- 
makers,  tin-  (juan-cller-,  and — for,  as  lias  linn  hinted,  \\c  were  not  all  honest — 
the  exceptional  thieve-.  Tin-  Italian- we  could  never  make  out,  nor  they  us  : 
we  had  no  sympathy  with  Pole  or  Greek;  tin-  Swi-s  we  positively  did  not  like, 
and  the  French  just  as  positively  did  not  like  us;  so  how  could  it  he  otherwise  '. 
The  ushers,  for  the  most  part  trained  up  in  tin;  school,  wore  an  obli^m-  >et  of 
men,  with  little  refinement,  less  pretension,  and  wholly  without  learning.  A 
distich  from  Crabbe  describes  them  perfectly — 

"Men  who,  'mid  noise  and  dirt,  and  play  and  prate, 
Could  calmly  mend  the  pen  and  wash  the  slat 

Punishments  were  rare;  iml- -ed,  Homing  was  absolutely  prohibited  ;  and  the 
-ettini:  an  inij>osition  would  have  l.ecn  equally  against  the  genius  loci,  had  lesson- 
hook-  existed  out  of  which  to  hear  it  afterwards.  A  short  imprisonment  in  an 
unfurnished  room — a  not  very  formidable  black  hole — with  the  loss  of  &  goutte 
now  and  then,  and  at  very  long  intervals,  formed  the  mild  summary  of  tin- 
penal  "code  Pestalo//.i." 

It  was  Saturday,  and  a  half-holiday,  when  we  arrived  at  Vverdtin,  and  oh 
the  confusion  of  tongues  which   there   prevailed  !     All    Bedlam   and    rarua— us, 
let  loose  to  rave  together,  could  not  have  come  np  to  that  diapason  of  discords 
with  which   the  high  corridor-  were  ringing,  a-,  pa --in-  through  the  throng,  we 
•were  conducted  to  the  venerable  head  of  the  establishment  in  his  private  apart- 
ments beyond.     In  this  gallery  of  mixed  portraits  might  be  seen  long-haired, 
high-born,  and  high-cheek-boned  Germans ;  a  scantling  of  French  gaming  much 
better  dressed ;  some  dark-eyed  Italians ;  Greeks  in  most  foreigneering  attire ; 
here  and  there  a  fair  ingenuous  Ku--ian  lace;    several  swart,  sinister-looking 
Spaniards,  models  only  for  their  own  Carravagio;  some  dirty  specimens  of  the 
universal  Pole;  one  or  two  unmistakable  Knglish,  ready  to  shake  hands  with  a 
.compatriot;  and  Swiss  from  every  canton  of  the  Helvetic  confederacy.     To 
.this  promiscuous  multitude  we  were  shortly  introduced,  the  kind  old  man  him- 
:self  taking  us  by  the  hand,  and  acting  as  master  of  the  ceremonies.     When 
•.the  whole  school  had  crowded  round  to  f-tare  at  the  new  importation,  "  Here," 
said  he,  "are  four  English  boys  come  from  their  distant  home,  to  be  naturalized 
in  this  establishment,  and  made  members  of  our  family.     Boys,  receive  them 
kindly,  and  remember  they  are  henceforth  your  brothers."     A  shout  from  the 
crowd  proclaiming  its  ready  assent  and  cordial  participation  in  the  adoption, 
toothing  remained  but  to  shake  hands  d  I'Anglaise,  and  to  fraternize  without  loss 
^pMirne.     The  next  day  being  Sunday,  our  skulls  were  craniologically  studied 
by  Herr  Schmidt,  the  head  usher;  and  whatever  various  bumps  or  depressions 
phrenology  might  have  discovered  thereon  were  all  duly  registered  in  a  large 
book.     After  this  examination  was  concluded,  a  week's  furlough  was  allowed, 
in  order  that  Herr  Schmidt  might  have  an  opportunity  afforded  him  of  seeing 
how  far  our  real  character  squared  with  phrenological  observation  and  measure- 
ment, entering  this  also  into  the  same  ledger  as  a  note. 

What  a  contrast  were  we  unavoidably  drawing  all  this  time  between  Yverdun 
and  Westminster,  and  how  enjoyable  was  the  change  to  us !  The  reader  will 
please  to  imagine,  as  well  as  he  can,  the  sensations  of  a  lately  pent-up  chrysalis, 


STUDENT  LIFE  AT  VVKKDl  N   I'NDEK  PESTALOZZI.  133 

cm  first  finding  himself  a  butterfly,  or  the  not  less  agreeable  surprise  of  some 
newly  metamorphose -d  tadpole,  when,  taring  his  associates  in  the  mud  and 
-n.r:i  slime,  he  floats  at  liberty  on  the  surface  of  the  pool,  endowed  with  lungs 
and  a  voice, — if  he  would  at  all  enter  into  the  exultation  of  our  feelings  on 
chunking  the  penitential  air  of  Millbank  for  the  fresh  mountain  breezes  of  the 
l'a\  -  iK-  Vaud.  It  seemed  as  if  we  had — nay,  we  had  actually  entered  upon  a 
new  existenee,  so  thoroughly  had  all  the  elements  of  the  old  been  altered  and 
improved.  If  we  looked  back,  and  compared  past  and  present  experiences, 
there,  at  the  wrong  end  of  the  mental  telescope,  stood  that  small  dingy  houser 
in  that  little  mis-yclept  Great  Smith  Street,  with  its  tiny  cocoon  of  a  bed-room, 
whilom  our  close  and  airless  prison  ;  here,  at  the  other  end,  and  in  immediate 
contact  with  the  eye,  a  noble  chateau,  full  of  roomy  rooms,  enough  and  to 
spare.  Another  letroepecthre  peep,  and  there  was  Tothill  Fields  and  it- seedy 
cricket  ground  ;  and  here,  again,  a  level  equally  perfect,  but  carpeted  with  fine 
turf,  and  extending  to  the  margin  of  a  broad,  living  lake,  instead  of  terminating 
in  a  nauseous  duck  pond;  while  the  cold,  clammy  cloisters  adjoining  Dean's 
Yard  were  not  less  favorably  replaced  by  a  large,  open,  airy  play  ground,  inter- 
sect!.1  by  two  clear  trout  streams — and  a  sky  as  unlike  that  above  Bird  Cage 
Walk  as  the  interposed  atmosphere  was  different  ;  whilst,  in  place  of  the  start- 
ling, discordant  h't/i  usmata  of  bargees,  joined  to  the  creaking,  stunning  noise 
of  commerce  in  a  great  city,  few  out-of-door  sounds  to  meet  our  ear,  ami  these 
few,  with  the  exception  of  our  own,  all  quiet,  pastoral,  and  soothing,  such  as, 
later  in  life,  make 

"  Silence  in  the  heart 
For  thought  to  do  her  part," 

and  which  are  not  without  their  charm,  even  to  him  "who  whistles  as  he  goes, 
for  want  of  thought."  No  wonder,  then,  it'  Yverdun  seemed  Paradisaical  in 
its  landscapes.  Nor  was  this  all.  If  the  views  outside  were  charming,  our 
domestic  and  social  relations  within  doors  were  not  less  pleasing.  At  first,  the 
unwelcome  vision  of  the  late  head-master  would  sometimes  haunt  us,  clad  in  his 
flowing  black  D.D.  robes — "tri-  MS  in  vultu,  atque  in  verbis  fides," 

looking  as  if  he  intended  to  flog,  ami  his  words  never  belying  his  looks.  That 
terrible  Olympian  arm,  rai.-ed  and  ready  to  .-trike,  was  again  shadowed  forth 
to  view  ;  while  we  could  almost  fancy  ourselves  once  more  at  that  judicial 
table,  one  of  twenty  boys  who  were  to  draw  lots  for  a  "  hander."  How  sooth- 
ingly, then,  came  the  pleasing  consciousness,  breaking  our  reverie,  that  a  very 
different  person  was  now  our  head-master — a  most  indulgent  old  man  whom  we 
should  meet  ere  long,  with  hands  uplifted,  indeed,  but  only  for  the  purpose  of 
clutching  us  tight  while  he  inflicted  a  salute  on  both  checks,  and  pronounced 
his  a  ff  ectionate  guten  moryen,  lit  IMS  kind,  as  he  hastened  on  to  bestow  the 
fatherly  greeting  upon  every  pupil  in  turn. 

THE    DORMITORY. 

The  sleeping  apartments  at  the  chateau  occupied  three  of  the  four  sides  of 
its  inner  quadrangle,  and  consisted  of  as  many  long  rooms,  each  with  a  double 
row  of  windows  ;  whereof  one  looked  into  the  aforesaid  quadrangle,  while  the 
opposite  rows  commanded,  severally,  views  of  the  garden,  the  open  country, 
and  the  Grande  Place  of  the  town.  They  were  accommodated  with  sixty 
uncurtained  stump  bedsteads,  fifty-nine  of  which  afforded  i/ite  to  a  like  number 
of  boys  ;  and  one,  in  no  respect  superior  to  the  rest,  was  destined  to  receive  the 
athletic  form  of  Ilerr  Gottlieb,  son  in  law  to  Vater  Pestalozzi,  to  whose  partic- 


1  ,  !  .»i:.NT  I.IFK  AT  V\  KKDl  N  UNDER  PESTALOZZI. 

uhir  charge  we  were  consigned  during  the  hours  of  the  night.  These  bed 
he  in. ii'  a-  lofty  as  they  were  long,  broad,  and  overfurnished  with  windows,  \\ere 
always  ventilated  ;  hut  tin-  in  draught  of  air,  which  was  sufficient  to  keep  them 
cool  during  the  hotte.-t  day  in  i-ummer,  rendered  thfin  coal,  and  soinctiiii' 
cold,  in  the  winter.  In  that  sea.-on,  accordingly,  especially  when  the  /</»•  hlew, 
and  hail  and  sleet  were  battering  against  thf  casement.- ,  the  compulsory  ri-in^ 
!a<s  hy  candle-light  was  an  un^eiiial  and  unwelcome  process;  for  which, 
however,  there  being  no  remedy,  the  next  best  thing  was  to  take  it  as  cooliy,  we 
•were  goini;  to  say — thai  of  course — but,  as  patiently  as  might  he  The  disagree- 
able anticipation  of  the  re  veil  was  frequently  enough  to  scare  away  sleep  from 
our  eves  a  full  hour  before  the  command  to  jump  ont  <  I  Led  was  actually 
issued.  On  such  occasion-  we  would  lie  awake,  and,  as  ihc  time  approached, 
heuin  to  draw  in  our  own  lireath,  furtively  listening,  not  without  trepidation,  to  th-- 
loud  noise  of  a  distant  comrade,  le-t  it-  fitful  .-tertor  should  startle  another  pair 
of  no.-tril.-.on  who-e  n-po-c  that  of  the  whole  dormitory  depended.  L,-t  J'.M'.U- 
and  his  crew  make  what  tumult  they  liked  inside  or  outside  the  castk — ///<//  dis- 
turbed nobody's  dreams—///^  never  murdered  sleep.  Let  ihem  pipe  and 
whistle  through  every  key  hole  and  <  re\ice  i.f  the  vast  ciHXJhti  of  tin-  building 
— igh  and  moan  as  they  would  in  their  various  imprisonments  »f  atti<- or  cor- 
ridor; howl  \\ildly  round  ih>-  -rcat  tower,  or  even  threaten  a  foicil.le  entry  at 
the  windows,  nobody'-  ear-  were  scared  into  unwelcome  i-nnscii.usne->  by 
sounds  so  familiar  to  them  all.  It  was  tlie  expectation  nf  a  blast  louder  e\  ,-n 
than  theirs  that  would  keep  OU1  —a  blast  aLoiit  to  i>»uc  from  the  bed 

of   Ilerr  Gottlieb,  and    thundering   enough,  when    it   issued,  to  startle  the  \<  ry 
<>f  winds    himself!      Often,  a-    the   dnaded   six   A.M.  drew   ni^li,  when    the 
third  ijnarter   ]>ast  five   had,  ten  minute-   since,  come  \\ith   a  sou-h  and  a  rattle 
against  the  casements,  and  still  dottlieb  -lept  on.  w«-  would  take  c. 

n  to  dream  with  our  eye-  open,  that  his  slumbers  mi^ht  be  prolonged  a 
little;  his  face,  turned  upward-,  !<>,,k<d  so  calm,  the  eye<  so  resolutely  el- 
even-feature so  perfectly  at  r  It  It  e-.uld  n«>t  be  more  than  live  miniile- to 
six — miirht  n<it  he  who  had  slept  .so  long,  for  once  or,.--!,  ep,  bim.-e'.f'  Ni  \  :  u' 
.xfiowever  placid  those  slumbers  might  be,  they  invariably  forsook  our  "  un- 
I  wearied  one"  just  as  the  clock  was  on  the  point  of  striking  six.  To  ju  : 
Vthe  rapid  twitching*— they  almost  seeme-l  galvanic— first  of  the  muscles  round 
the  month,  then  of  the  nose  and  eye-,  it  app.  an-d  as  though  some  ill-omened 
dream,  at  that  very  nick  of  time,  was  pent  periodically,  on  purpose  to'awakcn 
him;  and,  if -o,  it  certainly  never  returned  </-  WKTOC.  Gottlieb  would  ir.stantly 
set  to  rubbing  hi-  eye-,  and  as  the  hour  struck,  sprint:  up  wide  awake  in  his 
shirt  sleeves — thus  destroying  every  lingering,  and,  as  it  always  turned  out, 
ill  founded  hope  of  a  longer  snooze.  Presently  we  beheld  him  jump  into  his 
.-mall-clothes,  and,  when  suthYiently  attired  to  be  seen,  nnlimber  his  ton-ue, 
and  pour  forth  a  rattling  broadside — Anf,  kinder!  Srluriiul .'— with  such  prc- 
<  i.-ion  of  delivery,  too,  that  few  sleepers  could  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  it.  Hut  l'-t 
any  one  should  still  lurk  under  his  warm  coverlet  out  of  earshot,  at  the  further 
end  of  the  room,  another  and  a  shriller  summons  to  the  same  effect  once  more 
shakes  the  walls  and  windows  of  the  dormitory.  Then  every  boy  knew  ri^ht 
well  that  the  last  moment  for  repose  was  past,  and  that  he  must  at  once  turn 
out  shivering  from  his  bed,  and  dress  as  fast  as  possible  ;  and  it  was  really 
surprising  to  witness  how  rapidly  nil  could  huddle  on  their  clothes  under  certain 
conditions  cf  the  a'!i!o-pl. 


:>ENT  LIFE  AT  YVEHIMN   I'NDER  PESTALOZZI.  135 

In  le<s  th;in  five  minutes  the  whole  school  was  dressed,  and  Gottlieb,  in  his 
.-minding  shoes,  having  uiged  the  dilatory  with  another  admonitorv  schivind, 
si-furind!  has  departed,  key  and  candle  in  hand,  to  arouse  the  remaining  sleep- 
en,  by  rin^ini:  the  "Great  Tom  "  of  the  chateau.  So  cold  and  cheerless  was 
this  matutinal  summons,  that  occasional  attempts  were  made  to  evade  it  by 
simulated  headache,  or,  without  bring  quite  BO  >p.-citie,  on  the  plea  of  general 
indispo-itioii,  though  it  was  well  known  beforehand  what  the  result  would  be. 
Herr  Gottlieb,  in  such  a  case,  would'  presently  appear  at  the  bedside  of  the 
delinquent  patient,  with  very  little  compassion  in  his  countenance,  and  in  a 
bnatneas  tone,  proceed  to  inquire  from  him.  Why  not  up  ? — and  on  receiving 
for  reply,  in  a  niel.mdioly  vuio-,  that  the  would-be  invalid  was  «-///•  krn,,L;  would 
instantly  pass  the  word  for  the  doctor  to  be  summoned.  That  doctor — we  knew 
him  well,  and  everv  truant  knew — was  a  quondam  French  armv  surgeon — a 
sworn  di-cii.le  of  the  Broii.-sais  school,  whose  heroic  remedies  at  the  chateau 
resolved  themselves  into  one  of  two — i.e.  a  starve  or  a  vomit,  alternately  admin- 
istered, according  as  the  idiosyncrasy  of  the  patient,  or  a-  this  or  that  symptom 
tun:'-d  the  scale,  now  in  favor  of  storming  the  stomach,  now  of  starving  it  into 
capitulation.  Just  as  the  welcome  hot  nn->s  of  bread  and  milk  was  about  to  be 
served  to  tin-  rot,  this  dapper  little  Sangrado  would  make  his  appearance,  feel 
the  pnl-  •.  in-peet  the  tongue,  ask  a  few  questions,  and  finding,  gcn<-rally,  indi- 
cations of  what  he  would  term  une  Itglre  gastrite,  recommend  di!te  absolve;  then 
piv-erihing  a  mawkish  tinnn-  :  of  any  ^anlen  herlis  at  hand,  and  pocket- 

ing lancet-  ;;nd  stethoscope,  would  Lave  the  patient  to  ivco\ cr  v///.s  •  n.'ointl — a 
mo<le  of  treatment  to  which,  he  would  tell  us,  we  should  certainly  have  been 
subjected  in  our  own  country.  Meanwhile,  the  superiority  of  /is  j  Ian  of  treat- 
ment was  unquestionable.  On  the  very  next  morning,  when  he  called  to  \  Mt 
his  c/ier  jxtit  malade,  an  empty  bed  said  quite  plainly,  "  Very  \\-rll,  I  thank  yon. 
sir,  and  in  class."  But  these  fei^nings  were  comparatively  of  rare  occurrence, 
in  general,  all  rose,  dressed,  and  descended  together,  jnst  as  the  alarum  hell 
had  cea-i-'i  to  sound;  and  in  less  than  two  minutes  more  all  were  a->emblcd  in 
their  respective  class-rooms.  The  rats  and  mice,  which  had  had  the  run  ofx 
the-e  duriiiL:  the  nii;ht,  would  be  still  in  oceup-.ition  when  we  entered  ;  and  Mich 
was  tin-  audacity  of  these  vermin  that  none  cared  alone  to  lx>  the  first  to  plant 
:!«•  on  his  desk.  But,  by  entering  en  masse,  we  ea-ily  routed  the  i;,«ln,ii<i. 
who.-r  force-  were  driven  to  seek  shelter  behind  the  wainscot,  where  tli'-y  would 
scuttle,  and  urnaw,  and  scratch,  before  they  finally  withdrew,  and  left  u*  with 
blue  fingers  and  chattering  teeth  to  study  to  make  the  best  of  it.  Uncomfort- 
able enough  was  the  effort  for  the  first  ten  minutes  of  the  ses-ion  ;  but  by 
degrees  tin-  hopes  of  a  possible  warming  of  hands  upon  the  siirf:cr  of  the 
Dutch  stoves  after  class,  if  they  should  have  been  lighted  in  time,  and  at  any 
rate  the  ct-rraintN  of  a  hot  breakfast,  were  entertained,  and  brought  their  con- 
solation ;  besides  which,  the  being  up  in  time  to  welcome  in  the  dawn  of  the 
dullest  day,  while  health  and  liberty  are  ours,  is  a  pleasure  in  itself  There 
was  no  exception  to  it  here;  for  when  the  darkness,  becoming  every  moment 
nd  less  dark,  had  at  length  given  way,  and  melted  into  a  gray  gloaming, 
we  would  rejoice,  even  before  it  appeared,  at  the  approach  of  a  new  day.  That 
approach  was  soon  further  heralded  by  the  fitful  notes  of  small  day-birds  chirp- 
ing under  the  leaves,  and  anon  by  their  sudden  dashin-s  against  the  windows, 
in  the  direction  of  the  lights  not  yet  extinguished  in  the  class-rooms.  Presently 
the  pigs  were  heard  rejoicing  and  contending  over  their  fresh  wash  ;  then  the 


13G       STUDENT  LIFE  AT  Y VERDUN  UNDER  PESTALOZZI. 

old  horse  and  the  shaggy  little  donkey  in  the  stable  adjoining  the  styes,  know- 
ing by  this  stir  that  their  feed  was  coming,  snorted  and  brayed  at  the  pleasant 
prospect.  The  cocks  had  by  this  time  roused  their  sleepy  sultanas,  who  came 
creeping  from  under  the  barn-door  to  meet  their  lords  on  the  dunghill.  Our 
peacock,  to  satisfy  himself  that  he  had  not  taken  cold  during  the  night,  would 
scream  to  the  utmost  pitch  of  a  most  discordant  voice ;  then  the  prescient  goats 
would  bleat  from  the  cabins,  and  plaintively  remind  us  that,  till  their  door  is 
unpadlocked,  they  can  get  no  prog;  then  the  punctual  magpie,  and  his  friend 
the  jay,  having  hopped  all  down  the  corridor,  would  be  heard  screaming  for 
broken  victuals  at  the  school-room  door,  till  our  dismissal  bell,  finding  so  many 
other  tongues  loosened,  at  length  wags  its  own,  and  then  for  the  next  hour  and 
a  half  all  are  free  to  follow  their  own  devices.  Breakfast  shortly  follows  ;  but, 
alas!  another  cold  ceremony  must  be  undergone  first.  A  preliminary  visit  to- 
pump  court,  and  a  thorough  ablution  of  face  and  hands,  is  indispensable  to 
those  who  would  become  successful  candidates  for  that  long-anticipated  meal. 
This  bleaching  process,  at  an  icy  temperature,  was  never  agreeable;  but  when 
the  pipes  happened  to  be  frozen — a  contingency  by  no  means  unfrequent — and 
the  snow  in  the  yard  must  be  substituted  for  the  water  which  was  not  in  the 
pump,  it  proved  a  difficult  and  sometimes  a  painful  business ;  especially  as 
there  was  always  some  uncertainty  afterwards,  whether  the  chilblained  paws 
would  pass  muster  before  the  inspector-general  commissioned  to  examine  them 
— who,  utterly  reckless  as  to  how  the  boys  might  "  be  off  for  soap,"  and  incred- 
ulous of  what  they  would  fain  attribute  to  the  adust  complexion  of  their  skin, 
would  require  to  have  that  assertion  tested  by  a  further  experiment  at  the 
"  pump  head." 

THE    REFECTORY. 

"  Forbear  to  scoff  at  woes  yon  cannot  feel, 
Nor  mock  the  misery  of  a  stinted  meal.11 — CRABBE. 

The  dietary  tables  at  the  chateau,  conspicuous  alike  for  the  paucity  and  sim- 
plicity of  the  articles  registered  therein,  are  easily  recalled  to  mind.  The  fare 
they  exhibited  was  certainly  coarse — though,  by  euphemism,  it  might  have  been 
termed  merely  plain — and  spare  withal.  The  breakfast  would  consist  of  milk 
and  water — the  first  aqueous  enough  without  dilution,  being  the  produce  of 
certain  ill  favored,  and,  as  we  afterwards  tasted  their  flesh,  we  may  add  ill- 
flavored  kine,  whose  impoverished  lacteals  could  furnish  out  of  their  sorry 
fodder  no  better  supplies.  It  was  London  sky  blue,  in  short,  but  not  of  the 
Alderney  dairy,  which  was  made  to  serve  our  turn  at  Yverdun.  This  milk  at 
seven  in  summer,  and  at  half  past  seven  in  winter,  was  transferred  boiling,  and 
as  yet  unadulterated,  into  earthenware  mixers,  which  had  been  previously  half- 
filled  with  hot  water  from  a  neighboring  kettle.  In  this  half-and-half  state  it 
was  baled  out  for  the  assembled  school  into  a  series  of  pewter  platters,  ranged 
along  the  sides  of  three  bare  deal  boards,  some  thirty  feet  long  by  two  wide, 
and  mounted  on  tressels,  which  served  us  for  tables.  The  ministering  damsels 
were  two  great  German  Fraus,  rejoicing  severally  in  the  pleasing  names  of 
Gretchen  and  Bessie.  When  Frau  Gretchen,  standing  behind  each  boy,  had 
dropped  her  allowance  of  milk  over  his  right  shoulder — during  which  process 
there  was  generally  a  mighty  clatter  for  full  measure  and  fair  play — the  other 
Frau  was  slicing  off  her  slices  of  bread  from  a  brown  loaf  a  yard  long,  which 
she  carried  under  her  arm,  and  slashed  clean  through  with  wonderful  precision 
and  address.  It  was  now  for  all  those  who  had  saved  pocket-money  for  menus- 


STUDENT  LIFE  AT  Y VERDUN  UNDER  PESTALOZZI.  137 

plaisirs  to  produce  their  cornets  of  cinnamon  or  sugar,  sprinkle  a  little  into  the 
milk,  and  then  fall  to  sipping  and  munching  with  increased  zest  and  satisfac- 
tion. So  dry  and  chaffy  was  our  pain  de  menage  that  none  ventured  to  soak  it 
entire,  or  at  once,  but  would  cut  it  into  fruslrnms,  and  retain  liquid  enough  to 
wash  down  the  boluses  separately.  In  a  few  minutes  every  plate  was  com- 
pletely cleaned  out  and  polished;  and  the  cats,  that  generally  entered  the  room 
as  we  left  it,  seldom  found  a  drop  with  which  they  might  moisten  their  tongues, 
or  remove  from  cheeks  and  whiskers  the  red  stains  of  murdered  mice  on  which 
they  had  been  breaking  their  fast  in  the  great  tower.  So  much  for  the  earliest 
meal  of  the  day,  which  was  to  carry  us  through  five  hours,  if  not  of  laborious 
mental  study,  at  least  of  the  incarceration  of  our  bodies  in  class,  which  was 
equally  irksome  to  them  as  if  our  minds  had  been  hard  at  work.  These  five 
hours  terminated,  slates  were  once  more  insalivated  and  put  by  clean,  and  the 
hungry  garrison  began  to  look  forward  to  the  pleasures  of  the  noon-day  repast. 
The  same  bell  that  had  been  calling  so  often  to  class  would  now  give  premon- 
itory notice  of  dinner,  but  in  a  greatly  changed  tone.  In  place  of  the  shrill 
snappish  key  in  which  it  had  all  the  morning  jerked  out  each  short  unwelcome 
summons  from  lesson  to  lesson,  as  if  fearful  of  ringing  one  note  beyond  the 
prescribed  minute,  it  now  would  take  time,  vibrate  far  and  wide  in  its  cage, 
give  full  scope  to  its  tongue,  and  appear  from  the  loud  increasing  swell  of  its 
prolonged  oyez,  to  announce  the  message  of  good  cheer  like  a  herald  conscious 
and  proud  of  his  commission.  Ding-dong! — come  along  !  Dinner's  dishing! — 
ding-dong !  Da  capo  and  encore  !  Then,  starting  up  from  every  school-room 
form  throughout  the  chateau,  the  noisy  boys  rushed  pell-mell,  opened  all  the 
doors,  and,  like  emergent  bees  in  quest  of  honey,  began  coursing  up  and  down 
right  busily  between  the  sallf-d-manger  and  the  kitchen — snuffing  the  various 
aromas  as  they  escaped  from  the  latter  into  the  passage,  and  inferring  from  the 
amount  of  exhaled  fragrance  the  actual  prepress  of  the  preparations  for  eating. 
Occasionally  some  "sly  Tom"  would  peep  into  the  kitchen,  while  the  Fraus 
were  too  busy  to  notice  him,  and  watch  the  great  cauldron  that  had  been  milked 
dry  of  its  stores  in  the  morning,  now  discharging  its  aqueous  contents  of  a 
much-attenuated  bouillon — the  surface  covered  with  lumps  of  swimming  bread, 
thickened  throughout  with  a  hydrate  of  potatoes,  and  colored  with  coarse, 
insipid  carrots,  which  certainly  gave  it  a  savory  appearance.  It  was  not  good 
broth — far  from  it,  for  it  was  both  suft-greasy  and  super-salted  ;  but  then  it  was 
hot,  it  was  thick,  and  there  was  an  abundant  supply.  It  used  to  gush,  as  we 
have  said,  from  the  great  stop-cock  of  the  cauldron,  steaming  and  sputtering, 
into  eight  enormous  tureens.  The  shreds  of  beef,  together  with  whatever 
other  solids  remained  behind  after  the  fluid  had  been  drawn  off,  were  next  fished 
up  from  the  abyss  with  long  ladles,  and  plumped  into  the  decanted  liquor. 
The  young  gastronome  who  might  have  beheld  these  proceedings  would  wait  till 
the  lid  was  taken  off  the  saur  kraut ;  and  then,  the  odor  becoming  overpower- 
ingly  appetizing,  he  would  run,  as  by  irresistible  instinct,  into  the  dining-room, 
where  most  of  the  boys  were  already  assembled,  each  with  a  ration  of  brown 
bread  in  his  hand,  and  ready  for  the  Fraus,  who  were  speedily  about  to  enter. 
The  dinner  was  noisy  and  undented  in  the  extreme — how  could  it  be  otherwise  ? 
•centre  affame  n'a  point  d'oreilles.  Hardly  was  the  German  grace  concluded,  and 
the  covers  removed,  when  that  bone  of  contention,  the  marrow  bone,  was. 
caught  up  by  some  big  boy  ne-ir  the  top  of  the  table,  and  became  the  signal  for 
a  general  row.  All  in  his  neighborhood  would  call  out  second,  third,  fourth,. 


138  STUDENT  LIFE  AT  YVERDUN  UNDER  PESTALOZZI. 

fifth,  etc.,  for  said  bone;  arid  thus  it  would  travel  from  plate  to  plate,  yielding 
its  contents  freely  to  the  two  or  three  first  applicants,  but  wholly  inadequate — 
unless  it  could  have  resolved  itself  altogether  into  marrow — to  meet  all  the 
demands  made  upon  its  stores.  Then  arose  angry  words  of  contention,  which 
waxed  hot  as  the  marrow  waxed  cold,  every  candidate  being  equally  vocifenms 
in  maintaining  the  priority  of  his  particular  claim.  Earnest  appeals  in  (ii-nnan, 
French,  Spanish,  English,  etc.,  were  bandied  from  one  to  the  other  inconse- 
quence, as  to  who  hud  really  said  apres  toi  first!  At  last  the  "dry  bone"  was 
found  undeserving  of  further  contention  ;  and,  ceasing  to  drop  any  more  fat- 
ness upon  any  boy's  bread,  the  competition  for  it  was  dropped  too.  When 
now  we  had  half  filled  our  stomachs  with  a  soup  which  few  physicians  would 
have  withheld  from  their  fever  patients  on  the  score  of  its  strength,  we  threw 
in  a  sufficiency  of  bread  and  amir  knnit  to  absorb  it;  and,  after  the  post  prandial 
German  grace  had  been  pronounced,  the  boys  left  the  table,  gem  rally  with  a 
saved  crust  in  their  pockets,  to  repair  to  the  garden  and  filch — if  it  was  filching 
— an  alliaceous  dessert  from  the  beds,  which  they  washed  in  the  clear  stream, 
and  added,  without  fear  of  indigestion,  to  the  meal  just  concluded  within  the 
chateau.  Most  of  us  throve  upon  this  Spartan  diet;  but  some  delicate  boys, 
unendowed  with  the  ostrich  power  of  assimilation  usual  at  that  period — for 
boys,  like  ostriches,  can  digest  almost  anything — became  deranged  in  their 
chylopoietics,  and  continued  to  feel  its  ill  effects  in  mesenteric  and  other  chronic 
ailments  for  years  afterwards.  An  hour  was  given  for  stomachs  to  do  their 
work,  before  we  re-assembled  to  ours  in  the  clas>-r.><>m.  At  half-past  four  pre- 
cisely, a  goute  was  served  out,  which  consisted  of  a  whacking  slice  <>!'  bread, 
and  either  a  repetition  of  the  morning's  milk  and  water,  or  cafe  au  lait,  (without 
sugar  "  bien  entendu,")  or  twenty-live  walnuts,  or  a  couple  of  ounces  of  strong- 
tasted  grvyere,  or  a  plateful  of  schnitz  (cuttings  of  dried  apples,  pears,  and 
plums).  We  might  choose  any  one  of  these  several  dainties  we  liked,  but  not 
more.  Some  dangerous  characters — not  to  be  imitated — would  occasionally, 
while  young  Fran  Schmidt  stood  doling  out  the  supplies  from  her  cupboard 
among  the  assembled  throng,  make  the  disingenuous  attempt  to  obtain  cheese 
with  one  hand  and  schnitz  with  the  other.  But  the  artifice,  we  are  happy  to 
say,  seldom  succeeded ;  for  that  vigilant  lady,  quick-eyed  and  active,  and  who, 
of  all  things,  hated  to  be  imposed  upon,  would  turn  round  upon  the  false  claim- 
ant, and  bid  him  hold  up  both  his  hands  at  once — which  he,  ambidexter  as  he 
was,  durst  not  do,  and  thus  he  was  exposed  to  the  laughter  and  jeers  of  the 
rest.  At  nine  the  bell  sounded  a  feeble  call  to  a  soidisoit  supper :  but  fi  w  of 
us  cared  for  a  basin  of  tisane  under  the  name  of  lentil  soup— or  a  pappy  potato, 
salted  in  the  boiling — and  soon  after  we  all  repaired  to  our  bed-rooms — made  a 
noise  for  a  short  time,  then  undressed,  and  were  speedily  asleep  under  our 
duvets,  and  as  sound,  if  not  as  musical,  as  tops. 

Our  common  fare,  as  the  reader  has  now  seen,  was  sorry  enough ;  but  we 
had  our  Carnival  and  gala  days  as  well  as  our  Lent.  Vater  Festal ozzi's  birth- 
day, in  summer,  and  the  first  day  of  the  new  year,  were  the  most  conspicuous. 
On  each  of  these  occasions  we  enjoyed  a  whole  week's  holiday ;  and  as  these 
were  also  the  periods  for  slaughtering  the  pigs,  we  fed  (twice  a  year  for  a  whole 
week!)  upon  black  puddings  and  pork  <t  discretion,  qualified  with  a  sauce  of 
beet-root  and  vinegar,  and  washed  down  with  a  fluid  really  like  small  beer. 

CLASSES. 

The  school-rooms,  which  lay  immediately  under  the  dormitories  on  the 
.ground  floor,  consisted  of  a  number  of  detached  chambers,  each  of  which  issued 


STUDENT  LIFE  AT  YVIIIIDUX  UNDER  PESTALOZZI  l;)<) 

upon  a  corridor.  They  were  airy — there  was  plenty  of  air  at  Yverdun— and 
loftv  as  became  so  venerable  a  building;  but  they  were  unswept,  unscrubbed, 
peeled  of  tlieir  paint,  and,  owing  to  the  little  light  that  could  find  its. way 
through  two  very  small  windows  punched  out  of  the  fortress  walls,  presented, 
save  at  mill-day,  or  as  the  declining  sim  illumined  momentarily  the  dark  recess, 
as  comfortless  a  set  of  interiors  as  you  could  well  see.  I',  required,  indeed,  all 
the  elasticity  of  youth  to  bear  many  hours'  daily  incarceration  in  such  black- 
holes,  without  participating  in  the  pervading  gloom.  Sueh  dismal  domiciles 
were  only  tit  resorts  for  the  myoptic  bat,  who  would  occasionally  visit  them 
from  the  old  tower;  for  the  twilight  horde  of  cockroaches,  which  swarmed 
along  the  floor,  or  the  eight  eyed  spiders  who  colonized  the  ceiling  The 
tender  sight,  too,  of  a  patient  just  recovering  from  ophthalmia  would  here  have 
required  no  factitious  or  deeper  shade — but  merits  like  these  only  rendered 
them  as  un^-mal  as  possible  to  the  physiology  and  feelings  of  their  youthful 
occupants.  If  these  apartments  looked  gloomy  in  their  dilapidations  and  want 
of  sun,  the  somber  effect  was  much  heightened  by  the  absence  of  the  ordinary 
tallies  and  chairs,  and  whatever  else  is  necessary  to  give  a  room  a  habitable 
appearance  Had  an  appraiser  been  commissioned  to  make  out  a  complete  list 
of  the  furniture  and  the  fixtures  together,  a  mere  glance  had  sufficed  for  the 
inventory.  In  vain  would  his  practiced  eye  have  wandered  in  quest  of  themes 
for  golden  sentences,  printed  in  such  uncial  characters  that  all  who  run  may 
read;  in  vain  for  the  high-hung  well  backed  chart,  or  for  any  pleasing  pictorial 
souvenirs  of  .^Esop  or  the  Ark, — neither  these  nor  the  long  "colored  Stream  of 
Time,"  nor  formal  but  useful  views  in  perspective,  adorned  our  sorry  walls. 
No  old  mahogany  ease  clicked  in  a  corner,  beating  time  for  the  class,  and  the 
'hour  upstriking  loud  that  it  should  not  be  defrauded  of  its  dues.  No  gla/.ed 
globe,  gliding  round  on  easy  axis,  spun  under  its  brassy  equator  to  the  antip- 
odes on  its  sides  being  touched.  No  bright  zodiac  was  there  to  ekhibit  its 
cabalistic  figures  in  pleasing  arabesques.  In  place  of  these  and  other  well- 
known  objects,  here  stood  a  line  of  dirty,  much  inked  desks,  with  an  equally 
dirty  row  of  attendant  forms  subjacent  alongside  There  was  a  scantling — it 
seldom  exceeded  a  leash— of  ricketty  rush-bottom  chairs  distributed  at  long 
intervals  along  the  walls;  a  coal-black  slate  pegged  high  on  its  wooden  horse ; 
a  keyless  cupboard,  containing  the  various  implements  of  learning,  a  dirty 
duster,  a  pewter  plate  with  cretaceous  deposits,  a  slop-basin,  and  a  ragged 
sponge; — and  then,  unless  lie  had  included  the  cobwebs  of  the  ceiling,  (not 
usually  reckoned  up  in  the  furniture  of  a  room,)  no  other  moveables  remained. 
One  conspicuous  fixture,  however,  there  was,  a  gigantic  Dutch  stove.  This 
lumbering  parallelogram,  faggot-fed  from  the  corridor  behind,  projected  several 
feet  into  the  room,  and  shone  bright  in  the  glaze  of  earthenware  emblazonments. 
Around  it  we  would  sometimes  congregate  in  the  intervals  of  class:  in  winter 
to  toast  our  hands  and  hind-quarters,  as  we  pressed  against  the  heated  tiles, 
with  more  or  less  vigor  according  to  the  fervency  of  the  central  fire ;  and  in 
summer  either  to  tell  stories,  or  to  con  over  the  pictorial  History  of  the  Bible, 
which  adorned  its  frontispiece  and  sides.  We  cannot  say  that  every  square 
exactly  squared  with  even  our  schoolboy  notions  of  propriety  in  its  mode  of 
teaching  religious  subjects ;  there  was  a  Dutch  quaintness  in  the  illustrations, 
which  would  sometimes  force  a  smile  from  its  simplicity,  at  others  shock,  from 
its  apparent  want  of  decorum  and  reverence.  Pre-eminent  of  course  among 
the  gems  from  Genasis,  Adam  and  Eve,  safe  in  innocency  and  "naked  truth," 


140       STUDENT  LIFE  AT  YVERDUN  UNDER  PESTALOZ;:i. 

here  walked  unscathed  amidst  a  menagerie  of  wild  beasts— Mm-,  die  sd  in  tin- 
costume  of  their  fall,  they  quitted  Eden,  and  left  it  iu  possession  of  timers, 
bears,  and  crocodiles.  Hard  by  on  a  smaller  tile,  that  brawny  "knave  of  clubs," 
Cain,  battered  down  his  brother  at  the  altar;  then  followed  a  long  picture- 
gallery  of  the  acts  of  the  patriarchs,  ami  another  equally  long  of  the  acts  of 
tin-  apostles.  But,  queer  as  many  of  these  misconceptions  minht  seem,  they 
were  nothing  to  the  strange  attempts  made  at  dramati/ing  the  parables  of  the 
New  Testament — e.  g.  a  stout  man,  staggering  tinder  the  weight  of  an  enormous 
beam  which  grows  out  of  one  eye,  employs  his  liners,  assisted  hv  the  other,  to 
pick  out  a  black  speck  from  the  cornea  of  his  neighbor.  Here,  an  unclean 
spirit,  as  black  as  any  sweep,  issues  from  the  mouth  of  his  victim,  with  wings 
and  a  tail!  Here  again,  the  good  Samaritan,  turbaned  like  a  Turk,  is  bent 
over  the  waylaid  traveler,  and  pours  wine  and  oil  into  his  wounds  from  the 
mouths  of  two  Florence  flasks;  there,  the  grain  of  mustard  seed  becomes  a 
tree,  sheltering  already  a  largo  aviary  in  its  boughs;  the  woman,  dancing  a 
hornpipe  with  the  Dutch  broom,  has  swept  her  house,  and  lo  !  the  piece  of  silver 
that  was  lost  in  her  hand  :  a  -ervant,  who  is  digging  a  hole  in  order  to  hide  his 
lord's  talent  under  a  tree,  is  overlooked  by  a  magpie  and  two  crows,  who  are 
attentive  witnesses  of  the  deposit; — and  many  others  too  numerous  to  mention. 
So  much  for  the  empty  school-room,  but  what's  a  hive  without  bees,  or  a  school- 
room without  boys?  The  reader  who  has  peeped  into  it  untenanted  shall 
now,  if  he  pleases,  be  introduced,  dum  fervet  opus  full  and  alive.  Should  he 
not  be  able  to  trace  out  very  clearly  the  systmi  at  work,  he  will  at  least  be  no 
worse  off  than  the  bee  fancier,  who  hears  indeed  the  buzzing,  and  sees  a  flux 
and  reflux  current  of  his  winged  confectioners  entering  in  and  passing  out,  Imt 
cannot  investigate  the  detail  of  their  labors  any  further.  In  the  Yverdun.  as 
in  the  hymenopterus  apiary,  we  swarmed,  we  Im/./i-d,  dispersed,  re  assembled  at 
the  sounf  of  the  bell,  flocked  in  and  flocked  out,  all  the  day  long;  exhibited 
much  restlessness  and  activity,  evincing  that  something  was  going  on,  but  what 
it  woiild  have  been  hard  to  determine.  Here  the  comparison  must  drop  Bees 
buzz  to  some  purpose ;  they  know  what  they  are  about ;  they  help  one  another : 
they  work  orderly  and  to  one  end, — 

"  How  skillfully  they  build  the  cell, 
How  neat  they  spread  the  wax, 
And  labor  hard  to  store  it  well 
With  the  nweet  food,"  etc.,  etc. 

In  none  of  these  particulars  did  we  resemble  the  "  busy  bee."  This  being 
admitted,  our  object  in  offering  a  few  words  upon  the  course  of  study  pursued 
at  the  chateau  is  not  with  any  idea  of  enlightening  the  reader  as  to  anything 
really  acquired  during  the  long  ten  hours'  session  of  each  day ;  but  rather  to 
show  how  ten  hours'  imprisonment  may  be  inflicted  upon  the  body  for  the  sup- 
posed advantage  of  the  mind,  and  yet  be  consumed  in  "  profitless  labor,  and 
diligence  which  maketh  not  rich  " ;  to  prove,  by  an  exhibition  of  their  opposites, 
that  method  and  discipline  are  indispensable  in  tuition,  and  (if  he  will  accept 
our  "pathemata"  for  his  "  mathemata,"  and  guides  in  the  bringing  up  of  his 
sons)  to  convince  him  that  education,  like  scripture,  admits  not  of  private 
interpretation.  Those  who  refuse  to  adopt  the  Catholic  views  of  the  age.  and 
the  general  sense  of  the  society  in  which  they  live,  must  blame  themselves  it 
they  find  the  experiment  of  foreign  schools  a  failure,  and  that  they  have  sent 
their  children  "farther  to  fare  worse." 


STUDENT  LIFE  AT  YVERDUN  UNDER  PESTALOZZI.        j  || 

And  now  to  proceed  to  the  geography  class,  which  was  the  first  after  break- 
ia>t.  and  hi'ii-iu  at  halt-pa.-t  eight  As  the  summons-hell  sounded,  the  hovs 
cume  rushing  and  tumbling  in.  and  ere  a  minute  had  elapsed  were  swarming1 
over,  and  settling  upon,  the  high  reading  desks  the  master,  already  at  his 
work,  was  chalking  out  the  business  of  the  hour ,  and  as  this  took  some  little 
time  to  accomplish,  the  youngsters,  not  to  sit  unemployed,  would  be  assiduously 
engaged  in  impressing  sundry  animal  forms— among  which  the  donkey  was  a 
favorite — cut  out  iu  cloth,  and  well  powdered,  upon  one  another's  backs.  When 

Herr  G had  finished  his  chalkings,  and  was  gone  to  the  corner  of  the  room 

for  his  show-perch,  a  skeleton  map  of  Europe  might  be  seen,  by  those  who 
choose  to  look  that  way,  covering  the  slate .  this,  however,  was  what  the  major- 
ity of  the  a.— enilily  never  dreampt  of,  or  only  dreampt  they  were  doing.  The 
class  generally — though  ready  when  called  upon  to  give  the  efficient  support  of 
their  tongues — kept  their  eyes  to  gape  elsewhere,  and,  like  Solomon's  fool,  had 
them  where  they  had  no  business  to  be.  The  map,  too  often  repeated  to  attract 
from  its  novelty,  had  no  claim  to  respect  on  other  grounds.  It  was  one  of  a 
class  accurately  designated  by  that  careful  geographer,  old  Homer,  as  "  fiaty  ov 
Kara  Kna/nov."  Coarse  and  clumsy,  however,  as  it  necessarily  would  be,  it 
might  still  have  proved  of  service  had  the  boys  been  the  draughtsmen.  As  it 

was,  the  following  mechanically  Herr  G 's  wand  to  join  in   the  general 

chorus  of  the  last  census  of  a  city,  the  perpendicular  altitude  of  a  mountain, 
or  the  length  and  breadth  of  a  lake,  could  obviously  convey  no  useful  instruc- 
tion to  any  one.  But,  useful  or  otherwise,  such  was  our  regim*, — to  set  one  of 
from  fifty  to  sixty  lads,  day  after  day,  week  after  week,  repeating  facts  and 
figures  notorious  to  every  little  reader  of  penny  guides  to  science,  till  all  had 
the  last  statistical  returns  at  their  tongue's  tip,  and  knew,  when 'all  was  done, 
as  much  of  what  geography  really  meant  as  on  the  day  of  their  first  matricula- 
tion. Small  wonder,  then,  if  some  should  later  have  foresworn  this  study,  and 
been  revolted  at  the  bare  sight  of  a  ma)) '  All  our  recollections  of  map,  unlike 
those  of  personal  travel,  are  sufficiently  distasteful  Often  have  we  yawned 
wearily  over  them  at  Yverdun,  when  our  eyes  were  demanded  to  follow  the 

titubations  of  Herr  G '&  magic  wand,  which,  in  its  uncertain  route,  would 

skip  from  Europe  to  Africa  and  back  again—  qui  modo  Thebas  wodo  me  ponit 
At  hen  is ;  and  our  dislike  to  them  since  has  increased  amazingly.  Does  the 
reader  care  to  be  told  the  reason  of  this1  Let  him — in  order  to  obtain  the 
pragmatic  sanction  of  some  stiff-necked  examiner — have  to  "get  up"  all  the 
anastomosing  routes  of  St.  Paul's  several  journcyiugs ,  have  to  follow  those 
rebellious  Israelites  in  all  their  wanderings  through  the  desert ,  to  draw  the 
line  round  them  when  in  Palestine ;  going  from  Dan  to  Beersheba,  and  "  meting 
out  the  valley  of  Succoth  " ;  or,  finally,  have  to  cover  a  large  sheet  of  foolscap 
with  a  progressive  survey  of  the  spread  of  Christianity  during  the  three  first 
centuries — and  he  will  easily  enter  into  our  feelings.  To  return  to  the  class- 
room The  geographical  lesson,  though  of  daily  infliction  was  accurately  cir- 
cumscribed in  its  duration.  Old  time  kept  a  sharp  look-out  over  his  blooming 
daughters,  and  never  suffered  one  hour  to  tread  upon  the  heels  or  trench  upon 
the  province  of  a  sister  hour.  Sixty  minutes  to  all,  and  not  an  extra  minute 
to  any,  was  the  old  gentleman's  impartial  rule ;  and  he  took  care  to  see  it  was 
strictly  adhered  to.  As  the  clock  struck  ten,  geography  was  shoved  aside  by 
the  muse  of  mathematics.  A  sea  of  dirty  water  had  washed  out  in  a  twinkling 
all  traces  of  the  continent  of  Europe,  and  the  palimpset  slate  presented  a  clean 
face  for  whatever  figures  might  next  be  traced  upon  it 


14'J  >Tt  DENT  LIFE  AT  YVERDUN  UNDER  PESTALOZZI. 

The  hour  for  Euclidizing  was  arrived,  and  ation  the  black  parallelogram  \vas 
intersected  with  numerous  triangles  of  the  Isosceles  and  Scalene  pattern  ;  but, 
notwithstanding  this  promising  debut,  we  did  not  make  much  quicker  progress 
here  than  in  the  previous  lesson.  How  should  we,  who  had  not  only  the  diffi- 
culties inseparable  from  the  subject  to  cope  with,  but  a  much  more  formidable 
difficulty — vi/.,  the  obstruction  which  we  opposed  to  each  other's  advance,  by 
the  plan,  so  unwisely  adopted,  of  making  all  the  cla.-s  do  the  same  thing,  that 
they  might  keep  pace  together.  It  is  a  polite  piece  of  folly  enough  for  a 
whole  party  to  be  kept  waiting  dinner  by  a  lounging  guest,  who  chooses  to  ride 
in  the  park  when  he  ought  to  be  at  his  toilet;  but  we  were  the  victims  of  a 
much  greater  absurdity,  who  lost  what  might  have  proved  an  hour  of  profitable 
work,  out  of  tenderness  to  some  incorrigibly  idle  or  Boeotian  boy,  who  could 
not  get  over  the  Pons  Asinorum,  (every  proposition  was  a  pons  to  some  asinus 
or  other,)  and  so  made  those  who  were  over  stand  still,  or  come  back  to  help 
him  across.  Neither  was  this,  though  a  very  considerable  drawback,  our  only 
hindrance — the  guides  were  not  always  safe.  Sometimes  he  who  acted  in  that 
capacity  would  shout  "  Eureka  "  too  soon ;  and  having  undertaken  to  lead  the 
van.  lead  it  astray  till  just  about,  as  he  supposed,  to  come  down  upon  the  proof 
itself,  and  to  come  down  with  a  Q.  E.  D. :  the  master  would  stop  him  short, 
and  bid  him — as  Coleridge  told  the  ingenious  author  of  Guesses  at  Truth — "to- 
guess  again."  But  suppose  the  "guess"  fortunate,  or  that  a  boy  had  even  suc- 
ceeded, by  his  own  industry  or  reflection,  in  mastering  a  proposition,  did  it 
follow  that  he  would  be  a  clear  expositor  of  what  he  knew  ?  It  was  far  other- 
\\ise.  Our  young  Archimedes — unacquainted  with  the  terms  of  the  science,. 
and  being  also  (as  we  have  hinted)  lamentably  detective  in  his  knowledge  of. 
the  power  of  words — would  mix  up  such  a  "  fan-ago  "  of  irrelevancies  and  rep- 
etitious with  the  proof,  as,  in  fact,  to  render  it  to  the  majority  no  proof  at  all. 
Kuelid  should  be  taught  in  his  own  words, — just  enough  and  none  to  spare : 
the  employment  of  less  must  engender  obscurity  :  and  of  more,  a  want  of  neat- 
ness and  perspicacity.  The  best  geometrician  ani-ni^st  us  would  have  cut  but 
a  bad  figure  by  the  side  of  a  lad  of  very  avera^-.-  ability  brought  up  to  know 
Euclid  by  book. 

Another  twitch  of  the  bell  announced  that  the  hour  for  playing  at  triangles  - 
had  expired.  In  five  minutes  the  slate  was  covered  with  bars  of  minims  and 
crotchets,  and  the  music  lesson  begun.  This,  in  the  general  tone  of  its  delivery, 
bore  a  striking  r.  semblance  to  the  geographical  one  of  two  hours  before;  the- 
only  difference  being  that  "  ut,  re,  me,"  had  succeeded  to  names  of  certain 
cities,  and  "  fa,  so,  la,"  to  the  number  of  their  inhabitants.  It  \\<.uid  be  as- 
vain  an  attempt  to  describe  all  the  noise  we  made  as  to  show  its  rationale  or 
motive.  It  was  loud  enough  to  have  cowed  a  lion,  stopped  a  donke\  in  mid- 
bray — to  have  excited  the  envy  of  the  vocal  Lablache,  or  to  have  sent  any 
pnma  donna  into  hysterics.  When  this  third  hour  had  been  bellowed  away. 
and  the  bell  had  rung  unheard  the  advent  of  a  fourth — presto — in  came  Mons 

D ,  to  relieve  the  meek  man  who  had  acted  as  corypha-us  to  the  music  class : 

and  after  a  little  tugging  had  soon  produced  from  his  pocket  that  without 
which  you  never  catch  a  Frenchman— a  thtmp.  The  theme  heinir  announced, 
we  proceeded  (not  quite  tant  lien  que  mat)  to  scribble  it  down  at  his  diet;  ti«m, 
and  to  amend  its  orthography  afterwards  from  a  corrected  copy  on  the  slate. 
Once  more  the  indefatigable  bell  obtruded  its  tinkle,  to  proclaim  that  Ilerr  Roth 
was  coming  with  n  Fable  of  Gellert,  or  a  chapter  from  Vater  Pestalo/.x.i's  serious  , 


STUDENT  LIFE  AT  YVEUDUN  UMDER  PESTALOZZI.        14$ 

novel,  (iinnal  und  Lino,  to  read  and  expound,  and  catechise  upon.  This  la<t 
!«•  >  'ii  lu-i'oiv  dinner  was  always  accompanied  hy  frequent  yawns  and  other  un- 
repressed  symptoms  of  fatigue;  and  at  its  conclusion  we  all  rose  with  a  shout 
ind  rushed  into  the  corridors. 

On  resuming  work  in  the  afternoon,  there  was  even  less  attention  and  method 
observed  than  before.  The  classes  were  then  broken  up,  and  private  lessons 
were  given  in  accomplishments,  or  in  some  of  the  useful  arts.  Drawing  dogs 
and  cows,  with  a  master  to  look  after  the  trees  and  the  hedges;  whistling  and 
spitting  through  a  flute;  playing  on  the  patience  of  a  violin;  turning  at  a 
lathe;  or  fencing  with  a  powerful  muttre  d'  Armes; — such  were  the  general 
occupations.  It  was  then,  however,  that  we  English  withdrew  to  our  Greek 

and  Latin  ;  and,  under  a  kind  master,  Dr.  M ,  acquired  (with  the  exception, 

of  a  love  for  natural  history,  and  a  very  unambitious  turn  of  mind)  al'  that 
really  could  deserve  the  name  of  education. 

We  have  now  described  the  sedentary  life  at  the  chateau.  In  the  next  paper 
the  reader  shall  be  carried  to  the  gymnasium  ;  the  drill-ground  behind  the  lake  ; 
to  our  small  menageries  of  kids,  Guinea-pigs,  and  rabbits;  be  present  at  our 
ball  and  skating  bouts  in  winter,  and  at  our  bathings,  fishings,  frog-spearings, 
and  rambles  over  the  Jura  in  summer. 

We  regret  not  to  have  seen  the  second  installment  of  this  English  boy's 
Reminiscences  of  Student  Life  at  Yverdun.  If  written,  it  was  not  pub- 
lished in  the  magazine  in  which  the  first  appeared.  The  student  does 
not  appear  to  have  appreciated  or  have  profited  by  Pestalozzi's  origi- 
nal methods,  which  are  herein  so  well  set  forth.  He  was  not  caught 
young  enough  and  had  become  too  hardened  in  the  unvitalized  and 
mere  memory  processes  of  the  English  public  schools. 

REMINISCENCES   OF   DR.    MAYO. 

We  find  in  the  reminiscences  and  life  of  another  English  visitor,  who 
became  both  student  and  assistant  at  Yverdun,  a  more  hearty  apprecia- 
tion of  the  great  educator's  personal  character,  and  the  fruitful  results 
of  his  sojourn  in  the  old  feudal  castle  and  in  the  somewhat  noisy  family 
and  not  very  wisely  administered  institution  of  Pestalozzi.  We  close 
this  chapter  with  an  extract  from  a  pamphlet  issued  by  Rev.  Charles 
Mayo,  LL.D.,  in  1826,  giving  the  substance  of  several  lectures  deliv- 
ered by  him  in  the  Hoyal  Institution  in  Albemarle  Street  (founded  by 
that  great  practical  educator  and  countryman  of  ours,  Count  Rumford — 
Benjamin  Thompson,  of  Walpole,  Mass.),  on  the  principles  of  Pesta- 
lozzi's  educational  system.  Dr.  Mayo  and  his  daughter  introduced  into 
England  the  Pestalozzi  improved  methods  of  infant  and  child  instruc- 
tion, which  were  pursued  in  the  Model  and  Training  Schools,  of  the 
Home  and  Colonial  Society  in  London,  and  which  Mr.  Sheldon  intro- 
duced a  quarter  of  a  century  later  into  the  Model  and  Training  Institu- 
tion of  Ostvrgo,  N.  Y. 

Some  years  ago  an  Irish  gentleman,  traveling  through  Yverdun,  in  the  Pays 
de  Viiud,  was  prevailed  on  to  spend  a  couple  of  hours  in  the  Institution  of 
iV-talozzi  The  iirst  class  he  inspected  was  carried  on  in  a  language  not  famil- 
iar to  him,  yet  was  In-  much  struck  with  the  intelligence  and  vivacity  portrayed 
in  the  features  of  the  pupils.  But  when,  the  following  hour,  he  witnessed  the 


j  44  STUDENT  LIFE  AT  YVEBDUN  UNDER  PESTALOZZI. 

power  of  the  method  in  its  application  to  arithmetic,  he  discovered  in  the  schol- 
ars a  clear  conception  of  number  and  its  relations,  a  precision  and  rapidity  in 
mental  calculation,  and  an  animation  and  interest  in  their  employment,  which 
convinced  him  that  a  secret  had  been  discovered  by  Pestalozzi,  and  he  was 
resolved,  if  possible,  to  penetrate  it.  The  proposed  visit  of  two  hours  termin- 
ated at  the  expiration  of  three  months  ;  nor  wns  his  admiration  of  the  method 
confined  to  a  bare  speculative  reception  of  the  principles ;  he  transplanted  into 
his  own  country  the  practical  truths  he  had  learned  in  Switzerland,  and  though 
Providence  has  interrupted  the  course  of  his  more  extended  labors,  he  still,  in 
the  bosom  of  his  own  family,  applies  the  lessons  of  Pestalozzi,  and  teaches  his 
children  to  revere  his  name.  It  was  not  a  theoretical  examination  of  the  method 
that  effected  this  conviction  and  animated  to  these  exertions  ;  it  was  a  personal 
view  of  the  practical  influence  of  the  system,  in  scenes  lit  up  by  the  genius  and 
warmed  with  the  benevolence  of  Pestalozzi  himself.  Could  I  transport  you  in 
thought  to  the  scenes  where  Pestalozzi  lived,  and  taught,  and  suffered  with  his 
scholars,  tin-  heart  would  feel  even  before  the  understanding  discerned  the 
beauty,  the  truth  of  his  principles.  A  skeleton  view  of  his  system  might  lead 
you  to  a  cold  approbation  of  his  views,  Tbat  it  must  be  the  living,  the  breathing 
portraiture  of  the  man  that  must  awaken  your  love,  and  dispose  you  to  imitate 
what  you  have  learned  to  admire.  I  have  seen  him  surrounded  by  his  pupils, 
have  marked  the  overflowings  of  his  tenderness;  I  have  read  in  a  thousand 
traits  of  good-nature  the  confirmation  of  his  history.  I  have  witnessed  the 
affecting  simplicity,  the  abandon  with  which  he  speaks  of  all  he  has  done  and 
essayed  to  do  for  humanity.  Could  I  convey  to  others  the  sentiments  I  feel  for 
him,  Pestalozzi  would  be  loved  and  honored  as  he  deserves.  Three  years  of 
intimate  connection  with  him,  every  day  marked  with  some  proof  of  his  affec- 
tion, may  well  have  knit  my  heart  to  his;  and  among  the  most  cherish. d  r, -col- 
lections of  the  past  is,  that  Pestalo/./.i  honored  me  with  his  friendship,  and 
thanked  me  for  cheering  his  decline. 

HENRY  (LORD)  BROUGHAM. 

Among  the  English  visitors  to  Pestalozzi,  whose  testimony  to  the 
originality  and  value  of  his  methods  as  well  as  to  the  disinterested 
character  of  the  man,  before  the  Education  Committee  of  1818,  car- 
ried immense  weight  wherever  the  proceedings  of  the  English  parlia- 
ment were  known,  was  Henry  Brougham.  He  commenced  in  1816  that 
public  agitation  of  the  claims  of  the  people  to  better  schools  which 
culminated  in  the  legislation  of  1870. 

It  was  Pestalozzi  and  men  of  his  type  who  inspired  the  Great 
Commoner  of  England,  as  Henry  Brougham  was  called  before  a  title 
had  confounded  him  with  a  group  of  much  inferior  men,  with  his 
exalted  estimate  of  the  schoolmaster  in  his  peaceful  vocation. 

"His  calling  is  high  and  holy;  his  fame  is  the  property  of  nations;  his 
renown  will  fill  the  earth  in  after  ages  in  proportion  as  it  sounds  not  far  off  in 
his  own  time.  Each  one  of  these  great  teachers  of  the  world,  possessing  his 
soul  in  peace,  performs  his  appointed  course, —awaits  hi  patience  the  fulfillment 
of  the  promises, — resting  from  his  labors,  bequeaths  his  memory  to  the  genera- 
tion whom  his  works  have  blessed, — and  sleeps  under  the  humble  but  not  inglo- 
rious epitaph,  commemorating  one  in  whom  mankind  lost  a  friend,  and  no  man 
got  rid  of  an  enemy." 
' 


PESTALOZZIANISM  IN  GERMANY, 


JOHAAN   GOTTLIEB  FICHTE. 

JOHAAN  GOTTLIEB  FICHTE,  whose  rousing  addresses  to  the  Ger- 
man nation  in  behalf  of  National  Education  on  the  Pestalozzian 
system,  in  the  hour  of  her  greatest  humiliation,  was  worth  more 
than  a  victorious  onset  of  arms  against  her  foes,  was  born  at  Ram- 
menau,  in  Upper  Lusatia,  in  1762,  of  parents  of  Swedish  de- 
scent, and  in  humble  circumstances.  His  father  was  a  ribbon 
weaver,  and  the  son  was  indebted  for  his  superior  opportunities 
of  education  to  the  Baron  Von  Miltitz,  who  secured  a  place  for 
him  first  in  a  clergyman's  family  at  Niederau,  then  at  the  town 
school  at  Meissen,  and  at  the  Princes'  school  at  Pforta  (1774-80), 
closing  with  higher  and  larger  opportunities  at  Jena  and  Leipsic. 

While  a  private  tutor  at  Zurich  (1789  to  1792),  he  became 
acquainted  with  the  educational  views  of  Pestalozzi,  and  with 
Johanna  Rahn,  a  neice  of  the  poet  Klopstock,  to  whom  he  was 
married  in  1793. 

Thus  equipped  he  entered  the  field  of  intellectual  and  moral 
philosophy,  and  by  his  publications  and  lectures  achieved  a  repu- 
tation which  ranks  him  high  among  the  great  thinkers  of  Germany, 
and  by  his  bold  advocacy  of  a  national  system  of  popular  and 
liberal  education,  when  a  foreign  army  had  possession  of  all  the 
fortresses  and  cities  of  the  country,  entitles  him  to  a  place  among 
the  world's  great  educators.  His  death,  in  1812,  cut  short  the 
influential  career  which  his  connection  with  the  new  University  of 
Berlin  opened. 

FICHTE'S  ADDRESSES  TO  THE  GERMAN  PEOPLE,  1809. 
Fichte's  addresses  to  the  German  people  belong  primarily  to  the 
political  history  of  the  nation  in  the  period  of  its  deepest  humil- 
iation, but  they  are  well  entitled  to  a  distinguished  and  honor- 
able place  in  its  literary  and  educational  annals.  Among  the 
many  striking  phenomena  of  that  eventful  period,  there  is  none 
that  exceed  in  real  interest  and  instructiveness  this  one  of  a  liter- 
ary man,  single  handed  and  surrounded  by  foreign  troops,  setting 
before  him  as  a  duty  which  he  of  all  others  was  called  upon  to 
fulfil,  the  task  of  a  people's  regeneration.  Uniting  the  patriot's 


14tt  PESTALOZZIANI8M  IN   GERMANY. 

enthusiasm  with  the  prophet's  inspiration,  Fichte  raised  a  voice- 
which  rang  through  every  corner  of  Germany,  and  summoned  to* 
the  rescue  of  his  country,  all  that  remained  of  nobleness  and 
devotion  among  her  sons.  It  was  to  no  vain  display  of  military 
glory  that  he  roused  and  directed  their  efforts;  he  sought  to  erect 
the  structure  of  his  country's  future  welfare  and  fame  on  a  far 
deeper  and  surer  foundation.  In  strains  of  the  most  fervid  and 
impassioned  eloquence  he  pointed  out  the  true  remedies  for  the 
national  degradation,  the  culture  of  moral  dignity,  spiritual  free- 
dom, and  mental  independence.  In  these  addresses  he  first 
announced  the  plan,  and  delineated  all  the  chief  features  of  tl  at 
celebrated  system  of  public  instruction  which  has  since  been  de- 
veloped to  the  inestimable  benefit  of  Prussia,  and  raised  her  in 
this  respect  to  a  proud  preeminence  among  the  nations  of  Europe. 
Never  were  a  people  called  upon  to  arouse  themselves  to  a  nobler 
enterprise,  and  never  was  such  a  summons  pealed  forth  in  tones 
of  more  manly  and  spirit-stirring  energy. 

These  addresses  were  fourteen  in  number.  After  speaking  of 
the  general  principles  of  the  new  education  which  he  proposed, 
Fichte  devoted  several  lectures  to  the  question  of  national  charac- 
teristics, to  the  main  difference  between  the  German  and  tho 
other  Teutonic  peoples,  as  revealed  in  history,  and  in  their  general 
life,  and  to  the  question  of  what  really  constituted  a  nation  in  the 
higher  significance  of  the  term,  as  well  as  what  constitutes  true 
patriotism.  In  the  tenth  address  he  comes  to  a  more  definite 
treatment  of  the  details  of  the  education  which  he  proposes;  and 
in  the  addresses  which  follow,  he  points  out  the  classes  on  whom 
rest  the  responsibility  of  executing  this  plan,  and  what  are  the 
proper  means  of  its  execution.  We  cite  a  few  passages  from  the 
tenth  address  on  Pestalozzi  and  his  system. 

"Pestalozzi  must  needs  remain  in  the  history  of  our  age  one  of  the- 
most  extraordinary  and  beautiful  phenomena.  This  his  contemporaries 
fed;  posterity  \\ifl  Appreciate  it  still  more  deeply." 

To  the  course  of  instruction  which  has  lu-cn  invented  and  l>nniLrlit 
forward  by  Henry  Pestalozzi,  and  which  is  now  being  successfully  carried 
out  under  his  direction  —  must  we  look  for  our  regeneration.  .  .  With 
thi<  system  of  popular  education  for  the  entire  rising  generation  must  the- 
nation  address  itself  —  at  once  and  persistently. 

It  will  be  seen  from  the  following  pages,  taken  from  the  His- 
tory of  Primary  Public  Instruction  in  Prussia  (Barnard's  National 
Education  in  Different  Countries;  volume  one  —  German  States, 
pp.  360-69),  that  the  trial  of  Pestalozzianism  in  Normal  and  Mod- 
el Schools  had  already  begun  before  Fichte's  eloquent  voice  had 
been  heard  in  its  advocacy. 


IN  GERMANY  147 

Dr.  Diesterweg  concludes  his  Pestalozzian  centennial  discourse  at  Bei 
lin  in  1846  as  follows: 

By  these  men  and  these  means  —  men  trained  in  the  Institution  at 
Y verdun  under  I'otalo/./.i  and  the  study  of  his  publication,  and  the  appli- 
cation of  these  principles  in  the  model  and  normal  schools  of  Prussia 
after  1808,  was  the  present  Prussian  or  rather  Prussian-Pestalozzian 
school  system  established  —  for  he  is  entitled  to  at  least  half  the  fame  of 
the  <;ennan  popular  schools.  Whatever  of  excellence  or  eminence  they 
have,  they  really  owe  to  no  one  but  him.  Wherever  his  principles  have 
been  deviated  from,  there  has  followed  a  decline.  \Yhatever  of  progress-  \ 
yet  remain*  visible  is  a  development  of  his  principles.  Whatever  in  our 
.1  is  based  on  human  nature,  is  taken  from  him.  His  experiments 
have  secured  their  world-wide  fame  to  the  German  schools.  From 
France.  England,  Italy,  Spain,  Russia,  Poland,  Norway,  Sweden, 
Holland,  Denmark,  America,  whoever  desires  to  study  the  best  schools,  *• 
resorts  to  Germany.  Whatever  fame  they  have,  they  owe  to  Pestalo/./.i. 
Wise  people  have  made  use  of  his  creations  for  orirani/.imr  improved  in 
stitutions  for  training  teachers.  But  the  first  impulse  was  given  to  the 
movement  by  the  noble  Swiss.  As  the  waters  flow  from  that  land  in 
every  direction,  in  like  manner  have  fruitful  principles  of  instruction  been 
diffused  from  it  into  every  country  where  improvement  can  be  detected. 

The  men  and  women  by  whom  especially  the  method  and  spirit  of 
iozzi  were  diffused  in  Germany  are  :  Frederick  William  III  and  his- 
Consort  Louise  ;*  state  councilors  Nicolovius  and  Suvern  ;  the  philoso- 
pher Fichte.  by  his  immortal  addresses  to  the  German  nation  ;  high  school- 
councilor  Zeller  in  Konii:>berg;  the  Prussian  teachers  trained  at  Y  ver- 
dun; namely,  Kawerau,  Dn  i-i,  Ilenning,  Braun,  Steger,  Marsch.  the  two 
Bernhards,  Hanel,  Titze,  Runge,  Baltrusch,  Pat/in.  Preus>.  Krat/,  and 
Rendschmidt ;  royal  and  school  councilor  Von  Turk  in  Potsdam  :  ^  mi- 
narv  director  (Jruner  in  Idstein;  professor  Ladomus  in  Cailsruhe;  the 
prelate  Hen/el  in  E^lingen;  seminary-director  Stern  in  Carlsruhe;  prin- 
cipal Plamaun,  in  Berlin;  seminary  director  Harnisch  in  Breslaa;  Karo- 
line  Rudolphi  in  Heidelberir:  P»<-tty  Gleim  in  Bremen  and  Elbcrfcld; 
Ramsaucr,  royal  tutor  in  Oldenberg;  professor  Schacht  in  Mentz;  M  m 
inary-inspector  Kruirer  in  Hun/.lau;  seminary  director  Hientzsch  in  Pots- 
dam; principal  Scholz  in  Breslau;  Dr.  Tillich  in  Dessau;  director  Bloch- 
mann  in  Dresden;  principal  Ackermann  in  Frankfort  on  the  Mayne;. 
principal  de  Laspe  in  Wiesbaden;  seminary-inspector  Wagner  in  Bri'ihl; 
seminary  director  Braun  in  Neuwied;  seminary-preceptor  Muhl  in  Trier; 
seminary-director  (iraffmann  in  Stettin;  eatechi-t  Kroger  in  Hamburg- 
inspector  Collmann  in  Cassel;  and  others.  By  means  of  these  men. 
the  Pestalozzian  common  schools  were  set  in  operation  throughout  all 
Germany;  and  in  Prussia,  the  Prus-iaii-Pestalozzian  system.  As  during 
IVstalo/./.i's  life  Y  verdun  was  a  place  of  pilgrimage  for  teachers,  so  after- 
ward, from  Europe,  America,  and  elsewhere,  men  came  to  observe  the 
German  and  Prussian  common  schools. 


•Queen  Louise.  \\hn  superintended  (he education  of  her  own  children,  visited  frequently 
tin-  schools  o-omliictccl  on  the  plans  and  im-thoils  nf  IVstalozzi.  s|»eii(lin<r  hours  in  each  visitw 
and  aided  in  many  ways  those  who  labored  to  regenerate  the  popular  schools  of  Prussia. 


148  I'lin.ir  i.\srui  <  THIN  IN  nn  ^-i  \ 

A.  General  Historical  Remarks. 

1.  It  is  these  men  who  laid  the  foundation  of  the  real  power  of  Prussiat 
and  whose  labors  made  the  steady  development  of  a  true  system  of 
public  education  possible,  compared  with  which,  all  that  had  been  done 
before  must  appear  poor,  of  subordinate  value,  and  of  a  merely  prepara- 
tory character.     The  inhabitants  <>f  towns,  not  to  speak  of  the  peasant.-, 
had  hitherto  been  scarcely  willing  to  be  educated,  however  earnestly  the 
government  labored  in  their  behalf.    A  man  of  the  rural  population,  >till 
kept  in  bondage,  could  not  become  a  teacher,  even  if  he  had  been  willing, 
unless  his  grace  the  feudal  lord  consented,  who,  as  Rochow  himself  says, 
was  "king  of  Prussia''  on  his  estate.     Abbot  Stcinmetz  of  Klostei 
actually  boasted  in  1737  that  Magdeburg  were  a  good  plare  in  whi.-h  to 
procure  pupils  for  his  normal  school  from  among  the  immigrating  foreign 
journeymen  ;  the  feudal  lords,  too,  who  were  at  his  "  pedagogium,"  con- 
ducted by  him   in    Klostei l>er«ren,   frequently  left  servants  who  wu-e  ii.- 
convenient  as  candidates  for  schoolmasterships  at  the  normal  school, 
instead  of  taking  them  along  with  tin  in  to  the  University.     We  ivad  in 
Krucnitz's  "The  Village  Schools,  Berlin,  IT'.'l  :"     "The  schooling 
either  a  soldier,  school-boy,  servant,  or  he  ha>  l>em  preceptor,  famulus 
or  domestic  to  a  member  of  the  consistory."     "  Those  of  the  tirst  named 

MS  of  life,  mostly  show  great  looseness  in  morals,  and  an-  ig- 
norant of  the  duties  of  their  future  po>ition  ;"  nor  does  he  say  any  thing 
favorable  of  the  others.  The  teachers,  as  a  class,  were  mostly  recruited 
in  a  peculiar  manner,  somewhat  similar  to  the  'strand-right.'  Frederic 
II  was  certainly  not  so  very  wrong,  seeing  the  difficulty  of  filling  the 
vacancies  or  increasing  the  number  of  teachers,  when  he  calls  his  invalid 
corporals  a  source  from  which  any  supply  could  be  drawn.  A  sullicimt 
number  of  teachers,  coming  regularly  and  freely  from  the  people,  could 
not  be  relied  on  whilst  servitude  existed.  So  long  as  the  ma>s  of  a  people 
consists  of  bondmen,  who  expend  their  best  energies  in  working  for  their 
lords,  receiving  the  poorest  pay,  so  long  can  they  have  no  inducement 
tly  to  try  to  develop  their  intellectual  powers  or  to  educate  their 
children.  It  is  scarcely  just  to  call  it  want  of  moral  power,  when  they 
betray  opposition  to  their  children's  attending  school ;  they  are  sullen, 
they  are  indifferent,  they  are  altogether  morally  crushed.  Why  learn 
any  thing,  many  a  father  may  have  asked,  when  the  children  have  no 
other  prospect  but  villein  socage  ?  And  this  may  perhaps  make  it  com- 
prehensible why  Sack,  the  counselor  of  the  consistory,  ventured  to  say 
publicly  :  "It  sounds  very  fine,  when  we  speak  of  the  family  of  a  hard- 
working peasant,  sitting  round  their  comfortable  hearth  on  long  winter 
evenings,  listening  to  the  father  or  son,  as  he  reads  from  a  useful  book  ; 
but  this  is  certainly  nothing  but  an  ideal,  which  will  do  very  well  for  a 
romance,  but  which  can  scarcely  be  realized  in  this  matter-of-fact  world, 
at  least  in  the  Mark,  for  some  time  to  come."  And  the  peasants  of  the 
Mark  were  not  worse  off  than  those  of  other  sections. 

2.  Frederic  William  III  deserves  the  highest  praise  for  having  lifted 


I'l  HI.H      l.NMUl  (    1ION    IN    IMU'SWIA.  14Q 

from  tin-  nir;il  population  the  weight  of  serfdom,  which  prevented  all 
development  <>f  the  pcojil.-,  and  for  having  placed  them  in  a  condition  to 
become  free  men.  The  nation  awoke,  after  the  reform  of  the  State  organ- 
ization, to  the  consciousness  of  its  power,  and  developed  it;  a  sufficient 
number  of  well  qualified  individuals  of  the  rural  population  showed 
henceforth  a  stead  ilv  increa.-ing  desire  to  become  teachers  or  to  acquire 
know  -ledge.  The  >eed  scattered  during  school  time  could  now  take  root 
and  thrive  in  town  and  village.  The  town  population  derived  at  the 
same  time  great  advantages  from  the  new  "  city  constitution,''  which 
granted  them  the  right  of  self-government,  under  the  liberal  control  of 
the  State.  It  may  so  happen,  that  even  at  the  present  time  the  aldermen 
<-f  >»>iiie  poor  little  towns,  far  di>tant  from  active  commercial  intercourse, 
have  not  yet  done  all  that  could  be  desired,  i.  e.  there  may  be  such  places 
in  which  the  schools  have  not  yet  been  properly  established  and  cared  for ; 
yet  the  town-schools  of  Prussia  have  reached  such  development  and  have 
been  M»  liberally  endowed  during  the  fifty  years  of  the  existence  of  the 
city  constitution,  that  ail  preceding  efforts  appear  trifling,  and  their  future 
rity  is  fully  assured.  This  is  especially  true  of  Berlin.* 
ies  the  liberal  legislation  which  made  it  possible  that  schools  could 
tiouri>h,  other  expedients  were  employed  by  which  the  improvement  and 
extension  of  public  schools  in  Prussia  were  promoted.  The  assistance 
of  new  and  progressive  elements  from  abroad  was  introduced,  as  for  ex- 
ample by  Carl  August  /eller  (1809)  of  Wiirtemburg;  and  by  many  able 
men,  who  were  sent  into  other  countries  to  obtain  there  not  only  a  better 
understanding  of  the  great  problems  of  human  culture,  but  to  be  inspired 
with  greater  enthu>ia>m  for  their  solution.  In  the  letter  which  Baron 
von  Altenstein,  then  at  the  head  of  the  education  section  of  the  depart- 
ment of  the  Interior,  afterwards  Minister  of  Education  and  Worship, 
wrote,  under  date  of  September  llth,  1808,  to  Pestalozzi,  he  says  :  "the 
young  men  to  be  >ent  mu>t  draw  information  at  the  purest  source,  must 
study  not  some  branches  of  your  >ystem  of  education  and  instruction, 
but  become  intimately  penetrated  with  its  animating  spirit,  must  learn 
how  all  the  branches  work  in  their  mutual  relation  and  in  their  intimate 
connection;  must  learn,  under  the  guidance  of  its  venerable  originator 
and  hi  d  assistants,  how  to  apply  it;  must,  in  the  intercourse 

with  you,  not  only  thoroughly  develop  their  intellects,  but  also  warm 
their  hearts  for  their  duties  as  educators  ;  must  become  animated  with 
the  >ame  convictions  of  the  sacredness  of  their  duties  and  with  the  same 
ardent  desire,  which  inspired  you  to  devote  your  whole  life  to  iff  Thus 
were  gathered  a  large  number  of  young  men  from  Prussia  round  Pesta- 

*  Fur  the  very  in-triictiv.-  hi-tnry  of  the  development  <>f  public  instruction  in  that  city,  which 
takes  precedence  of  all  other  cities  in  the  liberal  expenditure  for  the  establishment  and  mainte- 
nance of  public  schools,  see  the  .Idmini-trntirr  Reports  on  schools  of  the  city  of  Berlin,  which 
have  been  drawn  up  nnd  published  by  the  mngistrate  of  Berlin,  annually,  since  1842.  Those  from 
1851  to  1860  are  republished  in  the  ''Berliner  Blattter"  (1864.)  No.  2  to  20.  Consult  also 
Studies  on  the  Mark,  Vol.  IX.  ;  Dietr.  Ritterhausen  :  Contribution*  to  the  history  of  the  Berlin 
•iturij  .-r/ino/.*,  I'.iTlri.  1-04.  pfijro  144. 

t  Stolzcnberg's  Contriln  r/»/i>  to  Hi-t,,r>i.  p.  -.'. 


150  ITMI.ir   INSTRUCTION   IN    PRUSSIA. 

loz/i  ;  who  faithfully  garnered  up  the  teachings  of  that  Swiss  educator, 
brought  them  into  their  country,  cultivated  and  developed  them,  as  the 
head  of  recently-established  normal  schools,  or  as  members  of  the  Board 
«»f  Kducation,  according  to  the  peculiar  condition  and  the  wants  of  the 
country,  and  rendered  the  name  of  Pestalozzi  better  known  and  honored 
than  it  had  ever  been  before.  Among  these  were  llennig  and  Dreist  of 
Riigenwalde  in  Pomerania,  Kawerau  of  Elbing,  Kratz  of  Winzig  in  Si- 
lesia, Renschmidt  of  Rosenburg  in  Silesia,  Preuss  and  Patzig  of  Kast 
Prussia;  the  brothers  Bernhard  of  Halle,  Ilaenel  of  Breslau,  Stegcr  of 
Prus>ia,  Marsh  of  Silesia,  Ksionzek  of  East  Prussia,  Titze  of  Silesia, 
Runge,  later  in  Potsdam  and  Bromberg,  and  Baltrusch  of  East  Prussia. 

It  was  quite  natural  that  the  Pestalozzian  school,  as  it  may  be  called 
for  brevity's  sake,  (it  originated  with  Pestalozzi,  yet  it  was  intellectually 
and  popularly,  though  not  politically,  developed  in  Prussia,  whilst  it  re- 
mained unchanged  in  other  German  States,)  took  hold  of,  or  rather  placed 
itsi-lf  in  connection  with,  every  thing  that  could  be  rendered  useful. 
Thus  (1.)  all  that  had  reference  to  the  country,  its  geography  and  his- 
tory, were  taught  with  the  German  language,  from  a  pedagogic  and  pat- 
ri<>ti  'point  of  view  ;  (2,)  Vocal  exercises,  in  the  social  meetings,  from 
which  the  modern  singing  societies,  even  the  singing  festivals,  derive 
their  origin  ;*  (3,)  Instruction  in  drawing,  principally  promoted  by  the 
private  drawing  school  of  Peter  Schmidt  in  Berlin;  (4,)  Instruction  in 
music  ;  (5.)  Perfect  development  of  the  body,  either  by  placing  them- 
selves in  connection  with  already  existing  establishments  for  physical 
culture,  (  TnriKtnatalten,)  or  establishing  new  ones. 

The  Prussian  Pestalozzi  school  was  essentially  religious,  and  had  even 
more  of  positive  Christianity  than  the  original  school  itself  of  Pestalozzi, 
yet  it  tolerated  all  difference  of  opinion  ;  it  was  more  religious  and  tol- 
erant than  its  age.  Though  active  in  various  directions,  it  had  a  sound 
foundation  ;  though  narrow-minded  in  some  respects,  it  had  a  liberalizing 
principle;  it  inspired  patriotism  in  the  hearts  of  the  young;  it  showed 
courage  in  its  weakness ;  the  friendly  hand  of  government  assisted  it  in 
its  troubles,  and  therefore  it  has  attained  glory  and  produced  glory. 
King  Frederic  William  IV  was  well  acquainted  with  Pestalozzi's  ideas, 
and  he  wrote  to  the  founders  of  the  German  Pestalozzian  sehool :  "The 
spirit  which  animated  Pestalozzi  in  his  life  and  actions  was  that  of  moral 
earnestness,  of  humility,  and  of  self-sacrificing  love  of  these  Christian 
virtues,  which  he,  inspired  by  something  higher,  exercised  during  all  his 
life,  although  the  true  understanding  of  the  source  from  which  he  de- 
rived his  power,  was  only  revealed  to  him  in  later  years.  For  he  himself 
confessed  to  me  that  he  had  found  in  Christianity  alone  the  comfort 
which  he  had  formerly  sought  in  vain  in  a  different  direction." 

3.  The  government  of  the  State,  in  the  hands  of  men  like  Silvern, 
Nicolovius,  and  other  noble  spirits,  was  little,  influenced  by  customs, 

*The  ninging  societies  of  men  (Maennergesang  fercine,)  owe  their  origin  and  development 
mainly  to  Fr.  Wilh.  Berner,  music  teacher  at  the  Normal  School  in  Breslau,  1813. 


PUBLIC   INSTRUCTION    IN    PRUSSIA.  151 

many  of  which  experience  had  proved  to  be  decrepid  and  worn  out,  but 
were  animated  by  an  ideal  which  appeared  to  promise  the  realization  of 
their  hopes.  The  Prussian  government,  with  faith  in  the  regenerating 
power  of  a  true  national  education,  determined  to  introduce  it.  And 
thus  it  was  that  Prussia,  still  smarting  under  Napoleon's  scourge,  took 
for  some  time  the  lead  of  all  the  German  States,  not  by  issuing  more  or 
less  ineffective  decrees,  but  by  actual  experiments  in  the  details  of  na- 
tional education.  There  was  spirit  and  life  in  Prussia,  there  was  much 
activity  in  doing  and  liberty  in  contriving,  with  little  outward  parade. 
Any  foreigner,  visiting  Prussia,  might  observe  that  the  vitalizing  breath 
•of  government,  like  the  spirit  of  God,  was  acting  upon  the  whole  people. 
Even  the  less  impulsive  could  riot  help  being  influenced  and  carried 
away  by  this  career  of  progress,  because  the  government  showed  a  firm 
resolution  to  press  right  on  toward  the  desired  goal.  The  work  was  cer- 
tainly begun  at  the  root,  by  the  most  earnest  endeavor  to  create  a  body 
of  professional  teachers  for  public  schools  ;  which  class  of  men,  consid- 
ering either  their  education,  or  their  number,  or  their  origin,  or  by  any 
law,  did  not  exist.  There  were  plenty  of  sacristans,  school-keepers,  and 
their  assistants,  but  in  truth  no  real  teachers  of  the  people.  How  could 
there  have  been  any  demand  for  such  teachers  before  there  was  a  people? 
There  always  were,  in  Prussia  as  well  as  elsewhere,  individuals,  noble- 
men, citizens,  peasants,  common  people,  but  there  was  no  Prussian 
people,  no  nation  in  the  kingdom  of  Prussia.  Frederic  William  III  has 
created  it,  essentially  by  the  abolition  of  serfdom,  verbally  by  his  sub- 
sequent appeal  "  To  my  people,"  which  brought  every  individual  into  a 
close  community  of  a  common  life,  death,  battle,  and  victory,  with  its 
king ;  and  induced  all  to  embark  in  an  enterprise  and  to  pass  through 
trials,  the  most  sacred  which  exist  for  a  nation.  The  youths  of  that 
nation,  no  longer  in  the  state  of  serfdom,  but  faithful  to  their  king  to  the 
death,  required  teachers,  if  there  was  any  real  intention  of  educating 
them.  This  work  could  hardly  be  done  either  by  the  buckram  old  sa- 
cristans, or  by  the  class  of  schoolmasters,  recruited  from  among  ancient 
tailors.  It  was  the  older  Pestalozzians,  so  graphically  characterized  by 
Harnisch,  who  were  the  progenitors  of  the  older  and  middle-aged  teachers 
in  the  Eastern  provinces,  and  among  whom  a  great  variety  of  shades  of 
opinion  may  be  observed.  In  Saxony,  for  instance,  the  education  of  the 
teachers — if  it  may  be  so  called — received  a  certain  coloring  from  the 
rationalism  of  the  clergymen.  New  normal  schools  were  established 
every  year,  mostly  by  the  government,  but  also  by  private  enterprise, 
particularly  in  Saxony,  to  satisfy  the  increasing  demand  for  teachers 
among  them.  There  were  new  normal  schools  in  Karalene  (1811,) 
Braunsberg  (1810,)  Marienburg  (1814,)  Jenkau,  (1815,)  Graudenz  (1817,) 
Neuzelle  (1817,)  Coeslin  (1816,)  one  in  1816  in  connection  with  the 
orphan  asylum  in  Bunzlau  (founded  1744.)  Older  establishments  were 
reorganized,  as  the  Evangelic  normal  school  in  Breslau  in  1812  (founded 
1753 ;)  the  Catholic  normal  school  in  Breslau  in  1813  (founded  1765  ; 


l.VJ  PUBLIC   INSTRUCTION    IN    PRUSSIA. 

the  old  Benin  seminary  for  sacristans  was  transferred  to  Potsdam  irv 
1817.  The  work  of  educating  teachers  was  carried  on  in  many  of  the- 
most  favored  of  these  establishments,  perhaps  with  a  one-sided  zeal,  but 
always  with  an  earnestness  and  with  a  success  which  reflects  honor  on 
their  founders  and  directors.  Nor  can  their  merits  be  disputed  of  having 
given  the  main  impulse  to  public  education,  of  having  been  its  principal 
promoters,  of  having  laid  the  foundation  to  the  structure  of  the  national 
M'stcm  of  schools,  whose  magnificence  is  now  so  evident,  and  which  had 
never  before  existed,  or  even  been  thought  possible  in  any  country.  In 
these  institutions,  mental  powers  were  awakened,  young  men  educated,, 
grown  men  inspired  with  enthusiasm  for  the  welfare  of  the  nation, 
methods  devised,  materials  found  out  and  rendered  useful,  objects  of 
teaching  rendered  accessible  to  public  schools,  expedients  for  a  better 
school  administration  pointed  out,  institutions  proposed — all  of  which 
undoubtedly  bear  witness  to  an  activity  never  thought  of  before.  Schools 
multiplied,  books  for  teachers  and  pupils  were  written,  pedagogic  period 
icals  published;*  all  of  which  favored  the  growth  of  a  literature  I'm- 
teachers,  who,  as  a  class,  became  more  and  more  prominent,  educated, 
and  respected,  whilst  they  were  formerly  scarcely  known  and  never 
mentioned.  Labor,  for  those  who  were  active  in  the  normal  schools  at 
that  time,  was  a  real  enjoyment  ;  the  school  was  considered  the  nn-nt* 
vagus  of  the  organism  of  the  State,  and  the  instrument  by  which  life 
was  to  be  reformed,  ennobled,  and  elevated.  "  The  teachers  could  not 
but  work  with  their  whole  heart  for  the  advancement  and  glory  of  the 
country.  They  would  eat  and  drink,  of  course  ;  the  Searcher  of  hearts 
knows  that  they  in  their  weakness  tried  to  advance  their  professional  and 
individual  honor,  and  that  they  frequently  were  feeble  laborers  in  His 
empire  ;  but  they  possessed  a  consciousness  which  others  did  not  pos- 
-•--  ;  they  felt  that  they  were  not  only  instructors,  not  only  school- 
masters, but  also  educators  of  the  nation  without  being  demagogues, 
friends  of  the  people  without  being  their  flatterers,  and  they  had  great 
influence  over  their  minds."  "  The  Prussian  Pestalozzi  school  was  intrin- 
sically religious;  it  spread  all  over  the  country  from  1812  to  1820,  having 
been,  though  in  the  beginning,  with  a  certain  caution,  very  properly  rec- 
ommended to  its  young  advocates  by  the  authorities,  because  many 
organs  of  State  and  school,  lost  in  their  old-fashioned  practice,  considered 
them  suspicious  innovators."  Harnish  believes  he  is  justified  in  saying 
"that  in  1820  to  1825  the  spirit  of  modern  school-organization  had 
become  the  ruling  spirit  of  education  in  the  whole  Prussian  empire." 
This  extension  was  greatly  assisted  by  certain  courses  of  lectures,  (i.  e. 
those  delivered  by  Bernhard,  Tuerk,  and  others,)  as  well  as  by  teachers' 
associations,  the  best  known  and  most  influential  of  which  was  that  in 
Berlin,  (now  called  the  Elder  Teachers'  Association,)  and  another  in 

•  Among  them  may  be  mentioned  ''The  School  Adviser  on  the  Oder,"  1814  to  1819,  a  period- 
ical which  represents  the  vigorous  spirit  of  thnt  time,  edited  by  the  director  of  the  Catholic 
norinnl  school.  Dr.  D.  Krueger,  nnd  the  director  of  the  Evnnnelic.  normal  school,  Dr.  W.  Hnrnish, 
in  a  spirit  of  harmonious  teacher  fellowship  never  before  evinced. 


PUBLIC    INSTRUCTION    IN    1'IllSSIA.  153- 

uiii.  The  principal  centres,  from  which  this  spirit  radiated,  were  the 
normal  schools;  wherefore  the  most  prominent  counselors  of  the  Board 
of  Kducation  were  more  or  less  in  connection  with  them.  This  is  espe- 
cially true  of  Tuerk,  Bernhard,  Schroer,  Gass,  Sckeyde,  and  Neumann. 
All  these  men,  laboring  in  the  same  spirit,  were  in  intimate  cooperation, 
being  either  personally  acquainted  with  each  other  from  the  start,  or 
brought  together  by  personal  visits  or  correspondence. 

Official  Reaction  against  Pestatozzianism. 

4.  During  the  great  events  of  1813  to  1815,  and  as  long  as  their  glow- 
ing fire  continued  to  inspire  statesmen  and  leaders  of  the  people,  i.  e.  till 
1819,  it  was  difficult  to  decide  whether  the  schools  derived  their  import- 
ance from  the  life  which  surged  around  them,  or  whether  their  importance 
was  due  to  their  intrinsic  power,  very  carefully  fostered  by  the  State 
authorities.  Up  to  that  time  the  friends  of  the  national  schools  in  Prussia 
had  been  animated  by  an  exclusively  educational  zeal.  But  soon  after 
1817,  in  which  year  the  king  had  created  a  separate  ministry  for  eccle- 
siastic and  medical  affairs,  and  for  instruction,  and  given  it  to  Baron  von 
Altenstein,  other  influence  obtained  ascendancy  over  the  government 
both  of  Prussia  and  other  States.  The  school  had  become  an  organ  of 
the  body  politic,  both  of  the  State  and  in  the  affection  of  the  people, 
which  could  not  be  undervalued;  the  school,  which,  in  the  opinion  of 
some  over-cautious  men,  had  taken  an  indiscreet,  progressive  course,  was 
checked,  though  at  first  mildly,  in  its  apparently  too  ardent  zeal.  The 
encouragements  of  the  authorities  were  no  longer  cheering,  natural,  frank, 
or  frequent ;  the  authorities,  who  had  formerly  favored  and  actually  fos- 
tered the  Pestalozzian  spirit  and  method  among  teachers,  especially  in 
Silesia  and  other  Eastern  provinces,  allowed  it  to  be  felt  that  a  degree  of 
displeasure  had  been  produced  by  the  openly  expressed  desire  to  infuse 
more  of  that  spirit  into  public  education ;  and  they  even  took  occasion 
to  express  to  Pestalozzians  their  dissatisfaction  of  the  strict  observance 
of  the  methods  of  their  school,  without  being  able  to  propose  any  remedy 
or  substitute.  They  considered  it  necessary  to  advise  tlu-m  not  to  act  too 
ra>hly,  not  to  attempt  to  teach,  to  try  or  to  oppose  too  much  at  the  time 
being.  They  then  began  to  speak  of  attempting  too  much,  and  recom- 
mended and  praised  moderation.  The  time  arrived  when  they  dared  to 
speak  of  u  the  limited  intellect  of  a  subject,  as  though  a  subject  was  not 
a  citizen  and  a  man."  Who  would  like  to  describe  that  period  of  reac- 
tion, after  having  lived  through  it?  For  the  young,  who  did  not,  it  has 
been  delineated  with  sufficient  power  in  Menzel's  general  history,  (vol. 
xii,  p.  80,  sq.)  But  the  normal  schools  had  diffused  already  too  much 
fresh  blood  and  spirit  into  the  teachers  of  the  so-called  "  old  provinces," 
and  the  previous  magnanimous  administration  had  allowed  it  to  affect 
the  schools  too  far,  that  the  fire  which  they  themselves  had  kindled, 
could  be  easily  quenched. 

Silesia  had  been  placed  in  advance  of  the  other  provinces  by  the  influ- 


154  PUBLIC  JNsnii  c  IIO.N  I.N   i-ui  »i.\ 

ence  of  young  Harnisch,*  in  Breslau  and  later  in  Bunzlau,  under  the  con- 
fiding and  inspiring  administration  of  president  Mcrkel,  and  of  Gass,  the 
counselor  of  the  consistory.  A  clergyman  of  the  Mark  represents  in 
"  School-counselor,"  (Schulrath  on  the  Oder,  page  120,)  the  Silesian 
schools  which  he  had  seen,  to  be  superior  to  those  of  the  Mark  ;  they 
were  certainly  superior  to  those  of  Saxony,  which  had  been  under  the 
Westphalian  regime.  Why  should  Harnisch  have  been  transferred  from 
Silesia  to  Saxony,  unless  for  the  purpose  of  purifying  these  institutions 
of  their  spirit  of  trivial  rationalism,  (established  by  Dinterand  Zerrenner, 
who  had  bee*i  considered  the  true  guardians  of  education,)  and  to  instil 
into  the  minds  of  the  young  generation  of  teachers,  sounder  Prussian  ideas 
and  feelings. 

Superintendent  Handel  labored  in  Neisse  in  harmony  with  Harnisch, 
though  with  more  moderation,  calling  to  his  assistance  Christian  Gottlieb 
Scholz,  (later  so  well  known  as  a  practical  schoolman  by  his  many  wri- 
tings, and  by  his  zeal,)  and  published  with  him  together  the  "  Schulbote" 
which  was  widely  circulated  and  read  in  the  province. 

Tuerk  had  initiated  rather  than  effected  a  radical  reform  in  Potsdam, 
when  Strieg,  now  honorably  pensioned,  began  his  beneficent  activity  as 
director  of  the  normal  school,  later  as  counselor  of  the  Board  of  Kduca- 
tion,  and  continued  to  work  with  zeal  and  success  for  many  years  by  his 
sound  judgment  and  moderation. 

There  was  in  Berlin,  even  in  1825,  when  Beckedorf  began  to  publish 
his  periodical,  no  remarkable  pedagogic  zeal. 

15.    HISTORICAL  REMARKS  ON   TUB  SEVERAL    NEWLY-ACQUIRED   PROVINCES. 

1.  Saxony. 

a.  The  province  of  Saxony,  containing  four  hundred  and  sixty  square 
miles,  with  two  millions  of  inhabitants,  mostly  Evangelic,  is  partly 
composed  of  portions  of  the  oldest  hereditary  possessions,  partly  of 
comparatively  recent  acquisitions,  (duchy  of  Magdeburg,  principalities  of 
Halberstadt  and  Erfurt,  the  former  cities  of  the  empire,  Miihlhausen, 
Nordhausen,  and  portions  of  the  Eichsfeld,)  and  lastly  of  a  portion  of 
the  kingdom  of  Saxony.  That  is,  it  was  formed  of  portions  of  Germany 
in  which  the  Reformation  had  its  birthplace,  and  where  the  German 
organization  of  schools  had  been  first  accepted  by  the  people.  WThen  the 
districts  before  mentioned  were  annexed  by  Prussia,  there  was  no  neces- 
sity for  the  government  to  establish  schools  ;  it  had  only  to  foster  and  to 
improve  them.  Magdeburg  with  Klosterbergen,  Halle  with  its  Francke 
foundation,  Halberstadt  with  its  teachers,  became  c.-ntres  for  a  quiet  but 
not  ineffective  instructional  activity  ;  so  were  Erfurt  and  Miihlhausen,  in 
their  own  way  and  according  to  their  power,  though  the  district  of  the 
Altmark  left  much  to  be  desired  for  a  long  time.  The  schools,  particu- 
larly those  in  the  country,  bore,  in  form  and  nature,  more  or  less  the 
character  of  those  of  the  other  German  States  of  the  same  religious  con- 

*  See  Hnrnisch   "  The  Morning  of  My  Life." 


PUBLIC    INSTRUCTION    IN    PRUSSIA.  155 

fessioii  and  family,  viz.,  the  teachers  were  mostly  sacristans  who  taught 
according  to  old  routine,  and  were  destitute  of  any  progressive  spirit ; 
the  arrangements  were  poor  and  traditional ;  their  effect  on  general  edu- 
cation very  moderate.  The  intrinsic  value  of  the  schools  in  the  province 
of  Saxony  was  measured  by  the  capacity  of  individual  teachers;  the  tra- 
ditional institutions  offered  no  other  obstacle  to  their  development  than 
the  teachers  themselves.  Where  there  happened  to  be  teachers  of  talent, 
zeal,  and  self-acquired  education — and  where  among  the  clever  men  in 
Saxony,  where  among  Evangelic  men  had  such  teacher  ever  been  abso- 
lutely wanting? — there  were  some  schools  which  might  be  held  out  as 
patterns  to  others.  Franke's  pedagogic  efforts  in  Halle,  and  the  activity 
•of  the  philanthropists  in  Saxony  and  Thuringia  had  always  kept  alive  a 
feeble  and  intermittent  love  of  instruction  and  education  among  clergy- 
men and  teachers.* 

I.  When  the  districts  beyond  the  Elbe  were  torn  from  the  Prussian 
monarchy  in  1807,  to  form  the  so-called  Westphalian  kingdom,  their 
administration  came  under  the  influence  of  Jerome's  government,  estab- 
lished in  Cassel ;  and  their  schools  were  not  in  a  very  favorable  condi- 
tion. How  could  a  work  be  done  in  those  times  of  war,  which  can 
flourish  only  in  peace ;  how,  in  those  days  of  intense  and  universal 
selfishness,  could  the  Held  of  education,  which  requires  self-denial  and 
•devotion,  be  tilled  ?  There  were  at  that  time  clergymen  and  teachers 
enough,  whose  labors  had  no  other  object  than  to  earn  the  applause  and 
the  favor  of  the  ministers  who  ruled  in  Cassel.  Zerrenner  in  Magdeburg, 
•clergyman,  teacher,  director  of  the  normal  school,  &c.,  did  not  shrink 
from  the  task  of  composing  and  publishing  a  ''Westphalian  Children's 
Friend,"  and  to  dedicate  it  to  a  prominent  man  of  the  Westphalian 
bureaucracy,  in  order  to  show  Westphalian  patriotism.  He  gained  by 
the  book  honor  and  position,  and  thus  a  great  influence  over  teachers 
and  schools  ;  it  brought  Magdeburg  into  the  repute  of  being  foremost  in 
the  organization  of  city  schools,  and  in  an  effective  system  of  instruction. 
With  the  hunianitarianism,  the  dignity,  the  circumspection  and  prudence 
peculiar  to  him,  he  organized  the  schools  of  the  district  according  to  his 
own  views,  and  succeeded  by  his  utilitarianism  and  sentimentality  in  sat- 
isfying the  population  of  those  districts.  Some  of  his  disciples  have 
even  been  able  to  make  their  fortune  by  the  liberal  use  of  Zerrenner's 
writings  and  precepts. 

c.  The  centre  of  the  pedagogic  activity  in  the  formerly  Prussian 
Saxony,  Halle,  having  allowed  Franke's  spirit  to  escape  from  among 
them,  had  ceased  to  be  the  representative  of  the  Saxon  views  of  an  im- 
proved system  of  instruction  and  education.  Niemeyer's  eclecticism 
could  not  obtain  or  restore  this  influence  either  by  his  pedagogic  lectures 
or  by  his  three  volumes  of  " Principles  of  education  and  instruction" 
The  centre  of  gravity  had  shifted  to  Dresden,  at  the  time  when  Dinter 
had  become  a  prominent  ecclesiastic  and  pedagogic  individual.  If  Zer- 
renner may  be  called  the  magnus  Apollo,  then  Dinter  deserves  to  be 

*  Barnard's  "  German  Educational  Reformers" 


156  PUBLIC  INSTRUCTION  IN  PRUSSIA. 


Kotv6s  of  the  rational  and  sentimental  art  of  teaching  at  that  time." 
Their  names  had  a  great  inHuenee  with  the  teachers,  their  clever  method 
in  teaching  gained  them  friends,  their  comprehensive  writings  were  con- 
sidered to  be  very  practical  and  very  useful  by  the  teachers  of  the  Elbe 
districts  of  Prussia  and  Saxony,  and  even  in  other  places  where  Pesta- 
lozzi's  method  has  never  been  able  to  gain  a  firm  footing.  Dinter  made 
I'e.-talo/xi  the  hero  of  a  satirical  poem,  which  he  published  in  Erfurt,  and 
with  which  the  publishers  made  me  a  present,  some  years  later  ;  subse- 
quently he  declared  Pestalozzi,  in  the  Napoleonic  style  of  those  years,  to 
be  king  of  the  lower  classes,  whilst  he  exalted  Socrates  to  the  leadership- 
of  the  higher,  at  the  same  time  reserving  for  himself  a  position  above  both. 
Zerrenner,  the  eclectic  and  diluted  mixture  of  Von  Rochow,  Bascdow,  and 
Niemeyer,  considered  Pestalozzi  to  be  a  man  who  inconvenienced  himself 
and  his  disciples  a  great  deal  too  much  by  the  amount  of  activity  which 
he  desired  and  made  necessary  ;  the  same  results  could,  in  his  opinion, 
be  obtained  much  easier  by  the  gentle  application  of  enlightening  inform- 
ation. "To  enlighten  the  brains,"  to  produce  correct  conceptions  by 
good  definitions,  that  was  his  preference,  his  passion,  his  talent.  His 
influence  and  his  writings  overflowed  land  and  people,  under  the  pretext 
that  they  aimed  at  a  popular  rationalism,  and  that  they  taught  an  en- 
lightened religion,  comprehensively  expressed,  in  place  of  an  obsolete 
theology.  Quails  rex,  tails  grex^  at  least  in  that  school  of  teachers  which 
had  its  origin  in  that  mar.  DNtinjrui.-hed  by  a  gentlemanly  appearance, 
by  pliant  smoothness  and  caution  of  expression,  it  seems  that  this  school 
was  wanting  in  power,  animation,  concentration,  and  particularly  in  a 
truly  Christian  spirit.  To  teach  generally  useful  knowledge  in  the 
abstract,  a  historical  comprehension  is  necessary,  which  it  did  not  pos- 
sess. Its  object  was  to  grow  more  clever  and  smarter  than  those  people 
who  lived  before  us  in  utter  darkness,  from  which  to  have  escaped 
people  should  be  thankful.  This  is  not  the  proper  place  to  show  the 
connection  of  the  "friends  of  light"  with  the  head-quarters  of  '  /»  rrenner, 
but  so  iniu-h  is  certain,  that  both  moved  on  the  same  circumference> 
although  it  can  not  be  said  that  the  doctrines  of  the  friends  of  light  orig- 
inated with  Zerrenner. 

'/.  Whilst  the  old  Saxon  districts  of  Prussia  were  influenced  by  Zer- 
renner, the  new  Saxon  districts  were  under  the  influence  of  Dinter, 
because  many  teachers  had  been  his  pupils,  and  most  of  them  were 
readers  and  admirers  of  his  writings.  The  Prussian  government  trans- 
ferred Harnisch  as  soon  as  possible,  (1822,)  from  Breslau  to  Weissenfels, 
in  the  southeastern  portion  of  the  province  of  Saxony,  as  director  of  the 
normal  school.  The  writer  of  these  lines  was  sent  (1840)  to  Erfurt,  in 
the  southwestern  portion  of  the  province,  where  Molkr  had  labored  so- 
long  as  teacher  at  the  normal  school,  and  as  counselor  of  the  consistory, 
with  as  much  circumspection  as  success.  This  was  done  to  protect  the 
increasing  number  of  young  teachers  in  Thuringia  against  the  widely 
spread  rationalism  which  had  already  taken  possession  of  the  souls  or 

*  See  Barnard's  "  Pestalozzi  and  Pestalozzianism." 


PUBLIC   INSTRUCTION    IN    PRUSSIA.  157 

was  bi-ing  nourished  from  \Veimar  and  Gotha,  (by  Roehr  and  Bret- 
schneider.)  Whilst  in  the  South  of  the  province  the  Prussian  teachers 
opened  their  hearts  to  a  Christian  life  in  and  with  the  people,  and  spread 
their  influence  with  more  or  less  evident  success,  as  particularly  in  Miihl- 
hausen  by  the  beneficent  cooperation  of  the  brave  teachers  Otto  and 
Fehre:  the  North  of  the  province  had  to  wait  patiently  for  a  long  time, 
till  the  Magdeburg  normal  school  could  be  removed  to  Barby,  till  the 
extinction  or  dissolution  of  private  normal  schools,  which  had  existed  so 
long  in  Eilenburg  and  Grosstreben  under  Zerrenner's  patronage,  could 
be  effected,  till  the  normal  school  at  Eisleben  could  be  reorganized,  and  a 
new  normal  school  could  be  established  in  Elsterwerda.  It  is  more  than 
probable  that  the  schools,  particularly  in  the  Northern  and  central  por- 
tions of  the  province,  had  their  silent  foster-fathers  and  tenacious  repre- 
sentatives in  opposition  to  those,  who  had  been  influenced  by  the  new 
normal  school  in  Weissenfels  since  1822,  and  in  Erfurt,  both  previous  to 
1829  and  subsequently  in  1840. 

e,  Harnish  did  not  escape  the  contests  which  Beckendorf  had  expected 
to  be  in  store  for  him,  when  he  went  to  Saxony.  Though  he  alludes  to 
them  in  his  "Description  of  the  Weissenfels  normal  school,  Berlin,  1838," 
it  is  to  be  regretted  that  he  has  not  been  able  to  continue  his  biography, 
because  the  plain  manner  in  which  he  wrote  would  have  represented  his 
position  in  all  its  importance  during  these  conflicts.  Short  allusions  can 
be  found  at  the  conclusion  of  Harnish's  work,  "  The  morning  of  my  life" 
p.  449!  "When  Erfurt  had  become  a  Prussian  town  again,  a  normal 
school  was  soon  established  there,  originally  by  the  private  exertions  of 
several  brave  men  who  had  the  improvement  of  schools  at  heart,  such  as 
counselor  K.  Hahn,  dean  Moller,  Cantor  Fischer,  K.  Reinthaler,  candidate 
for  ordination,  &c. ;  it  became  (1829)  a  State  institution  by  the  influence 
of  Zerrenner,  who  succeeded  in  procuring  for  parson  Sickel,  his  disciple, 
the  place  of  the  former  director,  Moller.*  He  was  succeeded  by  Philo,  in 
-October,  1840,  who  labored  to  revive  in  that  establishment  a  spirit  more 
in  harmony  with  the  Gospel  than  that  which  had  hitherto  governed  it. 

Stralsund  and  Pomerania. 

2.  The  governmental  district  of  Stralsund,  which  includes  the  duchy 
of  Vor  Pommern  or  Swedish  Pomerania,  (to  distinguish  it  from  the 
duchy  of  Vor  Pommern  belonging  to  the  district  of  Stettin,)  and  the  prin- 
cipality of  Riigen,  hence  the  country  North  of  the  Peene  river,  contains 
fourteen  towns,  and  was  annexed  in  1815.t  There  reigned,  till  1637,  the 

*  Dieslerweg's  Pedagogic  Germany,  Vol.  I.,  p.  286. 

t  The  contributor  of  these  communications  has  labored  these  eight  yean  as  a  teacher  in  different 
places  in  Vor  Pommern ;  he  therefore  writes  partly  from  his  own  observation  and  personal  expe- 
rience. Moreover  there  have  been  consulted  :  Mohnike  and  Zober,  Stralsund  Cfironicl.,  2  vols. 
Stralsund,  1833  ;  John  Jacob  Grumbke,  JVew  and  minute  geographical,  statistical,  and  historical 
Notes  on  the  island  of  Riigen,  2  vols.,  1819  ;  Biederstedt's  Collection  of  all  ecclesiastic,  6rc.  reso- 
lutions in  the  duchy  of  Vor  Pommern  and  Riigen,  2  vols.,  Stralsund,  1817  ;  Ohm's  Chronicl.  of 
the  town  of  Barth ;  Count  Krassow,  Contributions  to  the  history  of  JVeio  Vor  Pommern  and 
Rugen,  fifty  years  ago  ;  and  at  the  present  time,  Greifswalde,  1865,  Some  official  documents  and 
manuscripts. 


158  PUBLIC    INSTRUCTION    IN    1'Kl  SMA 

dukes  of  Ponnnern-Wolgast,  and  after  the  death  of  the  hist  descendant 
of  this  line  (Bogislav  XIV.,)  under  which  the  duchies  of  Wolga>t  and 
Stettin  had  been  united,  they  fell,  together  with  the  country  South  of  the 
Scene  river,  (Old  Vor  Pommern,)  the  mouths  of  the  Oder,  and  Stettin,  to 
the  Swedish  crown,  to  which  they  belonged  for  two  centuries.  That  is  a 
long  period,  and  the  inhabitants  of  Vor  Pommern  and  Riigen  have  been 
quite  comfortable  under  the  mild  government  of  the  kings  of  Sweden  ;  in 
their  almost  patriarchal  condition,  they  had  but  rarely  to  complain  of 
claims  on  their  willingness  to  sacrifice  something  to  the  general  welfare  of 
the  State.  But  as  for  intellectual  culture,  and  particularly  as  for  the  educa- 
tion of  the  lower  classes,  almost  nothing  was  done  ;  at  least  the  attempts 
of  government  to  improve  the  schools  produced  no  effect  worth  mentioning. 

The  first  schools  for  the  people  appear  to  have  been  established  soon 
after  the  Reformation.*  They  were  mostly  kept  by  sacristans  in  villages 
that  had  churches.  At  the  same  time,  a  higher  class  of  schools,  called 
Rector-schools,  were  established  in  towns,  to  supply  the  want  of  the 
citizens. 

a.  Totcn-whool*. — Johannes  JEpinus  published  in  Stralsund  as  early  as 
1525,t  particular  regulations  for  Church  and  School,  according  to  which 
two  jree-scftool*  for  the  young  of  both  sexes  were  to  be  established.  The 
principal  object  in  view  was  instruction  in  God's  Word.  A  superin- 
tendent was  to  be  at  their  head,  a  Latin  teacher  and  two  other  school- 
masters were  to  be  employed.  The  whole  regulation- consists  of  five  sec- 
tions, of  which  the  second,  third  and  fifth  run  thus:  "God  having 
commanded  all  parents  that  the  children  should  receive  instruction  in 
His  laws,  two  schools  are  needed,  one  for  boys  and  one  for  girls."  "Be- 
cause we  profess  to  be  Christians,  we  should  be  careful  that  such  schools 
should  be  established  according  to  Christian  law,  that  the  youths  may 
not  only  receive  information  in  the  word  of  God,  but  that  they  should 
be  fortified  to  act  according  to  it"  The  main  work  the  schools  are  ex- 
pected to  do  is,  to  instruct  the  children  in  doing  right,  and  to  teach  them 
how  to  live  in  compliance  to  God's  word." 

A  second  organization  of  Church  and  School  for  Stralsund  was  pub- 
lished in  1535  by  Dr.  John  Bugenhagen.  It  does  not  essentially  differ 
from  the  one  issued  ten  years  before.  Thus  it  says:  "We  also  direct 
that  two  schools  shall  be  established,  for  the  poor  and  for  the  rich  living 
here  who  reside  within  the  limits  of  the  town ;  in  the  one  shall  Latin  and 
German  be  taught,  in  the  other  shall  girls  be  educated."  The  boys* 

•  At  the  meeting  in  Treptow,  (December  13th,  1534.)  of  the  dukes  Philip  I  and  Barnim  IX,  it 
was  resolved,  "  that  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel  should  be  allowed  without  hindrance,  that 
churches  and  schools  should  be  established,  and  that  the  estates  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church 
should  be  confiscated." 

t  About  the  author  of  this  regulation  for  Church  and  School,  Mohnike  says:  "There  lived  at 
that  time  in  Stralsund.  as  director  of  the  school  at  St.  John's  Churchyard,  a  man  called  John 
^Epinus,  whose  real  name  was  Hoeck  or  Hoch  ;  he  played  later,  in  1528  and  1529,  an  important 
pert  in  the  history  of  the  church  of  Hamburg.  This  man,  though  not  mentioned  as  a  clergyman 
in  Stralsund,  must  have  enjoyed  great  authority  in  consequence  of  his  learning  and  practical 
ability,  for  it  was  he,  and  not  Ketelhodt,  who  was  applied  to,  to  draft  this  regulation." 


PUBLIC  INSTRUCTION  IN  PRUSSIA.  159 

school  was  to  have  one  rector  and  five  assistants.  The  school  consisted,, 
as  magistcr  Philippus  Melancthon  has  directed  in  his  book  for  the  visita- 
tions in  Saxony,  of  three  classes,  yet  the  rector  was  authorized  to  form  a 
fourth  class.  This  institution  has  not  been  an  elementary  school,  nor  a 
high-school  either,  but  a  rector-school,  what  we  would  now  call  a  common* 
town-school.  The  educational  establishments  in  the  other  towns  were 
of  a  similar  character,  but  little  is  known  about  them,  before  the  province 
was  annexed  by  Prussia. 

The  town  and  provincial  school  *  at  Bergen  was  established  after  the 
Reformation,  and  had  only  one  class  for  boys.  The  girls  received  instruc- 
tion in  the  school  of  the  sacristan,  which  may  have  been  in  existence 
before  the  Reformation.  John  Empel  was  the  first  rector  in  1562.  The 
reports  are  not  very  cheering  ;  those  of  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth 
centuries  contain  almost  nothing  but  complaints  about  the  individual  and 
public  distress,  the  wretched  condition  of  the  schools,  and  the  unpro- 
ductive exertions  of  the  city  authorities  to  relieve  them.  The  country 
suffered  much  during  the  Thirty  Years'  War.  The  school  derived  no 
assistance  from  the  Swedish  government,  when  it  had  taken  possession, 
of  Pomerania.  The  inhabitants  of  Bergen  took  the  oath  of  allegiance  to 
Adolphus  Frederic  in  1754,  and  thought  this  a  good  opportunity  to  give 
some  hints  at  the  necessity  that  the  very  dilapidated  school-house  should 
be  repaired.  They  therefore  made  a  transparency  with  this  motto  :  "  If 
the  hand  of  the  Almighty  had  not  protected  me,  I  should  long  since  have 
been  a  heap  of  rubbish."  And  another,  showing  the  temple  of  Minerva, 
had  this  motto :  "  As  Adolphus  Frederic  will  rebuild  the  temple,  this 
school-house  will  also  be  repaired  by  him."  Yet,  0  fallacem  hwninum 
spem  et  inanes  nostras  contentiones  !  There  were  no  repairs  made. 

The  school  in  Barth  is  mentioned  in  a  document  as  early  as  1325,  in 
which  Wratislaf,  duke  of  Pomerania  and  prince  of  the  Riigians,  says : 
44 1  also  authorize  my  privy  council  to  appoint  a  schoolmaster  and  a 
sacristan  whenever  there  is  a  vacancy." 

The  oldest  instruction  for  a  school  organization  in  Barth  is  by  duke 
Bogislaf  XIII,  in  the  year  1584;  it  contains  much  detail,  and  is  closely 
connected  with  the  organization  of  the  church.  But  in  how  sad  a  con- 
dition the  schools  were,  even  after  a  lapse  of  two  centuries,  may  be  seen 
from  the  following  lawsuit  in  1743.  Rector  Zunghen  requested  that  the 
school  fees  should  be  increased,  because  the  price  of  wood  was  so  very 
high  ;  the  council  did  not  approve  of  this  request.  The  rector  therefore 
had  no  longer  any  fire  made  in  the  school-room,  and  had  even  the  benches 
removed.  The  council  made  complaints  to  the  consistory,  but  received 
no  answer.  The  council  renewed  the  complaint,  stating  that  there  had 
not  been  any  school  for  three  weeks  ;  then  the  rector  was  ordered  (1743). 
to  have  the  school-room  properly  heated,  on  the  penalty  of  a  fine  of  thirty 
thalers.  But  Junghen  did  not  obey ;  on  the  contrary,  he  protested 

*The  denomination  provincial  school  is  a  mere  title,  because  the  inhabitants  of  the  province, 
i.  e.  of  the  country  about  Bergen,  contributed  nothing  to  the  salary  of  teachers,  fitc.,  nor  did  they 
generally  send  their  children  to  that  school. 


160 

PUBLIC  INSTRUCTION   IN  PRUSSIA. 

against  the  sentence  and  continued  the  lawsuit.  All  the  while  there  was 
no  instruction  given  to  the  children,  because  there  was  but  one  school- 
room. The  rector  gives  a  description  of  this  room,  and  tries  to  prove  by 
figures  that  the  quantity  of  wood  furnished  to  him  was  altogether  insuffi- 
cient. The  room  was  twenty-eight  feet  long,  twenty  feet  wide,  and  ten 
feet  high ;  the  walls  were  of  brick  and  loam,  yet  the  seams,  not  being 
filled  up  with  mortar,  were  mostly  quite  open.  The  clergyman  of  Bod- 
stedt  gave  it  officially  as  his  opinion,  that  the  room  required  ten  cords  of 
the  best  beach  and  oak  wood,  to  be  properly  heated  from  7  A.  M.  to  4 
P.  M.  during  the  winter  season.  The  school  had  two  classes  in  1774, 
and  in  1789  most  likely  three,  for  there  is  mentioned  a  subrector,  besides 
a  rector,  a  writing-master,  a  teacher  of  arithmetic,  and  a  sacristan. 

There  were  similar  schools  in  Grimmen,  Loitz,  Tribsees,  Lassan,  and 
Darngarten,  some  under  a  rector,  others  under  a  deacon ;  there  was  in 
Wolgast,  Barth  and  Bergen,  (with  some  interruptions)  a  subrector,  besides 
the  rector.  The  undersigned  has  not  obtained  any  special  reports  on 
Wolgast,  but,  to  judge  from  some  old  statistics,  schools  must  have  been 
in  a  flourishing  condition,  most  likely  because  the  dukes  resided  there 
for  a  long  time.  In  Franzburg,  Richlenberg,  and  Garz,  were  schools 
kept  by  the  sacristans.  So  had  the  market-town  Gingst  a  so-called 
German  school,  in  which  the  deacon  (just  licensed  to  preach)  had  to  give 
two  lessons  every  day.  The  town  of  Sagard  on  Yasmund  (a  peninsula  of 
Riigen,)  established  a  school  in  1792,  liberally  assisted  by  the  Swedish 
Count  Brahe;  it  had  but  one  teacher,  who  was  at  the  same  time  parish 
clerk  and  organist. 

A  more  detailed  description  of  the  development  of  the  town-schools  is 
not  an  object  of  this  article,  but  it  may  be  mentioned  that  in  1815,  the 
two  towns  which  had  gymnasiums,  viz.,  Stralsund  and  Greifswalde,  sup- 
ported, besides  the  sacristans'  schools,  each  a  citizens'  (industrial)  school 
and  a  school  for  orphans. 


PESTALOZZFS  EDUCATIONAL  LABORS  FOR  THE  POOR, 


AND   FOR 

POPULAR  SCHOOLS. 


"  IT  is  to  the  charitable  efforts  of  Pestalozzi" — remarks  M.  Demetz, 
the  founder  of  the  most  complete  and  successful  institution  of  reformatory 
education  in  the  world,  in  a  report  on  the  Agricultural  Reformatory  Colo- 
nies of  France, — "  that  we  owe  the  establishment  of  agricultural  colonies," 
that  is,  of  institutions,  organized  on  the  basis,  and  in  the  spirit  of  the 
family,  with  agricultural  employment  as  the  principal  means  of  industrial 
training,  and  with  methods  of  instruction,  moral,  intellectual,  and  physi- 
cal, so  fur  as  applied,  good  enough  for  children  of  any  class  of  society, 
and  yet  capable  of  being  followed  by  an  intelligent  mother  in  the  home 
of  the  poor.  Not  that  Pestalozzi's  own  plans  and  methods  under  his 
own  application,  were  eminently  successful — for  they  were  not.  His  in- 
stitution at  Neuhof,  was  a  disastrous  failure,  in  its  immediate  results,  both 
as  a  school,  and  as  a  pecuniary  speculation.  But  the  Christian  spirit  in 
which  this  excellent  man  labored — the  family  organization  into  which  he 
gathered,  even  the  outcasts  of  society,  living  among  such  pupils  as  a  father, 
as  well  as  pastor  and  teacher,  and  denying  himself  the  quiet  seclusion 
and  comforts  of  the  home  which  the  fortune  of  his  noble  minded  wife  had 
secured  for  him,  that  he  might  inspire  the  orphan,  and  the  abandoned  and 
•even  criminal  child  with  filial  attachments,  cultivate  habits  of  self-reliance 
and  profitable  industry,  and  thus  enable  them  "  to  live  in  the  world  like 
men" — this  spirit,  system  and  aim,  the  dream  and  labor  of  his  long  and 
troubled  life,  imperfectly  inaugurated  at  Neuhof,  and  never  fully  realized 
at  Stanz,  Burgdorf,  and  Yverden,  but  widely  diffused  by  his  writings, 
and  the  better  success,  under  more  favorable  conditions,  of  his  pupils  and 
disciples  in  Switzerland  and  Germany,  have  led  to  the  establishment  of 
new  educational  institutions  for  rich  and  poor,  of  schools  of  practical 
agriculture,  as  well  as  of  agricultural  reformatories,  and  at  the  same  time 
has  regenerated  the  methods  of  popular  education  generally.  To  the  con- 
nected and  comprehensive  survey  of  Pestalozzi's  Life  and  Educational 
System  by  von  Raumer,  we  add  a  notice  of  his  labors  at  Neuhof  by  Dr. 
Blochmann,  of  Dresden,  and  by  Dr.  Diesterweg,  of  Berlin,  from  discourses 
pronounced  on  the  occasion  of  the  Centennial  celebration  of  Pestalozzi's 
birth-day  on  the  12th  of  January,  1846. 

PESTALOZZI'S  POOR  SCHOOL  AT  NEUHOF. 

PESTALOZZI  having  failed  in  a  plantation  of  madder  which  he  had  com- 
menced in  connection  with  a  mercantile  house  of  Zurich,  on  an  estate  of 
about  one  hundred  acres  of  land  on  which  he  commenced  a  house  in  the 


162  PESTAI.OZZI'S  POOR  SCHOOL  AT  MTIIuF 

Italian  villa  style,  to  which  he  gave  the  name  of  Neuhof,  projected  the 
plan  of  an  educational  establishment  respecting  which  Dr.  Blochmann,* 

admiring  pupil  ami  avowed  follower  thus  writes: 

It  was  not  in  Pestalozzi's  nntuic  to  sink  under  misfortune,  so  long  as  ht 
could  pursue  the  attainment  of  the  object  of  his  lift'.  IK-  had  early  learned 
and  deeply  fixed  in  his  mind  the  maxim, 

'•  Tu  ne  cede  mails,  sed  contra  fortior  ito." 

lie  advanced  like  a  roused  lion,  with  resolute  courage,  against  alf 
unfriendly  influences.  In  spite  of  the  severe  distress  into  which  the- 
unforseen  withdrawal  of  the  Zurich  house  plunged  him,  he  determined  to 
go  on,  and  to  make  his  landed  estate  the  centre  of  operations  for  his 
educational  and  agricultural  plans.  He  resolved  even  upon  more  and 
higher  designs.  Henceforward  he  will  live  amongst  beggar  children,  and 
share  his  bread  in  poverty  amongst  them  ;  will  live  like  a  beggar  him  self, 
that  he  may  learn  to  teach  beggars  to  live  like  men. 

He  also  proposed  to  render  his  establishment  an  institution  for  the 
poor.  This  undertaking  attracted  attention.  It  was  considered  a  noble 
and  benevolent  enterprise;  and  his  views  and  prinripl«->  had  .-o  much 
influence,  in  spite  of  the  mistrust  of  his  practical  ability,  that  he  found 
assistance  in  Zurich,  Bern  and  Basle,  and  was  aM«-  without  much  diffi- 
culty to  obtain  the  necessary  funds  for  the  institution,  by  the  aid  of  a 
loan,  for  several  years,  without  interest  His  friends  on  all  >ides  .1 
him  ;  more  especially  Iselin  of  Basle,  whom  he  had  met  and  known  in 
the  Helvetic  Diet,  and  who  introduced  the  beloved  enterprise  to  public 
notice  in  his  Ephemerides. 

The  Institution  for  the  Poor  at  Neuhof  was  opened  in  1775.  Poor 
children  flocked  in  from  all  direction-,  many  of  them  gathered  by 
Pestalozzi  himself  from  their  misery,  and  out  of  tin-  >tn-et>.  He  had 
soon  fifty  children,  whom  he  kept  busy  in  summer  with  Held  labor,  and 
in  winter  with  spinning  and  other  handicrafts,  instructing  them  .ill  the 
time,  and  developing  and  clearing  up  their  mental  facultio,  <  -|H  .  ially  by 
oral  recitations  and  mental  arithmetic.!  Pestalozzi  had  early  ]nr«i\ed 

*  HENRY  PBSTALOEZI  Touches  at  a  Picture  of  his  Life  and  Labors  :  from  his  own  testi- 
mony, from  observation,  and  communication.  By  Dr.  Karl  Justus  Blochmaun,  Privy  School' 
(  mi ncilor  and  Professor:  Leiptic.  1846. 

t  The  idea  of  such  a  school  for  the  poor,  in  which  agricultural  and  industrial  labor  were  to 
oe  combined  with  instruction,  accompanied  Pestaloxzi.  to  whose  mind  it  was  so  new  and' 
stimulating,  all  his  life  ;  and  even  remained  like  a  sunbeam  shining  from  behind  the  dark  sad 
clouds  of  the  past,  his  last  lore,  his  last  active  desire.  What,  however,  he  never  completely 
accomplished,  has  been  done  by  Emanuel  von  Fellenberg,  who  was  assisted  in  the  work,  not 
only  by  his  certain  and  practical  skill  and  experience,  but  especially  by  his  good  fortune  in  dis- 
covering in  Vehrli,  such  a  man  a-s  is  very  seldom  to  be  found,  but  absolutely  necessary  in  the 
actual  realization  of  such  a  school  Whoever,  like  myself — and  there  are  thousands— has  be- 
lome  thoroughly  acqua'nted  with  Vehrli's  school  in  Hofwyl,  must  he  convinced  that  in  institu- 
tions for  the  education  of  the  poor  so  organized,  conducted  in  such  a  spirit,  with  such  love 
and  self-sacrifice,  there  is  to  be  found  an  inestimable  blessing  for  the  slate  and  the  people.  Pel- 
.enberg  has  shown  from  his  account  books,  that  ;i  poor  hoy.  received  at  his  ninth  year,  and  re- 
maining in  the  institution  through  his  eighteenth,  pays  by  h  s  labor  during  the  last  half  of  bin 
stay,  for  the  excess  of  the  expense  of  maintaining  him  over  his  earnings,  during  the  first  half. 
Lange,  in  his  work  on  '•  The  Country  Edurational  Institutions  for  Poor  Children."  (f.andflclu, 
Erxiehungt  An $t alien  fvr  Arinrnleindrr.'j  has  made  very  thorough  researches  into  tli  *. 


PESTALOZZPS  POOR  SCHOOL  AT  N  Ell  HOP.  10$ 

that  in  the  nature  of  every  man  are  innate  powers  and  means  sufficient 
to  assure  him  an  adequate  support ;  and  that  the  hindrances  arising  from 
exterior  circumstances,  to  the  development  of  the  natural  endowments, 
are  not  in  their  nature  insuperable. 

The  usual  means  of  benevolence  and  mercy  (as  he  was  accustomed  to 
name  the  orphan  houses,  institutions  for  supporting  the  poor,  <fcc.,  of  the 
period,)  seemed  to  him  to  stimulate  and  encourage  the  evil,  instead 
of  helping  it.  The  thousand  public  and  private  ways  of  spending  alms, 
with  which  the  times  were  crowded  to  nauseation,  the  beggar  making 
and  hypocrite  training  modes  of  assisting  the  poor,  seemed  to  him  only 
a  palliative.  The  only  means  of  affording  real  assistance  he  saw  to  lie  in 
i}  ><  ;  that  the  inborn  natural  powers  of  every  man  to  provide  for  his  own 
necessities,  and  sufficiently  to  perform  the  business,  duties  and  obligations 
oi  his  being,  should  be  developed,  encouraged,  and  set  upon  an  independ- 
ent footing.  With  this  conviction  the  impulse  increased  within  him  to 
labor  for  this  definite  purpose  ;  thai  it  should  become  practicable  for  the 
poorest  in  the  land  to  be  assured  of  the  development  of  their  bodily, 
spiritual  and  moral  powers  both  in  relation  to  their  own  characters,  and 
to  their  personal,  domestic  and  social  relations ;  and  through  this  devel- 
opment to  obtain  the  sure  basis  of  a  peaceful  and  sufficient  means, 
of  existence.  lie  had  already  taken  the  first  step  in  this  direction,  by 
admitting  into  his  house  beggar  children  and  others  abandoned  to  neglect, 
that  he  might  rescue  them  from  their  debasing  condition,  lead  them  Kirk 
to  manhood  and  a  hiirlnT  destiny,  and  thus  prove  to  himself  and  those, 
around  him  more  and  more  clearly  the  truth  of  his  opinion.  His  institu- 
tion was  to  comprise  the  means  for  a  sutlici.-nt  in>trurtion  in  Held  labor, 
in  domestic  work,  and  in  associated  indu-trv.  This  was  not,  !. 
the  ultimate  purpose.  That  was,  a  training  to  manhood  ;  and  for  it, 
these  other  department!  were  onlv  pr-'paratorv. 

First  of  all,  he  proposed  to  train  hi>  pour  ••hildreii  to  exertion  and  -elt- 
control,  by  forbearing  ami  assiduous  discipline,  and  b\-  the  ever  powerful 
stimulus  of  love.  He  aimed  to  possess  himself  of  their  hearts,  and  from 
that  starting  point  to  brinjr  them  to  the  consciousness  and  the  attainment 
of  every  thing  noble  and  great  in  humanity.  u  I  had  from  my  youth  "  he 

8,  "a  high  instinctive  value  of  the  influence  of  domestic  training 
in  the  education  of  poor  children,  and  likewise  a  decided  preference 
for  field  labor,  as  the  most  comprehensive  and  unobjectionable  external 
basis  for  this  training,  and  also  for  another  reason  :  as  it  is  the  condition 
of  the  manufacturing  population  which  is  increasing  so  rapidly  amongst 
us,  who,  abandoned  to  the  operations  of  a  mercantile  and  speculating 

subject,  not  only  from  other  writings  upon  institutions  for  the  poor  after  the  model  of  Fellen- 
berg's,  but  from  his  own  repeated  and  extensive  travels  and  personal  observation.  Our  own 
teacher's  association  (ptidagogiiche  rerein.  at  Dresden,)  has  proposed  as  a  chief  aim  of  its 
practical  efforts,  the  realization  of  an  institution  for  the  education  of  poor  and  abandoned 
children,  after  Pestalozzi's  model ;  for  which  purpose,  it  purchased  some  eight  years  since,  a 
property  in  great  part  already  in  cultivation,  and  with  a  roomy  mansion  house,  near  the 
Liibfaner  Schlage,  which  was  deilicarul  on  MIH  l'2th  of  January.  1845,  by  the  name  of  UK. 
Ptslalozzi  Foundation,  (PtMulozzi  Stiftunc.) 


164  PESTALOZZ1S  POOR  SCHOOL  AT  NEUIIOF. 

interest,  wholly  destitute  of  humanity,  are  in  danger,  in  case  of  unforseen 
accident,  of  being  able  totiml  within  themselyea  no  means  of  ex-ape  from 
entire  ruin.*  Full  of  a  love  for  my  father-land,  which  hoped  for  it  almost 
impossible  things,  and  longed  to  lead  it  back  to  its  native  dignity  and 
power,  I  sought  with  the  greatest  activity  not  only  for  the  possible  but  for 
the  certain  means  of  averting  the  coming  evil,  and  of  awakening  anew  the 
remainder  of  the  ancient  home  happiness,  home  industry,  and  home 
manners.  These  designs  sank  deep  into  my  heart  and  often  made 
me  feel  with  sorrow  what  a  high  and  indispensable  human  duty  it  is 
to  labor  for  the  poor  and  miserable,  with  all  the  means  which  our 
race  possesses,  in  church,  state  or  individuals,  that  he  may  attain  to  a 
consciousness  of  his  own  dignity  through  his  feeling  of  the  universal  pow- 
ers and  endowments  which  he  possesses,  awakened  within  him ;  that  he 
may  not  only  learn  to  gabble  over  by  rote  the  religious  maxim  that  *  man  is 
created  in  the  image  of  God,  and  is  bound  to  live  and  die  as  the  child  of 
God,'  but  may  himself  experience  its  truth  by  virtue  of  the  divine 
power  within  him,  so  that  IK-  may  be  invsi.-tibly  and  really  elevated  not 
only  above  the  ploughing  oxen,  but  above  the  man  in  purple  and  silk, 
who  lives  unworthily  of  his  high  destiny." 

With  such  lofty  and  magnificent  views,  and  with  a  heart  at  even 
a  higher  level  of  love,  Pestalozzi  labored  at  Neuhof  from  sunrise  to  sunset, 
amongst  his  beggar  children.  He  lived  steadily  up  to  his  principles, 
laboring  in  his  vocation  to  the  full  extent  of  his  powers ;  always  knew 
what  he  was  seeking,  cared  not  for  the  morrow,  but  felt  from  moment  to 
moment  the  needs  of  the  present  Among  his  children  were  very  many 
ungovernable  ones  of  a  better  class,  and  still  worse,  many  who  had 
brought  themselves  from  a  better  condition  to  beggary,  and  who  were 
pivMimptuous  and  pretentious  by  reason  of  their  former  situation  ;  to 
whom  the  energetic  discipline  which  he  applied,  according  to  his  design, 
was  at  first  hateful.  They  considered  their  situation  with  him  as  more 
degrading  than  that  in  which  they  had  been  before.  Neuhof  was  full 
every  Sunday  of  the  mothers  and  relatives  of  children  who  found 
their  situation  not  what  they  had  expected.  All  the  impertinences 
which  a  miserable  rabble  of  beggars  could  indulge  in  a  house  without 
visible  protection  or  imposing  exterior,  were  practiced,  to  encourage  the 
children  in  their  discontent ;  even  so  far  that  they  were  often  tempted  to 
run  away  by  night  just  after  they  had  been  washed  clean  and  clad 
in  their  Sunday  clothes.  However,  these  difficulties  would  little  by  little 

*  Upon  the  influence  of  manufacturing  wealth  amongst  the  Swiss  at  that  time.  Pestalozzi 
expresses  himself  thus  in  another  place  :  "  The  paternal  love  of  the  upper  and  the  filial  love 
of  the  lower  classes,  in  consequence  of  the  increase  of  the  manufacturing  interest,  is  going 
more  and  more  to  ruin  under  the  effects  of  ignoble  wealth.  The  blinding  height  of  arro- 
gance derived  from  an  eminent  position  obtained  by  money,  the  deceitful  cornucopia  of  an 
unreliable  life  of  mere  pleasure,  has  drawn  all  within  its  destructive  influence,  even  down  to 
the  commonest  of  the  people,  and  carried  them  into  the  crooked  path  of  a  spiritless  and  pow- 
erless routine  life.  Truth,  honor,  sympathy,  moderation,  are  daily  vanishing.  Pride, 
insolence,  recklessness,  contemptuousness,  laxity,  immorality,  the  eager  pursuit  of  vain  and 
ostentatious  pleasure,  the  cherishing  of  boundless  •selfishness,  have  taken  the  place  of  the 
ancient  simplicity,  faith  and  honor. 


l'i:sr.\l.u//l  s  I'OOR  SCHOOL  AT  NEUHOF.  165 

nave-  been  overcome,  had  not  Pestalozzi  pushed  his  undertaking  to 
an  extent  altogether  beyond  his  means,  and  undertaken  to  modify  it 
according  to  the  original  design,  which  supposed  the  possession  of 
the  utmost  knowledge  of  manufacturing  and  of  human  nature ;  qualities 
in  which  he  was  lacking  in  the  same  measure,  in  which  he  needed  them 
urgently  for  managing  his  institution.  Moreover,  he  hurried  on  to 
the  higher  branches  of  instruction,  before  supplying  the  solid  foundation 
of  acquaintance  with  the  lower;  an  error  recognized  as  the  leading 
one  of  the  teaching  of  the  age,  against  which  he  had  striven  in  his 
scheme  of  education  with  all  his  strength.  For  the  sake  of  a  fallacious 
prospect  of  greater  profit,  in  higher  branches  of  industry,  he  committed, 
in  teaching  his  children  to  spin  and  weave,  the  very  faults  which  he  had 
so  strongly  abjured  in  all  his  expressed  opinions  upon  education,  and 
which  he  saw  to  be  so  dangerous  to  children  of  all  classes.  He  would 
attempt  to  secure  the  finest  spinning,  before  his  children  had  acquired 
even  a  small  amount  of  firmness  and  surety  of  hand  in  coarse  work ;  and 
undertook  to  manufacture  muslin  before  his  weavers  had  attained  skill  in 
weaving  common  cotton  stuff. 

Through  these  and  the  like  mistakes,  through  his  ignorance  of 
business,  and  his  great  lack  of  a  sound  practical  faculty  of  learning  it,  it 
happened  that  Pestalozzi  fell  every  year  deeper  in  debts  ;  and  when  these 
also  from  time  to  time  had  been  paid  by  the  self-sacrificing  generosity  of 
his  noble  wife,  there  came  at  last  an  end  of  this  means  of  help,  and  in  a 
few  years  the  greater  part  of  his  substance  and  his  expected  inheritance 
was  dissolved  into  smoke.  The  great  confidence  which  he  had  enjoyed 
among  his  neighbors,  changed  when  his  undertaking  failed  so  soon,  into 
an  utter  and  blind  rejection  of  any  shadow  even  of  faith  in  his  enterprise, 
or  of  belief  in  his  possessing  any  capacity  at  all  as  a  teacher.  But  such 
is  the  way  of  the  world  ;  it  treated  Pestalozzi,  when  poor,  as  it  treats  all 
who  become  poor  by  their  own  faults.  Their  money  being  gone,  it  with- 
draws also  its  confidence  from  them,  in  matters  where  they  really  are 
capable  and  efficient. 

His  enterprise  failed,  in  a  manner  excessively  painful,  both  to  himself 
and  his  wife,  in  the  year  1780,  in  the  fifth  year  of  its  existence.  His 
misfortune  was  complete;  he  was 'now  poor.  He  felt  most  deeply  the 
condition  of  his  noble  hearted  wife,  who  in  the  excess  of  her  devotion  had 
mortgaged  away  for  him  nearly  all  her  possessions.  His  situation  was 
indeed  shocking.  In  his  over  handsome  country  house,  he  was  often 
destitute  of  bread,  wood,  and  a  few  pennies,  wherewith  to  defend  himself 
from  cold  and  hunger.  Only  the  entire  forbearance  of  his  creditors  and 
the  kind  help  of  his  friends  preserved  him  from  despair  and  entire  ruin. 

Thus  he  lived  a  poor  and  destitute  life  in  Neuhof  for  eighteen  years, 
fighting  with  want  and  misery.  He  lived  as  a  poor  man  amongst  the 
poor ;  suffered  what  the  common  people  suffered,  and  saw  what  they 
were.  He  studied  the  wants  of  the  lower  classes  and  the  sources  of  their 
misery,  in  a  manner  which  would  have  been  impossible  for  one  in  better 
circumstances 


THE   8CHOOLHOU8E   AT   BIRB,    WITH   PESTALOZZl'S  MEMORIAL 


PUBLICATIONS   BY  AND   RELATING  TO  PESTALOZZL 
I.    WORKS  BY  PESTALOZZI.* 


PESTALOZZI'S  WORKS,   (Werke,)    Tubingen,   1819-26.    Gotta,     lo  vola 
These  include  :  — 

a.  Leonard  and  Gertrude,  (Lienhard  und  Gertrud,)  vols.  1  —  4. 

b.  How  Gertrude  teaches  Tier  children,  (  Wie  Gertrud  ihr  Kinder  lehrt,)  vol.  5. 
C.  To   the   innocence,  earnestness,  and  nobility  of  my  fatherland,   (An  die 

Unschuld,  den  Ernst  und  den  Edelmuth  meines  Vaterlandes,)  vol.  6. 

d.  My  researches  upon  the  course  of  nature  in  the  development  of  the  human 

race,  (Meine  Nachforschungen  uber  den  Gang  der  Natur  in  der  Entwick- 
lung  des  Menschengeschlechts,)  vol.  7. 

e.  On  legislation  and  child-murder,  (Ueber  Gesetzgebung  und  Kindermord,) 

vols.  7  and  8. 

t  On  the  idea  of  elementary  education.  An  address  delivered  at  Lenzburg, 
1809,  (Ueber  die  Idee  der  ElementarbUdung.  Eine  Rede,  gehalten  in 
Lenzburg.)  vol.  8. 

("  In  jrreat  part  the  work  of  Niederer."—  Biber.    It  first  appeared  in  the 
Weekly  for  Human  Development,"  [  Wochtn*chriftf*r  Menschenbil- 


g.  Pestalozzi's  ktter  to  a  friend  upon  his  residence  at  Stanz,  (Pestalozzi's  Brief 
an  einen  Freund  uber  seinen  Aufenthalt  in  Stanz,)  vol.  9. 
(This  first  appeared  in  the  "  Weekly.") 
h.   Views  on  industry,  education,  and  politics,  (Ansichten  uber  Industrie,  Erzie- 

hung  und  Politik,)  vol.  9. 
i.  Address  to  my  household,  delivered  Jan.  12,  1818,  (Rede  an  mein  Haus. 

gehalten  den  12  Jdnner,  1818,)  vol.  9. 

k.  Figures  to  my  A  B  C-Book,  (Figuren  zu  meinem  A  B  C-Buch,)  vol.  10. 
I.   Views  and  experiences  relative  to  the  idea  of  elementary  education,  (Ansichten 
und  Erfahrungen,  die  Idee  der  Elementarbildung  betreffend,)  vol.  11. 
(This  had  before  appeared  under  the  name  of  "  II.  Pestalowi'a  views. 
•  xperiences,  and  means  to  secure  a  mode  of  education  adapted  to  hu- 
man nature."    Leipzig,  1807.) 

m.  On  the  principles  and  plan  of  a  periodical,  announced  in  the  year  1807, 
(Ueber  die  Grundsatze  und  den  Plan  einer  im  Jahre  1807  angekiindigten 
Zeitschrift,)\ol  11. 

n.  Report  to  parents  and  the  public  on  the  condition  and  organization  of 
Pestalozzi's  institution  in  the  year  1807,  (Bericht  an  dl>-  i'llf.-m  >//,<!  ,<n 
das  Publicum  uber  den  Zustand  und  die  Einrichtungen  der  Pestalozzischen 
Anstalt  im  Jahre  1807,)  vol.  11. 

(This  had  already  appeared  in  the  "  Weekly  for  Human  Development," 
.     but  in  the  collective  edition  it  was  materially  enlarged.) 
o.  A  word  on  the  condition  of  my  pedagogical  enterprises,  and  on  the  organ- 
ization of  my  institution  during  the  year  1820,  (Ein  Wort  uber  den 
Zustand  meiner  padagogischen  Bestrebungen  und  uber  die  Organisation 
meiner  AnstaU  im  Jahr  1820,)  vol.  11. 
p.  A  few  discourses  in  my  house  in  the  years  1808,  1809,  1810,  1811,  and 

1812,  (Einige  Reden  an  mein  Haus  in  den  Jahren  1808,  &c.,.)  vol.  11. 
q.  Christoph  and  Else,  vol.  12. 
r.  Swan-song,  (Pestalozzfs  Schwanengesang,)  vol.  13. 
8.  Theory  of  Number  and  Form,  (Zahl  und  Forml'hre,)  vol.  14. 

*  This  list  is  taken  from  Raumer's  "  History  of  Pedagogy,"  vol.  ii.  p.  489. 


168  PESTALOZZI.—  LITERATURE. 

I  Theory  of  Form,  and  Dimension,  (Form  und  Grossenlehre,)  vol.  15. 
u.  Address  at  Langenthal,  Apr.,  16,  1826,  (Rede,  den  ZQsten  April  1826,  tn 
Langenthal  gehalten,)  vol.  15. 

Some  important  objections  have  been  made  to  this  edition  ;  primarily, 

that  it  is  ' 


2.  WORKS  OF  PESTALOZZI  not  included  in  the  collected  edition  of  1819-26. 

a.  Agis,  or  Spartan  legislation,  (Agist  uber  die  Spartanische  Gesetzgcbung.) 

(Pestalozzi's  first  work.) 

b.  Evening  hour  of  a  Hermit,  (Die  Abendstunde  eines  Einsiedlers.) 

(This  first  appeared  in  l-elm's  "  /.jJttmeride*"  for  17^>.  ,,,,,.1  Wua  re- 
printed in  the-  kk  Weekly  for  Human  Development,"  in  1807.) 

c.  A  Swiss  Gazette,  (Ein  Schweizer-Blatt,)  in  two  volumes,  1782  and  1783. 

(Not  being  acquainted  with  this,  1  do  not  know  whether  I'estaloz/i  was 
sole  editor  or  not.     About  17'.-^  he  published  anot  /t»p- 

ular  Gazette"  under  authori/ation  from  p>\  eminent.  > 

d.  Pestalozzi's  elementary  works,  (Pestalozzi's  Elementarbucher,)  especially  the 

"  Book  for  Mothers,'1  (Buch  der  Mutter,)  Tubingen,  1803.  The  "  Intui- 
tional Theory  of  the  Relations  of  Size,"  (Anschauungslehre  der  Mass- 
verhdltnisse,)  and  the  "Intuitional  Theory  of  the  Relations  of  Numbers," 
(Anschauungslehre  der  Zahlenverhdltnisse,)  by  Kriisi,  are  quite  as  im- 
portant for  Pestalozzi's  works  as  the  theories  of  Number,  Form,  and 
Size,  by  Schmid,  in  vols.  14  and  15. 

e.  Views  on  Subjects  to  which  the  Helvetian  Legislature  ought  specially  to 

direct  its  attention,  (Ansichten  fiber  die  Gegenstande  auf  welche  die  Gesetz- 
gebung  Helvetians  ihr  Augenmerk  vorzuglich  zu  richten  hat,)  Bern,  1802. 
£     The  Fate  of  my  Ltfe,  as  Principal  of  my  Educational  Institutions  at  Burg- 
dorf  and  Yverdun,  by  Pestalozzi,  (Meine  Lebensschicksale  als  Vorsteher 
meiner  Ensiehungs-ins'titute  in  Burgdorfund  Iferten,)  Leipzig,  1826. 
g.  The  Instruction  of  the  Sitting-Room,  (Die  Kinderldire  der  Wohnstube.) 

(Published  in  "  ROM*!**  Monthly.") 

b.    Weekly  for  Human  Development,  (Wochenschrifl  fur  MenschenbOdung,)  4 
vols.,  1807—1811. 

ifis,  as  was  stat*  1   I  'estalozzi's  Letter  nn  his  residence 

at  Stan/,  the  Report  on  the  Institution  at  Vverdun,  and  the  Lenzbuig 
address.) 

L  Pestalozzfs  Educational  Enterprise,  as  related  to  the  culture  of  the  age, 

(Pestalozzi'  s  Erziehungs-  Unternehmung  im  Verhaltniss  zur  Zeit-cultur,} 

(by  Niederer,)  1812. 

i  In  tliis  is  a  letter  from  Pestalo/  rcr.) 

k.  Declaration  against  Canon  Bremfs  three  dozen  Newspaper  Questions,  (Erk- 

larung  gegen  Herrn  Chorherr  Bremfs  drey  Dutzend  Burklische  Zeitungs- 

fragen,)  Yverdun,  1812. 

3.  WORKS  OF  PESTALOZZI  —  in  part  not  included  in  the  above  list,  or  in  a  new 

arrangement. 

1.  Paternal  Instruction,  in  moral  explanation  of  words.     A   legacy   from 

Father    Pestalozzi   to  his  pupils.     (Vaterlehren  in  sittlichen    Wort- 
deuteungen.    Ein  Vermddilniss  von  Voter  Pestalozzi  au  seine  Zoylinge.) 
Revised  and  collected  by  Herman  Krusi.     Trogeh,  1829. 
(The  MS.  «.f  this  work   \\  d  by  Pestalozzi  to  Kriisi,  who  ed- 

ited it  with  addition  and  alteration.) 

2.  Letters  on  Early  Education.    Addressed  to  J.  P.  Greaves,  Esq.,  with  a 

memoir  of  Pestalozzi.     London,  1829. 

3.  Pestahzzts  Life  and  Views,  in  verbatim  extracts  from  the  complete  works 

of  Pestalozzi.  (PestalozzCs  Leben  und  Ansichten,  in  wortgetreuen 
Auszuge  seiner  gesammten  Schnftm.)  Published  with  reference  to  the 
festival  of  his  hundredth  birthday.  By  Roget  Christoffel.  Zurich,  1847. 

(An  excellent  selection,  affording  probably  the  best  general  view  acces- 
sible of  the  whole  subject,  and  made  on  a  principle  whieh  renders  it 
reliable  for  reference.  We  give  the  Table  of  Contents.) 


\  LOZZ1.— LITERATURE. 


169- 


CHKISIOKKKL,  R.,  u  IVstalo/./.i's,  Life  and  Views,"  (Leben  und  Ansichten,  in  wortyei 
reuen  Auszuge  seiner  gesammten  Schriften.)    Znreih,  1847. 

PART  I . 
PESTALOZZI'S  BIOGRAPHY,  IN  EXTRACTS 

FROM  His  c.u.V   WHITINGS. 

PAOC. 

I.  Character  as  a  child 1 

•J    Hume,. 2 

3.  Grandfather, 5 

4.  City  M-hool ^ 5 

.">.  Similar  character  of  an  ancestor,.' 6 

•  I.   School  years 8 

7.  Choice  of  vocation,. V 11 

•ihof, 12 

mit-<  mi  author, 16 

ID.  I'.iMTty  nnd  friendship 21 

11  Kv«  mii:.' hour  of  a  hermit 23 

LOI 32 

13.  Schoolmaster  at  Burgdorf, 48 

14.  Joins  with  Kriisi 55 

I.").  Hurgdorf  institution,. 


Hi    Moves  to  Muiichen-Buchsee 62 

17.  Yverdun 63 

18.  The  institution  in  prosperity, 64 

19.  New  Years,  1808 81 

20.  "          "        1810 90 

21.  Chmtmas,  1810, 100 

22.  New  Years,  1811 108 

23.  "          "        181-2 117 

24.  72d  birthday 124 

25.  At  Neuhof.'in  his  old  age 141 

APPENDIX   TO   PART   I. 

a.  To  Jacob  Frohlich,  V.  I).  M 144 

b.  To  Secretary  Iselin 147 

PART  II. 

VIEWS  OF  NATURE   AND   MEN. 

I.  Spring 153 

II.  Summer 154 

III.  Fables,  88  in  number 159 

IV.  Tales  :- 

J .  1'oor  Kunigunde, 213 

2.  The  braggart  of  freedom, 234 

3.  The  cotton-spinner, 238 

4.  The  village  shoemaker 239 

V.  Essays:— 

I.  Industry  and  its  perils, 

•J    The  farming  population . 

3.  <  >n  child-murder -J7  \ 

4.  Tithes 

5.  Wake  up,  people!   (Revolutionary 

speech,). 293 

6.  Something  about  religion, 299 

PART  III. 

VIEWS   ON   EDUCATION   AND   INSTRUCTION. 
I.    EDUCATION. 

1.  Sketch  of  natural  education 305 

2.  System  and  aim  of  true  education 313 

3.  From  maternal  love,  the  child  proeeeds  to 

love  of  men  and  of  God, 316 

4.  Character  of  father  and  mother   influence 

result  of  education 319 

5.  Development   of  child    to   true  manhood, 

with  relation  to  It-Mow -men 3-J3 

6.  Development  of  child  in  relation  to  natun  ,  :(.'."• 

7.  Result  of  want  of  parental  character  in 

earliest  instruction, 3-J7 

8.  Faith  in   God  will  supply  to  parents  the 

proper  feelings iUii 

9.  Sketch  of  an  institution   for  education  of 

the  poor 333 

II.    INSTRUCTION. 

1.  Elementary  means  of  instruction  are  num- 

ber, form,  speech 337 

2.  First  means,  sound :t:t'.i 

A .  Tones 33<j 

B.  Words  or  names 342 

C.  Language 343 

Second  means,  form, 3."»  J 


PACE 

a.  Measuring 3a2 

b.  Drawing 35(i 

c.  Writing 356 

4.  Third  means,  number, 360 

a.  Arithmetic, 3(11 

III.    THE  SCHOOL  IN  BONNAL. 

1.  How  a  good  school  is  established, 364 

2.  Basis  of  a  good  school, 365 

3.  A  recruiting  officer's  doings, 367 

4.  A  proud  schoolmaster, 368 

5.  School  organization, 369 

6.  Same,  continued 370 

7.  God's  word  is  truth 372 

8.  To  be  as  good  as   a  man  can  be,  it  is 

neces«ary  to  apj>ear  bad, 373 

9.  He  who  dujoins  the  principles  of  arith- 

metic and  the  sense  ol  truth,  puts 
asunder  whnt  Go<l  has  joined,  374 

10.  A  proved  antidote   to    mean    and    faUe 

backbiting 376 

11.  A  fool's  words,  and  school  punishment, .377 
IV.     RESULTS    OF  REFLECTION   AND    EXPE- 
RIENCE ON  ELEMENTARY  TRA  ININO,  378—446 

PART     IV. 

CONTRIBUTIONS  TO  A  SYSTEM  OF  PUBLIC 
INSTRUCTION,  AND.WORD8  TO  THE  FATH- 
ER-LAND. 

I.  THE    MUNICIPAL    ORGANIZATION    OF    BON- 
NAL. 

1.  Amer's  ordinances, 449^ 

2  Arner  applies  his  principles  to  counteract 
the  besetting  sin  of  our  time— indo- 
lence  455 

3.  Arner's  forms  of  process,  &c., 458 

4.  His  laws  against  theft 462 

5.  His  laws  for  protection  of  charity 4(i5 

6.  Influence  of  his  laws  on  love  of  pleasure, 

ease,  and  honor 468 

7.  Religion, ITn 

8.  Superstition  and  irreligion, 472 

'J.   How  A rncr  protected  his  people  from  su- 
perstition,   473 

10.  A  word  on  the  necessity  of  divine  service 

for  perfecting  true  popular  enlighten- 
ment  475 

II.  Arner's    mode  of  celebrating    festivals 

both  is  adapted  to  the  character  and 
condition  of  farmers  and  serves  the  pur- 
poses both  of  a  wise  lawgiver  and  a 
pious  religious  teacher,  as  well  as  is 
adapted  to  the  personal  circumstances 
of  those  who  celebrate  it, 477 

1-J  Hitherto  have  I  tended  from  the  begin- 
ning; and  if  you  say  No,  reader,  you 
mutt  go  back  and  say  No  to  much  that 
goes  before 483 

13.  Arner  takes  down  the  gallows,  erects  a 
hospital,  and  provides  for  the  hang- 
man  487 

11.  MANAGEMENT   OF   PRISONERS   AND    THEIR 
CHILDREN 488—500 

III.    APHORISMS  ON  PUBLIC  EDUCATION. 
1.  Consequences  of  public  punishment. ....  .500 

•J.  How  can  the  legislator  prevent  crimes  ?.  .501 
:i    How  can  the  State  do  its  duty  to  illegit- 
imate children  ? 502 

4.  The  lawgiver  diminishes   vice  and  crime 

by  promoting  domestic  discipline, 505- 

5.  Special  introduction  by  circumstances  to 

the  condition  of  servitude, 506- 

6.  The  le<ri!.lator  founds  upon  the  inward  en- 

dowments and  tendencies  of  nature, ...507 

TO    MY    FA  THICK    LAND,..  ...510 


VI 

Remark 

Chronology  ot 
Concluding  re 


ark. 


..515 
..531 
..532 


170  I'l.MAlo/./l       I.ITKK.Vil  UK. 


11.     WORKS  REsi-Lcnxi;  PKSIALOZZI  AND  His  EDUCATIONAL 

BANDLIX,  J.  11.,  IVstalozzi;  his  times,  his  fato,  and  his  labors.  A  work  for 
friends  of  human  culture  and  promoters  of  a  better  future.  (Pestalozzi,  seine 
Zeit,  seine  Schicksale,  und  sein  Wirkcn,  &c.)  Schatt'hausen  :  Brodtman.  1843. 

BIBER,  EDWARD,  Contribution  to  the  Biography  of  Heinrich  Pestalozzi, 
1827.  (Beitrag  Zur  Biographic  II.  Pestalozzi.)  1827. 

(An  important  collection  of  documents  for  our  knowledge  of  the  last  fourteen 
years  of  Pestalozzi's  life  ;  but  as  to  opinions  relative  to  Pestalozzi,  a  non  plua 
ultra  of  impiety  and  injustice.) 

BLOCHMANN,  K.  J.,  Heinrich  Pustalozzi.  —  Sketches  from  the  pictures  of  his 
life  and  labors;  from  his  own  testimony,  from  inspection,  and  information. 
(H.  Pestalozzi.  Zuye  aw  dem  Bilde  seines  Lebens  und  Wirkens  nach  Selbstzeugn  issen, 
AnscJiauungen  und  Mitthcilungen.)  Leipzig.  1846. 

BURKHART.  Was  Pestalozzi  an  infidel?  (  War  Pestalozzi  ein  Unglaubigert) 
Leipzig:  Hartknoch.  1841. 

-:KR\vK(s.  A.  H.,  Pestalozzi.—  >•  An  Address  at  the  festival  on  his  hun- 
d.odtli  birthday.  January  rJth,  1846,  delivered  at  Berlin  by  A  Diesterweg. 
{h.  Pestalozzi.  Rede  bei  der  Manner-  Feier  seines  hunderfydhrigen  Geburtstages  am 
12  Januar  1846,  zu  Berlin  geJialten  von  Adolph  Diesterweg.)  Berlin.  1846. 

SAME.  Pestalozzi.  —  A  word  on  him  and  his  immortal  services  to  children 
and  their  parents,  at  the  first  centennial  festival  of  his  birth.  By  A.  D.  Third 
edition.  (//.  Pestalozzi.  Ein  Wort  uber  ihn  und  seine  unsterblichen  Verdiente,fur 
die  Kinder  und  deren  Eltern,  zu  dem  ersten  Sacularfeste  seiner  GtburL  Von  A.  D. 
Dritte  Auftage.)  Berlin.  1845. 

DIESTERWEG,  Ratisch,  and  Mnssmann.  Festival  of  the  hundredth  birthday 
of  H.  Pestalo/./.i.  !!•  -rim,  January  12,  1845.  (Die  Feier  des  IQQsten  Geburtstages 
ffeinricJi  Pestalozzi's,  in  Berlin  am  12  Januar  1845.)  Berlin.  1845. 

Essays  for  and  against  Pestalozzi's  System  of  Instruction.  1806.  (Aufsatze 
fur  und  gegen  die  Pestalozzische  Unterrichtsmethode.) 

KWALD,  J.  LUDWIO,     Lectures  on  the  theory  and  art  of  education,  for  fathers, 
mothers,  and  educators.     (  Vorlesungen  uber  die  Erziehungskunst  fur  Vat- 
ler,  und  Erzietutr.)    3  vola.     Manheim.     1808. 

GRUNER,  ANTON*,  Letters  from  Burgdorf  on  Pestalozzi,  his  method  and  his 
institution.  Second  edition,  enlarged.  (Briefe  aus  Burgdorf  uber  Pestalozzi, 
seine  Methode  und  Anstalt.  Zweite  Aufttige.)  Frankfort-on-the-Maino.  1806. 

HKNXIXI;.  (of  Coslin.)  Information  on  Pestalozzi's  peculiarities,  life,  and  edu- 
cational institutions.  (Jfittheilungen  uber  H.  Pestalozzi's  Eigenthumlichkeit,  Leben, 
und  Erziehungs-Anstalten.) 

(In  Harnisch's  "School  Councilor  on  the  Oder,"  (Schulrath  an  der  Oder,) 
Parti.  1814.) 

HERBART.  Pestalozzi's  idea  of  the  rudiments  of  instruction.  (Pestalozzi's 
Idee  eines  ABC  des  Anschauungs,  von  Herbart)  Gottingen.  1804. 

HEUSSLER.  Pestalozzi's  results  in  education,  (Pestalozzi's  Leistungen  im  Er- 
ziehungsfache.)  Basle.  1836. 

ITHO,  JOHANN,  Official  Rei>ort  on  the  Pestalozzi  Institution.  (Amtlicher  Be- 
riclit  uber  die  Pestalozzische  AnstaU.) 

KROGER,  J.  C.,  Information  on  Pestalozzi  and  his  methods  of  education. 
{Mitthetiuntjen  uber  Pestalozzi  und  seine  Erziehungs-  Methode.)  Hamburg.  1846. 

KRUSI.  Recollections  of  my  pedagogical  life,  before,  during,  and  since  my 
connection  with  Pestalozzi.  (Erinnerungen  aus  meinen  padagogischen  Leben 
und  Wirken,  &c.)  Stuttgardt:  Cast.  1840. 

MONNICH,  W.  B.,  J.  H.  Pestalozzi,  painted  by  himself  and  by  others.  (J. 
H.  Pestalozzi,  nach  ihm  selbst  und  Andern  geschildert.) 

In  the  "  Cotemporaries,"  (Zeitgenossen.)     Leipzig.     1813. 

NIEDERER.  Pestalozzi's  educational  undertakings,  in  their  relation  to  the  cul- 
ture of  the  age.  (Pestalozzi's  Erztiehungs-Unternehmung  im  VerhaUnisse  zur 
Zeitcultur.)  1812. 

PESTALOZZI-FOUNDATIOX.     The  German  Pestalozzi-Foumlation.     First  finao- 


STAI  n//i.    i.nr.KAii  1:1:  171 

<•!:,!  r.-i.MiT.  uy  l)ifsti-r\vr^  ainl  Kalisdi.  (Die  Dtutsche  Ptstalozzi-Stiftung.  Era- 
''if(x-l>,  /•"•//'.  '/--('iff'/  •  :t  n/i<l  Kulisch.)  Berlin.  1847. 

i'L  \M\XN,  J.  E.,  Some  fundamental  ruK-s  of  tin-  art  of  instruction,  after 
I'.-stuW./.i's  niL-thod,  applied  to  natural  history,  geography,  and  language. 
i-icUtx-kunxt  ii'K-h  J'rxtalozzi's  Method*,  angewandt  in 
<lcr  X'UnKj-xcldchtt,  Geographie,  und  Sprache.)  Halle.  1805. 

RAMSAUEK.  Short  sketches  of  my  pedagogical  life.  (Kurze  Skizze  meines 
l>tt'l>i<ji>iji^htn  Lebens.)  Oldenburg.  1838. 

RAUMER,  K.  von,  History  of  pedagogy.  (Geschichte  der  Padagogik.)  Vol. 
2,  pp.  287,  -Hii. 

Remarks  against  Pestalozzi's  system  of  instruction.  By  Steinmiiller,  pastor. 
1803. 

W.  VON  TURK.  Letters  from  Miirichen-Buchsee  upon  Pestalozzi  and  his 
method  of  elementary  training.  (Briefe  aus  Miinchen-Buchsee  ubcr  Pestalozzi 
und  seine  Elementar-Bildungsimtiiod.)  Leipzig,  1806.  2  vols. 

FRENCH  WORKS  ON  PESTALOZZI. 

JULMEN,  MARC  ANTOINE,  Spirit  of  the  method  followed  and  practiced  by 
Pestalozzi  in  the  educational  institution  at  Yverdun.  (&prit  de  la  mtthode  de 
Pestalozzi,  suivie  et  praliqute  dans  F  tnstitut  d1  education  £  Yverdun.)  2  vols. 
.Milan.  1812. 

PESTALOZZI.  Manuel  des  meres.  Traduit  del'  Alleraand.  Geneva  and  Paris. 
1821. 

ENGLISH  WORKS  RELATIVE  TO  PESTALOZZI. 

UIISKR,  E,  Henry  Pestalozxi.  and  his  plan  of  education;  being  an  account 
of  his  life  and  writings;  with  copious  extracts  from  his  works,  and  extensive 
details  illustrative  of  the  practical  parts  of  his  method.  London.  1831. 

BLACKWOOD'S  MAGAZINE.     I'«  si  a  Ic/./.i's  system.    Vol.  66,  p.  93. 

EDINBURGH  REVIKW.     Pe0talauTs Bjvtem    Vol.  47,  p.  119. 

\\  KS.  J.  P.,     Letters  and  extracts  from  MS.  writings.     Ham  Common. 
•Surrey.     1843. 

HINTS  TO  PARENTS  on  the  cultivation  of  children,  in  the  spirit  of  Pestalozzi's 
method.  London.  1827.  (Six  parts.) 

PESTALOZZI.  Letters  on  early  education.  Addressed  to  J.  P.  Greaves,  Esq. 
Translated  from  the  German.  With  a  memoir  of  Pestalozzi.  London.  1827. 

PESTALOZZI.  Leonard  and  Gertrude.  Translated  from  the  German.  2  vols., 
12  mo.  London.  1825. 

AMERICAN  WORKS  ON  PESTALOZZI. 

ACADEMICIAN.  This  educational  monthly,  edited  by  A.  and  J.  W.  Pickett, 
"N.  Y.,  1818-19,  contains  a  brief  article  on  Pcstulozzi'a  system,  p.  214,  No.  14; 
and  a  series  of  seven  articles  on  the  same  subject,  in  Nos.  16-23;  the  first  on 
p.  245, 

ALCOTT,  A.  B.,  Pestalozzi's  principles  and  methods  of  instruction.  (Article 
in  American  Journal  of  Education,  Vol  IV.,  No.  2,  March  and  April,  1829,  p.  97.) 

ALCOTT,  A.  B.,  Review  of  "  Maternal  Instruction,  Ac.  In  the  spirit  of  Pes- 
talozzi." "American  Journal  of  Education"  Vol.  IV.,  No.  1,  January  and  Feb- 
ruary, 1829,  p.  53. 

DIAL.     Memoir  of  J.  P.  Greaves.     October  1842,  and  January  1843. 

LIVING  AGE.    Pestalozzi's  system.     Vol.  XXII.,  p.  461. 

MATERNAL  INSTRUCTION,  OR  HINTS  TO  PARENTS.  In  the  spirit  of  Pestal- 
•ozzi's  method.  Salem,  Mass.  1825. 

MUSEUM.     Memoir.     Vol.  XIII.,  p.  278,  and  Vol.  XIX.,  p.  493. 

RIPLEY,  GEORGE,  Memoir  of  Pestalozzi,  in  "  Christian  Examiner."  Vol.  XI , 
•p.  347. 

UNITED  STATES  LITERARY  GAZETTE.     Pestalozzi's  system.     Vol.  I.,  pp.  344, 


PESTALOZZIAN  LITERATURE. 

III.     PUBLICATIONS  ON  PESTALOZZI  AND  PESTALOZZIANISM.* 

ABS,  Jos.  TIIEOD.  Darstellung  meiner  Aimi-mlting  der  Pestalozzi'schen- 
BiUlnngsmethode.  Halberstudt,  1811. 

Pestalozzi's  Anstrrnmingen    fiir    Menschenbildung  gesdiichtlirh  dar 

Ct-stfllt.     Halberstadt,  1815. 

ACADEMICIAN  of  1818-19.  Pcstalozzi — a  Series  of  Articles  by  a  "  Citizen 
of  Clinton  County,"  N.  Y.  A  portion  Republished  in  Russell's  American. 
Journal  «>f  Kducation  for  1829. 

Ac KE KM AN.V,  \V.  H.  Erinncrungen  aus  meinem  Leben  bei  Pestalozzi. 
Frankfurt  a/M.,  1846. 

ALBBRTI,  C.  E.  R.  H.  Pestalozzi.  In  der  Sammlung  gemeinverstiindlicher 
v  i>M-ii«-h;ift!k'her  Vortrage  von  R.  Virchow  und  Fr.  von  llolt/i'tidorff.  (Heft 
79.)  Berlin,  1869. 

ALCOTT  A.  BKOXSON.     Pestalozzi,  Principles  and  Methods,  99  p.,  1829. 

AMERICAN  ANNALS  OF  EDUCATION.  Life  and  System  of  Pestalozzi,  com- 
pared with  Basedow.  Woodbridge,  1837. 

AMERICAN  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION,  ed.  by  H.  Barnard.  Pestalozzi  and 
his  Svstein. — Papers  to  the  aggregate  of  800  pages,  in  Volumes  III.,  IV  ,  VI., 
VII.;  X  .  XXX.  XXXI.  Hartford,  1857-1880. 

AMOROS.  Mi'tnoire,  In  a  la  Societe  pour  1'instruction  elK-mentaire,  sur  les 
avantatres  de  la  nic-thode  d'education  de  Pestalozzi  et  sur  'experience  decisive 
faite  en  Espague  en  faveur  de  cette  methode.  Paris,  1815. 

AUCH  ANSICHTEN  und  Erfahrungen  uber  Institute  und  Schulen,  eine  Priifung 
des  Schmitl'srlien  Buches  "Erfahrungen  und  Ansichten."  Deutschland,  1811. 

AUCH  EIN  WORT.    s.  Keller. 

AUFFORDERUNGEN  und  Vorschlage  zur  Veredlung  des  Schulund  Erziehungs- 
wesens.  Leipzig,  1800. 

AUFSATZE.     For  and  against  Pestalozzi's  System,    s.  Homer. 

D'AUTEL,  A.  H.  Priifung  des  Werthes  der  Pestalozzi 'schen  Methode. 
Stut  r.trart,  1810. 

BABLER,  J.  J.  Ein  bescheidenes  Bliimchen  auf  das  Grab  Pestalozzi's.. 
Glarus,  1846. 

BAR.     s.  Pestalozzi. 

BAOOE,  E.  \V.  G.     Pestalozzi.     Frankfurt  a/M.,  1847. 

BANDLIN,  DR.  J.  B.     Pestalozzi.     Schaffhausen,  1843. 

Der  Genius  von  Vater  Pestalozzi.     Zurich,  1846. 

BARNARD,  HENRY.  Pestalozzi,  Franklin  and  Oberlin,  true  Popular  Educa- 
tors: 24  p.  Hartford,  1839.  Edition  of  1880,  80  p. 

Pestalozzi's  Educational  Labors  for  the  Poor,  and  the  Popular  Schools, 

in  Barnard's  Reformatory  and  Preventive  Institutions,  16  p.     Hartford,  1847. 

Pestalozzi  and  his  Method  of  Instruction,  48  p.     Hartford,  1849. 

Life  and  Educational  Views,  from  Rammer,  126  p.    Hartford,  1857. 

Pestalozzi  and  his  Assistants  and  Disciples,  224  p.    Hartford,  1858. 

Pestalozzi  and  Pestalozzianism,  474  p.     1862. 

Third  Edition,  with  Fellenberg  and  Wehrli,  p.  528.    1870. 

Leonard  and  Gertrude,  translated  from  Ed.  of  1781,  152  p. 

Second  Edition,  with  Evening  Hour  of  a  Hermit;  New  Year 

and  Christmas  Addresses  to  his  Family,  221  p.     Hartford,  1860. 

Pestalozzi,   Fellenberg    and   Wehrli,    in    relation   to   the    Industrial 

Element  in  Education,  16  p.     Hartford,  1861. 

Pestalozzi  and  Froebel  in  Child  Culture,  32  p.     1881. 

Pestalozzi's  One  Hundredth  Birth- Day,  and  the  Literature  of  Pesta- 
lozzianism. Second  Edition,  32  p.  1881. 

Pestalozzi  and  other  Swiss  Educators  (Zwingle,  Calvin,  Rousseau,  Girard, 

Frllenberg,  Wehrli,  Kuratli,  Agassiz,  etc.).     Memoirs  and  Educational  Views, 
740  p.     Hartford,  1883. 

*  Revised  to  1883.  Mainly  from  "  Catalogue  of  tt'orka  on  Pcstalozzi ''  by  A.  Schumann,  of 
Zoflrxf ,  printed  in  Schweizerische  Zeitschrift  jur  Gememnuelzigkrit.  Zurich,  1879. 


rii  iTALOZZIAN  LITEUATURE.  178 

(iJ.vi-KK).  Pest:ilu//i  (U-r  Krvolutionar.  Von  eincm  Zoglinge  desselben. 
(  harlutti-iilmri;.  1^46. 

BELEUCHTUNG  der  Pestalozzi 'schen  Grosssprechereien.     Erfurt,  1804. 

BKMKHK.UNGEN  iiber  Krziehmigs  Unterrieht.  Gewidmet  deu  Gonnern  und 
IV'fordiTi'ni  der  hirsigon  Anstalt  nach  Pestalozzi'schen  Grundsatzen.  Bei 
ijlelegenheit  der  zweiten  Priifung.  Basel,  1811. 

BERICHT  iiber  die  Pestalozzi'sche  Erziehunpsanstalt  zu  Yverdon  an  S.  Excel- 
lenz  den  Herrn  Landammann  und  die  h.  Ta«rs;itzung  der  Schweiz.  Eidgenossrn- 
vschaft.  Gudruckt  auf  Befehl  der  Tagsatzung.  Bern,  1810  (von  G'irard, 
Tnclt*tl,  Merian). 

BIBER,  E.     Beitrng  zur  Biographie  H.  Pestalozzi's.     St.  Gallen,  1827 

Henry  Pestalozzi,  and  his  plan  of  education.     London,  1831. 

BIOGRAPHIE  de  Henri  Pestalozzi,  s.  Chavannes. 

BITZIUS,  s.  Gotthelf. 

BLACKWOOD'S  MAGAZINE.  Pestalozziana.  Reminiscences  of  an  English 
Student  (before  1818).  Vol.  66,  1849. 

BLATTER,  rheinische,  fur  Erziehnng  und  Unterrieht.  Herausgegeben  von  A. 
Diestcrweg.  Essen.  Jahrgange,  1845— 47.  Band,  31 — 36. 

vorlaufige,  von  den  Verhandlungen  der  schweizerischen  Gesellschaft 

fur  Erziehung.  1808. 

BLOCHMANN,  K.  J.     Heinrich  Pestalozzi.     Leipzig,  1846. 

Pestalozzi;  Poor  School  at  Neuhof,  in  Barnard's  Reform'y  Ed.     1857. 

BONAPARTE,  Talleyrand,  et  Stapfer,  1800—1803.     Zurich,  1869. 

BORDIKK.     ancien  pasteur,  Pestalozzi.     Neuchatcl,  1873. 

BORN  HA  USER,  TH.  Pestalozzi's  Andenken.  Gedicht,  an  der  Feier  des 
Vaters  Pesta!o/./i  bei  seinem  hundertsten  Geburtstage  den  12.  Jan.,  1846,  ge- 
sungen  von  der  thurg.  Lehrerschaft  in  Weinfelden. 

BREBII,  J.  H.  Ueber  die  Schrift:  Pestalozzi's  Erziehungsunternehmung  u. 
s.  w.  Ziirich,  1812. 

BRIEFE.     s.  Pestalozzi. 

BROUGHAM,  HENRY.    Evidence  before  Education  Committee.     1818. 

BiicHi,  J.  J.    Ein  Wort  iiber  Pest'zi's  Leben  und  Wirken.   Winterthur,  1846. 

BUEL,  J.  Was  soil  in  den  Landschulen  der  Schweiz  gelehrt  und  nicht 
gelehrt  werden?  Winterthur,  1801. 

BDRGWARDT,  HBINRICH.    Heinr.  Pestalozzi.    Altona,  1846. 

BURKHART,  K.  F.  E.  War  Heinrich  Pestalozzi  ein  Unglaubiger  ?  Leipzig,  '41 

Pestalozzi  und  seine  Leistungen  nach  deren  Einfluss  auf  eine  religise. 

Volkserziehung.  Leipzig,  1846. 

BUSINGER.  Die  Geschichten  des  Volks  von  Unterwalden  ob  und  nid  dem 
Wald.  2  Bande.  Luzern,  1878. 

CHAVANNES,  D.  AL.  Expose  de  la  m£thode  elementaire  de  Pestalozzi,  suivi 
d'une  notice  sur  cet  homme  celebre.  Paris,  1805.  Vevey,  1806.  Nouv.  ed. 
Paris  et  Geneve,  1809. 

(CHAVANNBS,  MLLB.)     Biographic  de  H.  Pestalozzi.     Lausanne,  1853. 

CHRISTIAN  EXAMINER.  Boston.  Articles  by  J.  Walker,  vi.  p.  287 ;  G 
Ripley,  xi.  347  ;  W.  P.  Atkinson,  Ixviii.  63. 

CHRISTMANN,  W.  L.  Versuch  einer  Metakritik  der  Weltverbesserung  oder 
ein  Wort  ueber  Pestalozzi  und  Pestalozzismus.  Ulm,  1812. 

CHRISTOFFEL,  R.     Pestalozzi's  Leben  und  Ansichten.     Zurich,  1846. 

COCHIN.     Essai  sur  le  vie  d'Henri  Pestalozzi,  p.  96.     1848. 

COLLMANN,  C.  L.  Mittheilungen  aus  dem  Leben  und  den  Schriften  H.  Pes- 
talozzi's, zum  Gebrauche  in  Familien  und  Schulen.  Kassel,  1845. 

Ein  Wort  zur  Erinnerung  an  den  100.  Geburtstag  Pestalozzi's.  Kassel,  '46. 

COMPATRE,  G.  Pestalozzi  and  Rousseau.  Histoire  Critique  de  1'Education 
in  France.  Vol.  II.  Paris.  1876. 

CONRAD.  M.  G.  Pestalozzi.  Rede  zur  Einweihung  der  deutschen  Loge  "Pesta- 
lozzi "  zu  Neapel.  Leipzig,  1873.  Vermuthlich  wieder  abgedruckt  in  Conrad: 
*'Vom  Heissbrett.  Fieimaurerische  Ansprachen  und  Skizzen."  Zurich,  1875. 


174  PESTALOZZIAN  LITERATURE. 

CORRODI.  An  Vater  Pestalozzi,  zur  hundertjiihrigen  Gedachtnissfeier. 
Winterthur,  1846. 

CRAMER.  Parallele  zwischen  Sokrates  u.  Pestalozzi.  In  der  "  Piidag. 
Revue"  von  Dr.  Mager.  15.  Bd.  Zurich,  1847.  S.  265—  284. 

CURTMANN,  W.  J.  G.  Eroffnungsrede  des  im  Jahre  1846  begangenen 
Sakularfestes,  der  Getmrt  Pestalozzi's,  gesprochen  zu  Frankfurt  a/M.,  - 


drurkt  in  der  "Allgemeinen  Schulzeitung  "  von  Ziinmermann  1855,  Nr.  5.  Das 
Wesentliche  davon  tindet  sich  bei  J.  Folsing,  Dr.  W.  J.  G.  Curtmaun,  Sein 
Leben  und  Wirken  Leipzig,  1873. 

CURTI,  G.  Pestalozzi.  Notizie  della  sua  vita  e  delta  sue  opere  etc.  Seconda 
edizione.  Bellinzoiia,  1876. 

CUVIER,  F.     Plan  d'organisation  pour  les  ecoles  primaires.     Paris,  1815. 

CYCLOPEDIA  OF  EDUCATION.    John  Henry  Pestalozzi.    Steiger,  N.  Y.,  1876. 

DALTON,  H.  Johannes  von  Muralt.  Eine  Padagogen-  und  Pastorengestalt. 
Wiesbaden,  1876. 

DIAL  for  October,  1842,  and  Jan.,  1843.     Greaves  and  Pestalozzi.     Boston. 

DIESTERWKG,  Kalisch,  Massinann.  Die  Feier  des  hundertjiihrigen  Geburts- 
tags  Pestalozzi's  in  Berlin.  Berlin,  1845. 

(DIESTERWKG).  Ein  Wort  ueber  Pestalozzi  und  seine  unsterblichen  Ver- 
dienste  fuer  die  Kinder  und  deren  Eltern,  etc.  1.  —  3.  Aufl.  Berlin,  1845. 

--  \Vas  wollte  Pestalozzi  und  was  wollen  wir  ?  Rede  bei  der  Mannerfeier. 
Berlin,  1846. 

--  Fichte  und  Pestalozzi.  In:  1863!  Jahrbuch  fuer  Lehrer  und  Schul 
freunde  13  Jahrgang.  Frankfurt  a/M.,  1862.  S.  24—63. 

--  Influence  of  Pestalozzi  on  Modern  Schools.     Hartford,  1862. 

DIETSCHI,  P.  Das  Sakularfest  von  Vater  Pestalozzi,  gefeiert  in  Oensingen 
von  den  Lehrern  und  Schulfreundeudes  Kantons  Solothurn  den  12.  Januar,  1846. 

--  Pestalozzi  und  sein  Wirken.  Rede,  gehalten  an  seiner  hundertjahrigen 
Geburtsfeier  den  12.  Jan.  1846,  zu  Oensingen. 

DRKIBT,  K.  A.  Gottesverehrungen,  gehalten  im  Betsaale  des  Pestalozzi'schen 
Instituts  zu  Iferten.  Erstea  Heft.  Nebst  einem  Anhange  ueber  Pestalozzi's 
Ansichten  von  der  Religion.  Zurich,  1812. 

DCVAL.     Precis  de  la  nouvelle  methode  de  Pestalozzi.    Paris,  1804. 

EDINBURGH  REVIEW.    Mayo's  Principles  of  Pestalozzi.    Vol.  47,  118.    1828. 

EDUCATIONAL  EXPOSITOR.  Rauraer's  Life  of  Pestalozzi.  Translated  by  J. 
Tilleard.  London,  1853-4. 

EIN  ZEUGB  DER  WAHRHBIT.    s.  Herder. 

ELDITT,  H.  L.     Erinnerungen  an  H.  Pestalozzi.     Konigsberg,  1846. 

ERORTERUNG  der  neuern  Lagc  der  Pestalozzi'schen  Methode.  (Ohne  Titel 
blatt  in  dem  Sammdband  Gal.  XXI  V,  1135  der  SladtbiblUthek  Zurich  ) 

EVERS,  E.  A.  Ueber  die  Schulbildung  zur  Bestialitat.  Programm  der 
Kantonsschule  in  Aarau,  1807. 

EWALI>,  J.  L.  Geist  der  Pestalozzi'schen  Bildungsmethodc,  nach  Urkunden 
u.  eige  ier  Ansicht.  Zehn  Vorlesungen.  Bremen,  1805. 

-  Geist  und  Fortschritte  der  Pestalozzi'schen  Bildungsmethode.     Mann- 
heim, 1810. 

FKLLEXBERG,  E.  v.     Der  dreimonatliche  Bildnngskurs.     Bern,  1833. 

FBLLENBKHR.  WILLIAM  DE.  Pestalozzi,  Fellenberg,  and  Wehrli  in  relation. 
to  Industrial  Education,  16  p.  Hartford,  1860. 

FESTSCHRIFT  zur  Einweihung  des  neuen  Schulhauses  in  Fluntern,  1874. 
Zurich,  1874.  (S.  45  ff.) 

FICIITE,  J.  G.  Reden  an  die  cleutschc  Nation.  1808  ("  Bibliotluk  ilcr  dcutschen 
Nationalliteratur,"  Bd.  3  1  .  Leipzig,  1871). 

FISCHER,  E.     s.  Pestalozzi-Album. 

FISCHER.  E  G.  Ueber  Pestalozzi's  Lehrart.  In  den  Abhandlungen  der- 
Kgl.  Akademic  der  Wissenschaften  und  schonen  Kunste.  Berlin,  1803. 


PESTALOZZIAN  LITERATURE.  175- 

FLUNTERN.     s.  Festschrift. 

FROEBEL,  F.  A.  Principles  and  Method  of  Pestalozzi.  Barnard's  Journal 
of  Education,  20  p.  Hartford,  1881. 

FROHLICH,  EMAN.  Zum  Andenken  des  Vaters  Pestalozzi,  auf  die  Feier  seines 
Geburtstags  (Gedicht)  1846. 

(GAMPER,  W.)    Pestalozzi's  Idee  von  der  Wohnstube.     Zurich,  1846. 

GILL,  JOHN.  Pestalozzi  and  Pestalozzian  System.  Systems  of  Education, 
p.  64-93.  London,  1876. 

GIRARD,     s.  Rapport. 

GIRAUD,  CH.  Rapport  sur  le  c<>ncours  relatif  an  syst&me  de  Pestalozzi, 
(Seances  et  travaux  de  I  Academic  dts  sciences  morales  et  politiques.  Paris,  1850. 

7010  .\  9-ue  //„,..) 

Go ii RUNG.  Ueber  die  Einfuhrbarkeit  der  Pestalozzi'schen  Methode  io 
Volksschulen.  Stuttgart,  1810. 

GOTTHELF,  JEHEM i AS.  Ein  Wort  zur  Pestalozzifeier  ("  Pad.  Revue  "  von  Dr. 
Mager,  Bd.  14.  Zurich,  1846.  S.  49-65). 

GREAVES,  J.  P.     Letters  of  Pestalozzi.     London,  1843. 

Memoir  and  Letters.     London,  1827. 

GRISCOM,  JOHN.     Visit  to  Yverlon  in  1818.    Year  in  Europe.    Vol.  I.,  267. 

GRUNKR,  ANT.  Briefe  aus  Burgdorf  ttber  Pestalozzi.  Hamburg,  1804 
Zweite  unveriinderte  und  mit  vier  neuen  Briefen  vermehrte  Ausgabe.  Frank 
furt,  a/M.,  1806. 

Noch  ein  Wort  zur  Empfehlung  der  kraftigern,  namentlich  Pestalozzi'- 

schen  Weise  in  der  Behandlung  und  im  Unterricht  der  Jugend.  Ein  Nachtrag 
zu  d«-u  Briefen  aus  Burgdorf.  Frankfut,  a/M.,  1806. 

GDIMPS,  R.  DE.     Notice  sur  Pestalozzi.     "  Journal  d'Yverdon,"  1843. 

Histoire  de  Pestalozzi.     Lausanne,  1874. 

HAGEN.  Ueber  das  Wesentliche  der  von  Pestalozzi  aufgestellten  Menschen- 
bildungsweise.  Erlangan,  1810. 

HAGENBACH.     Kirchengeschichte  des  18  und  19  Jahrhunderts. 

HAILMAN,  W.  N.     Pestalozzi,  in  History  of  Pedagogy  1868. 

From  Pestalozzi  to  Froebel.    Doerflinger,  Milwaukee,  Wisconsin,  1880. 

HAM  AN  NT,  A.  Ueber  die  Bedeutung  der  Pestalozzi'schen  Elementarbildung 
in  d.  Gesammtausbildung  d.  Menschen.  Potsdam,  1846. 

HANSKN,  H.  A.  Rede  bei  der  Sakulargeburtsfeier  J.  Heinrich  Pestalozzi's  am 
12  Januar,  1846.  Altona. 

HARNISCH,  W.     Mein  Lebensmorgen.     Berlin,  1865. 

HARTMANN,  C.  F.  Lebensskizze  des  edlen  Menschen-  und  Kinderfreundes 
Heinrich  Pestalozzi.  Reutlingen,  1846. 

HARWOCK,  G.  A.    J.  H.  Pestalozzi.     Halle,  1869. 

HEER,  J.     Rede  bei  der  Pestalozzifeier  in  Wadensweil.     Zurich,  1846. 

—  J.  J.     Das  Wesen    der  Pestalozzi'schen   Methode  als   Grundlage  einer 
christlichen  Erziehung.     Ziirich,  1870. 

—  G.     Pestalozzi  und  seine  Aussat.     Vortrag  in  Hatzingen.     Glarus,  1878. 
HEINE,  AD.     Pestalozzifeier  in  Hildburghausen.     1846. 

HEMPEL,  C.  G.  Pestalozzi's  Menschenlehre  aus  seinen  "  Nachforschungen." 
Leipzig,  1803. 

Pestalozzi's  Religionslehre      Leipzig,  1804. 

HENNING,  J.  W.  M.  Leitfaden  beim  methodischen  Unterricht  in  der  Geog- 
raphic. Iferten,  1812. 

HKNNING,  J.  W.  M.  Mittheilungen  fiber  Pestalozzi's  Eigenthumlichkeit, 
Leben  und  Erziehungsanstalten  in  Harnisch's  "  Schnlrath  an  der  Oder." 
1814  (Lief.  1). 

Monatsblatt  f.  Pommerns  Volksschullehrer.     12  Jahrg.,  1846. 


176  PESTALOZZIAN  LITKK ATI  KK 

HERBART,  J.  F.  R.  Pestalozzi's  Idee  dues  ABC  der  Anschauung.  Got- 
tingen,  1804. 

Ueber  den  Standpuiikt  drr  Benxtheflmig  <ler  Pestalozzi'schen  Uuter- 

riehtsmethode.     Bremen,  1804. 

Ueber  Pestalozzi's   ueueste   Schrift    "  Wie   Gertrud "   (Irene,    1802), 

nenerlirh  nu-hrfach  edirt. 

HERDER,  J  G.  Kezension  der  Schrift  "Meine  Nachforschungen  "  in  den 
"Erfurtrr  -.  Iclirten  Nachru-htrn,"  1797,  St.  60.  Werke  Bund  13.  Extra- 
Abdruc-k  :  Kin  /ru^e  di-r  Wahrheit  oder  Herder  ueber  Pestalozzi.  Zurich. 

HERZOG.  K.  Joh.  Heinr.  Pestalozzi  im  "  Neuen  Nekrolog  der  Deutschen." 
5  Jahrg..  IS27.  llmenau,  1829.  (S.  187—212.) 

HEDBR.  A.     Schulgeschichte  von  Burgdorf.     1874. 

HEUSSLER.     Pestalozzi's  Leistungen  im  Kr/.ii •liunirsfache.     Basel,  1838. 

HIMLEY,  J.  F.  W.  Versuch  einer  Einleitung  in  die  Grundsiitze  des  Pesta- 
lozzi'schen Elementarunterricbts.  Berlin,  1803. 

Bevtrag  sur  nahern  Einverstnndigung  ueber  die  Pestalozzi 'sche  Methode. 

Berlin,  1804. 

Piidagogische  Mittheilungen.     1  und  2  Stueck.     Berlin,  1809. 

HOFFMEISTER,  H.  Comenius  und  Pestalozzi  als  Begruender  der  Volksschule. 
Berlin,  1877. 

HOFFMAN.  Ueber  Entwicklung  und  Bildung  der  menachlichen  Erkenntniss- 
kraft  zur  Verbreitung  des  Pestalozzi 'sell en  Eleraentarunterrichtes.  Basel,  1805. 

(  HORNER,  J. )  Aufsiitze  fur  uud  gegen  die  Pestulozzi'sche  Unterrichtsmethode. 
Zurich,  1806. 

J.  J.     Ein  Blick  auf  einige  neuere  Verbesserungsversuche  des 
Xnricli.  1809. 

Ein  Wort  an  Prof.  Joh.  Schulthess.     Zurich,  1810. 

Kektoratsmlen.     1813. 

K,.,!,.  1,,-i  ,ior  Gediichtnissfoior  II.  Pestalozzi's,  den  12  Jan.   1846  in  d. 

Gr.issinuensterkiicln-  xn  Zurich  .irt-halten.     Zurich,  1846. 

HUGGER  uvi>  STKIILK.  Vrrhiiltnisse  der  Zahl  nach  der  Idee  der  Pestalozzi'- 
schen  Methode.  Erster  Thcil,  wolcherdas  Kopfrechnen  enthiilt.  Gmund,  1815. 

—  Roman,  Theoretisrh  i>r;iktische  Sprachlehre  fur  Elementarschulen  nach  d. 
Geiste  der  Pestalozzi'schen  Methode.     Ulm,  181C. 

HUOOER.     Die  Elementarschule  nach  Pestalozzi's  Methode.     Ulm,  1829. 

—  C.  P.     Rede-  und  Denkuebungen  fur  Kinder.     Nach  der  Pestalozzi'schen 
Methode.     Ulm,  1834. 

Is  HI. IN,  F.     Pestalozzi  als  Forderer  der  Leibesuebungen.     Basel,  1858. 

ITH,  Jon.     Amtl.  Bericht  ueber  die  Pestnlozzi'sche  Anstalt.     Bern,  1802. 

JoH\N*8EX,  FR.  Kritik  der  Pestalozzi'schen  Erziehungs-  und  Unterrichts- 
methode. Jena  und  Leipzig,  1804. 

JI-I.LI KX.  M.  A.  Preds  sur  1'institut  d'Yverdon  en  Suisse,  organise  et  diri«r& 
par  M.  Pestalozzi.  Milan,  1812. 

Esprit  de  la  methode  d'6ducation  de  Pestalozzi.    2  Tomes.  Milan,  1^12. 

Expose  de  la  methode  d'education  de  Pestalozzi.     Paris,  1842. 

KALISCH      s.  Diesterweg. 

KAUFMANN,  F.  Nachricht  von  einer  Pestalozzi'schen  Probeschule.  Luzern, 
1806. 

KEIIR,  C.  J.  H.  Pestalozzi.  Rede  am  50  jahrigen  Todestage  Pestalozzi's 
<'•  Piidagogische  Blatter,"  1877,  No.  2). 

(KELLER,  LEONH.)  Auch  ein  Wort  aus  der  Padagogik  von  einem  Nicht- 
pestalozzianer.  Zurich,  1831. 

KELLNER,  L.  Pestalozzistudien.  (In  der  " Rkeinisch-Westfdlischen  Schul- 
zdtung.")  Aachen,  1878. 


PESTALOZZIAN  LITERATURE.  177 

KNIEWEL,  TH.  FR.  Der  Kuntsgeist  im  Kampfe  mit  dem  Zeitgeist,  oder 
lVst;ilt>/./.i  mid  st-ine  Wildersacher.  Berlin,  1818. 

KOKKI:SI>ONDENZBLATT  des  Archivs  der  Schweizerischen  permanenten  Schul- 
•Ilung  in  Zurich.  Jalirg.  1878  und  1879  ("  Pestalozzi- BUitttr"). 

KORTUM,  DR.  F.  Rueckblick  auf  Pestalozzi,  nebst  etlichen  ungedruc-kten 
Blatteni  desselbcn.  Heidelberg,  1846. 

KKAMEU,  DR.  G.    A.  II.  Franke.    J.J.Rousseau.     Pestalozzi.    Berlin,  1854. 

Karl  Ritter,  ein  Lebensbild.     Halle,  1864. 

KRAUS,  JOHN.     Letters  on  Pe.stalozzi.     1867. 

KRITIK  aller  Untersuchung  dor  Pestalozzi'schen  Methode.  Erstes  Biindchen. 
Frankfurt  und  Leipzig,  1811. 

KROGER,  DR.     Mittheilungen  ueber  Pestalozzi,  etc.     Hamburg,  1846. 

KRUSI,  H.  Rede  beini  luiuslichen  Gottesdienst,  gehalten  in  der  Pestalozzi'- 
schen Erziehungsanstalt.  Iferten,  1816. 

Erinnerungen  a.  meinera  padagogischen  Leben.     Stuttg.,  1840. 

Meiue  Be^trebmmrn  und  Erfahrungen  im  Gebiete  der  Volkserziehung. 

I.  Theil.  Gais,  1842.  II.  Theil? 

KRUSI,  H.  Vaterlehren  in  sittlichen  Wortdeutungen.  Ein  Vermachtniss 
von  Vater  Pestalozzi  an  seine  Zoglinge.  Trogen,  1829. 

Hinterlassene  Gedichte,  nebst  dessen  Nekrolog.     Heiden,  1845. 

jim.,  Poetische  Gabe  auf  Pestalozzi'shundertsten  Geburtstag.   Z'ch,  1846. 

Pestalozzi :  His  life,  work,  and  influence.  "With  portraits  and  illustra- 
tions. New  York,  1875. 

KRUSI  UND  TOBLER.  Beitrage  zu  den  Mitteln  dor  Volkserziehung  im  Geiste 
der  Menschenbildung.  I. — IV.  Jahrgang.  Trogen  und  Zurich,  1832-35. 

LADOMUS.  Zeichnungslehre  nach  Pestalozzi'schen  Grundsiitzcn.  Heft  1. 
Leipzig,  1805. 

Pestalozzi's  Anschaungslehre  der  Zahlcnverhiiltnisse.    Heidelberg,  1807. 

Pestalozzi's  Grundidee  der  Erziehung  und  Methode.     Heidelberg,  1813. 

LANGK.     Krinnerungen  aus  meinem  Schulleben.     Potsdam,  1855. 

LANGE,  W.     Froebel's  Letter  on  Pestalozziauism.     1809. 

LEDDERHOSE.     s.  Stern 

LEHMANN.     Pestalozzi;    Hauptmomente  seiner  Methode.    KCnigsberg,  1810. 

s.  Padagogische  Bilder. 

LEITCH,  J.  Henry  Pestalozzi.  Practical  Educationists  and  their  Systems  of 
Teaching,  p.  52-120.  Glasgow,  1876. 

LETTERS  on  early  education.  Translated  from  the  German  manuscript. 
With  a  Memoir  of  Pestalozzi.  London,  1850. 

LIEDKH,  gesainmelt  zum  Gebrauche  und  nach  dem  Beduerfnisse  der  Anstalt 
zu  Iferten,  1811. 

LUA,  A.  L.     Lieder  zum  Pestalozzifeste  am  12  Januar,  1845.     Berlin,  1845. 

LUBKER.     Rede  bet  der  Sakulargeburtsfeier  Pestalozzi's.    Schleswig,  1846. 

LUOER,  FR.     Heiurich  Pestalozzi.     Hamburg,  1846. 

MACLURE,  W.  Letter  on  Pestalozzi,  1806.  Barnard's  Journal 'of  Educa- 
tion, Hartford,  1881. 

MANZONI,  R.  L'istruzione  del  popolo.  Brevi  osservazioni  sul  sistema  Pesta- 
.lozziano.  Bellinzona. 

MARGGRAF,  H.,  Schiller,  Lessing,  Pestalozzi.     Prologe.     Leipzig,  1861. 

MASSMANN,  II.  F.     Ernstes  u.  Heiteres  z.  Pestalozzifeste.     Berl.,  1846. 

MAYO,  C.     Pestalozzi  and  his  principles.     London,  1825.    Third  edition,  1873. 

Pestalozzi  and  other  Papers.     London  :  1836. 

MERKUR,  der  deutsche  (Artikel  iiber  Prstalozzi  von  Wieland).     1801. 

MEYER,  JER.  Wic  Herr  Jos.  Schmid  die  Pestalozzi'sche  Anstalt  leitet. 
:Stuttgart,  1822. 


178  :  .U).:>:IAN  LITERATURE. 

MEYER,  JER.  Aux  amis  do  Pestalozzi.  R^ponse  aux  injures  de  Josef  Sclimid. 
Paris,  1823. 

MEYER,  J.  F.  E.  Pestalozzi  als  Mensch,  Staatsbuerger  und  Erzicher  niit 
srinen  figeiien  Worten  geschildert.  Eutin,  1850. 

MKZOER,  G.  C.    Zur  Erinnerung  an  Herder  und  Pestalozzi.    Augsburg,  1854. 

MICHAELIS,  G.  F.  Pestalozzi's  Elementarunterricht  umfassend  dargestellt 
und  crlautert.  Le'pzig,  1804 

MONNICH,  W.  B.  J.  H  Pestalozzi  nach  ihm  selbst  und  Andern  geschildert 
(in  den  "  Zeitgenossen."  Leipzig,  1831 ). 

Jugend-  und  Bildungsgeschichte  merkwuerdiger  Miinner  und  Frauen. 

Nurnberg,  1841  (Bd.  7,  S.  180-226). 

—  —  Pestalozzi's  Idee   der  Menschenbildung  in   ihrer   Entwicklung  und 
Bedeutung.     Nurnberg,  1845. 

MORIKOFER,  J.  C.  Heinrich  Pestalozzi  und  Anna  Schulthess  (im  "Ziircher 
Taschenbuch,"  von  1859).  Zurich,  1859. 

Die  Schweizerische  Literatur  des  18  Jahrh.     Leipzig,  1861. 

MONNARD,  CH.  Notice  sur  Pestalozzi  (d.  la  "Revue  encyclopedique  de  Paris." 
Band  36,  S.  295-305).  1827. 

Histoire  de  la  Suisse  (Fortsttzung  von  Joh.  v.  Mutter). 

MORF,  H.     Zur  Biographic  Pestalozzi's.     Winterthur,  1868  ff. 

Vor  100  Jahren.     Winterthur,  1867. 

Pestalozzi  in  Spanien.     Winterthur,  1876. 

1st  Volksbildung  wirklich  Volksbefreiung  ?  In:  "  Die  deutsche  Schule/" 

herausgegeben  von  Nostiz.  Ereter  Jahrgang,  1875.  Heft  I,  III-V.  Neuwied. 
uud  Leipzig. 

Votum  in  der  Kindergartenfrage.     Uster,  1876. 

MULLER,  F.  J.  Blatter  fur  Nat  ion  albildung  und  Privaterziehung.  Beytrage- 
zur  Berichtigung  des  Urtheils  ueber  Pestalozzi,  seine  Methode  uud  sein  Institut. 
Passau,  1804. 

—  W.  Ce.   Erfahrungen  ueber  Pestalozzi's  Lehrmethode  ;  eine  Vorlesung  im 
Bremischen  Museum.  Jetzt  auf  besondere  VeranlavSsung  erweitert  Bremen,  1 804. 

Flug  von  der  Nordsee  zum  Montblank  (Bd.  I,  S.  275^  iibrr  Pes'alozzi). 

Altona,  1821. 

MUNCH,  MATTH.  KORN.  Biographien  ausgezeichneter  um  die  Meuschheit 
verdienter  Padagogen.  Augsburg,  1845. 

MUSEEUM.     Pestalozzi  and  Fellenberg.     London  :  1862. 

NAGBLI,  H.  G.  Erklarung  an  Hottinger  als  Anklager  der  Freundc  Pesta- 
lozzi's. Zurich,  1813. 

Die  Pestalozzi'sche  Geaangbildungslehre  nach  Pfeiffer's  Erfindung 

kunstwissenschaftlich  dargestellt.  Zurich. 

Padagogische  Rede  (enthaltend  eine  Char  alter  istik  Ptstahzzis,  etc.). 

Zurich,  1830. 

NAQELI,  H.  G.  Padagogisches  Memorial  der  Verfassungskomniissio;i  des 
Kantons  Zurich  eingereicht.  Zurich,  1831. 

NEDMAXN,  C.  II.  Ueber  die  jetzt  eingeleitete  Verbesserung  des  Elementar- 
Schulwesens  in  der  Preussischen  Monarchic.  Potsdam,  1811. 

NICOLOVIUS,  D.  A.     Denkschrift  auf  G.  H.  L.  Nicolovius.     Bonn,  1841. 

NIEDERER,  DR.  J.  Briefe  von  1797-1803  an  seinen  Freund  Tobler.  Genf,  1845. 

—  —  Erklarung   ueber  die  Rezension   der   Pestalozzi'schcu   Methode   (im 
Intelligenzbfatt  drr  "  Jena'isch?n  AH(/.  Literaturzeituny."     AV.  71).     1S04 

Prospekt  des  Pestalo/zi'schen  Instituts  zii  Mucncheubuclisce,  in  Ver- 

bindung  mit  den  Erziehungsanlagen  zu  Hofwyl,  1805. 

AnkuendigungeinerWochcnschriftftir  Menschenbildung.  Lausanne,!  806. 

Das  Pesralozzi'sclie  Institut  an  das  Publikum.  Mit  eiiu-in  Briefe- 

Pestalozzi's  als  Vorrede.  Iferten,  1811. 


PESTALOZZIAN  LITERATURE.  179 

NIEDERER.  Pestalozzi's  Erziehungsunternehmung  im  Verhiiltniss  zur  Zeifr 
kultur.  2  Bde.  Stuttgart,  1812,  1813. 

—  Schliessliehe  Rechtfertiguug  des  Pestalozzi'schen  Instituts  gegen   seine 
Verliimnder.     Iferten,  1813. 

J.-sus  Christus  der  Gesetzgeber.     1816. 

—  Pestalozzi'sche  Blatter  fur  Menschen-  und  Volksbildung.     1  Bd.,  4  Hefte 
u.  2  Bd.,  1  u.  2  Heft.  Aachen  1828-29. 

—  Rosette,  Dramatische  Jugendspiele  fur  das  weibliche  Geschlecht.  Aarau,  1 828. 
Blicke  in  das  Wesen  der  weiblichen  Erziehung.     Berlin,  1828. 

—  und  PESTALOZZI.    Wochensohrift   fur  Menschen bildung    herausgegeben 
\uu  IK-h.  Pestalozzi  uud  seinen  Freunden.     4  Bde.     Aarau,  1807-1811. 

NIEMEYER,  A.  II.   Ueber  Pestalozzi's  Grundsatze  und  Metlioden.  Halle,  1810. 

XOACK.     Heinrich  Pestalozzi.     Leipzig,  1861. 

NODXAGKL,  A.  Pestalozzi.  In:  "Die  Manner  des  Vo'kes,"  dargesteilt  von 
Freunden  des  Volks.  Herausgegeben  von  Ed.  Duller.  1  Bd.  Frankfurt 
a/M.,  1847.  S.  103-144. 

NOTICE  sur  1'ecole  du  premier  degre,  fondee  et  dirigee  par  A.  Boniface, 
disciple  de  Pestalozzi.  Paris,  1823. 

OPPEL,  C.  J.  H.  Pestalozzi's  Leben,  Wollen,  und  Wirken.  Frankfurt 
a/M.,  1*45. 

PADAGOGISCHE  BILDER,  von  Jul.  Lehmann.  Mit  Vonvort  von  Zoller. 
Bern,  18-J6. 

PALMER,  CHRN.,  Dinter  und  Pestalozzi.  "  Schulblatt  fur  die  Provinz 
Brandenburg,"  1855.  S.  162-210. 

—  Evangelische  Padagogik.     Stuttgart,  1 853. 

—  Artikel  "  Pestalozzi "  in  Schmid's  padagogischer  Encyclopadie. 
PAROZ.     Pestalozzi,  sa  vie,  sa  m6thode,  etc.     Bern,  1857. 

—  Histoire  universelle  de  la  p&dagogie.     Paris,  1868. 

PASSAVANT,  E.  W.  Darstellung  und  Pruefung  der  Pestalozzi'schen  Methode 
nach  Beobachtungen  in  Burgdorf.  Lemgo,  1804. 

PAYNE,  JOSEPH.     Pestalozzi  and  his  System.     London,  1868. 

PESTALOZZI,  HEINRICH.  Sein  Leben  und  Wirken  einfach  und  getren  erziihlt 
fur  das  Volk.  Herausgegeben  von  der  zuerch.  Schulsynode  (verf.  von  Kaspar 
Biir).  Zurich,  1846. 

nach  seinem  Gemueth,  Streben  und  Schicksalen,  ans  dem  Franzosi- 

schen  uebersetzt.     Aarau,  1844.      (  Uebersetzung  von  de  Guimps,  Notice.) 

der  Revolutioniir,  s.  Bauer. 

Ilch.  Pestalozzi's  unedirte  Briefe  und  letzte  Schicksale.     Bern,  1834. 

PESTALOZZI'S  Idee  <l»-r  Meoschenbildnog,  s.  Mtinnich. 

—  Lehrsystem  \visscnschaftlich  dargestellt  (in  der  "  Jena' ischen  AUg.  Litera- 
t*r*eit**ff,"  £.  Jahr(/n»g,  1804,  1  und  2  Band  Nr.  59  ff.,  98^.). 

—  Methode.     Kur/.e  und  fasslii-he  Darstellung  derselben.     Stuttgart,  1810. 
PERTAI.OZZI.     Ueber  das   Eigenthucmliche   der   Pestalozzi'schen    Methode. 

Tuebingen,  1810. 

In :  Bilduissc  und  Lclicnslx-schreilmng-cn  der  beruehmtesten  und  verdienst- 
vollstrn  Piida.u-o.u'en  und  Sehuhniinncr  iiltercr  und  neuerer  Zeit.  Quedliuburg 
u.  Leipzig.  Liefg.  1,  1833. 

PESTAI.OZZI'S  neue  Methode,  die  alten  Sprachen  zu  lehren.  Von  einem 
Mitarbeiter  in  ihn-n  (jrundzucgen  dargestellt.  Karlsruhe,  18lJ*. 

PESTALOZZI  und  sdnc  Bcdeutung  fur  unsere  Zeit.  In:  "  Die  Gegen  wart.'* 
3  Bd.  Leipzig,  1849.  S.  331-M42. 

—  In:    Schulkalender  aus  Franken  fur  1861.     1  Jahrg.  Wuerzburg. 

—  H.     Neujahrsblatt  des  zuerch      Wnisenhauses.     1847. 
PESTALOZZI'S  Biographic  im  Pestalozzi  Kalender  auf  das  Jahr,  1847.  Dresden.. 


IbO 

PE8TALOzzi-Ai.m:M.  Xuin  B.-su-n  hilfsbeduerftiger  Lehrerwaisen  im  Kgr. 
Surhsm.  ln-rans;;.  vuu  K.  Fisrlier.  Dresden,  1852. 

I'l  -I    ;  !..»// |  \\  A,    S.    Srhridl«T 

PEST.VI. <»//.i  FKIKK  in  lla-el,  s.  Vortrage. 

-  in  Basel.     Gedicht  von  einem  soiner  Schuelcr.     Mittlu-ilungen  Nr.  5, 
vom  13  Januar.  1846. 

in  Bran<li':ilmr_r.     1846. 

in  HernbtTg.     1846. 

in  Divsik-n.     Leipzig,  1846- 

in  Krfurt,  s.  Thilo. 

—  -  in  Hamburg.      1846. 

in  Hildburghausen,  8.  Heine. 

in  Kiel.      1846. 

in  Konigsberg.     1846. 

in  Plauen.     1846. 

in  St.  Gallen.     1846. 

Ein  Wort  an  die  Schullehrer  des  evangelischen  Theila  des  Kantons 

St.  Gallen  vom  evangel.  Erziehungsrath,  auf  den  12  Janoar,  1846. 

in  Wadensweil.     1846,  s.  J.  Heer. 

in  Wt-infelden,  9.  Bornh;i 

in  Win  tort  hur,  s.  Buechi,  Gamper,  Corrodi  (W.). 

Lieder  zur  hnndiTtjahriiri'ii  G^iichtnisafeicr.     1846 

Pestalozzi  in  Unterwalden  (Gedicht). 

in  Xnrirli,  -.  II..rtini:«-r. 

PBSTALO/ZITAO,  die  F. •;  n  vor  deutechen  Franen.    Vortrage  una 

Reden  xur  Frauenfrirr  seiin  >  1(K)  jahrigen  Geburtetags.     Berlin,  1846. 
PESTALOZZI  und  der  Pestalozzi- Verein.     Aurich,  1846. 

—  in   Leipzig.     Festrede.     In  den  "Leipziger  Bluttern  fur  Padagogik." 
3  Il.-ft.     Leipzig,  1870. 

—  in  Spanien,  s.  Morf. 

—  Heinrich,  Dramatische  Vorstellung  zum  50  jahrigen  Jubilanm  des  Land- 
tochter  Inatitntes  in  Zurich.     Zurich,  1861. 

PBSTALOZZI-STIFTDNO  in  der  deutschen  Schweiz.    Statntenentwurf.     1845. 

—  in  Olsberg.     Berichte,  1853,  ff. 

fur  Knaben  bei  Schlieren.    Berichte,  1869,  ff. 

die  deutsche.     Rechenschaftsberichte,  1847,  ff. 

PETIT AIN,  Precis  de  la  nouvelle  methode  de  Pestalozzi.    Paris,  1804. 

PLAMANN,  J.  E.  Einzige  Grundregel  der  Unterrichtskunst,  nach  Pestalozzi's 
Methode  angewandt  in  der  Naturgeschichte,  Geographie  und  Sprache.  Halle, 
1805. 

PLAMANN ,  J.  E.  Beitrage  zum  Verstandniss  der  Pestalozzi'schen  Methode. 
Leipzig,  1 8' 2. 

POMPEK,  Etudes  sur  la  vie  et  les  travaux  de  Pestalozzi.    Paiis,  1850,  1878. 

PKKUSSISCHES  VOLKSSCHULWESEN,  s.  Thilo. 

PROPST,  JOSEF.  Die  wichtigeren  padagogischen  Grundsatze  von  Pestalozzi. 
Lii-stal,  1846. 

QUICK,  R.  H.    Pestalozzi— in  Educational  Reformers.    London,  1868. 

RAMSAUER,  J.     Zeichnungslehre.     Stuttgart  u.  Tuebingen,  1821. 

In  :  Diesterweg,  das  padagogische  Dentachland.     Berlin,  1835. 

Kurze  Skizzo  meines  phdagog.  Lebens.  Mit  besond.  Beruecksichti- 

gung  Pestalozzi's  u.  seiner  Anstalten.  Oldenb.,  1838. 

Bu"h  der  Muetter.  Die  Liebe  in  Erziehung  nnd  Unterricht.  Zum 

Amdenken  Pestalozzi'i.  Elberfeld  und  Meurs,  1846.  Mit  27  Figurentafeln. 


I.ITKKATCRE.  181 

RAMSAUEK  und  ZAHX.     iVstalo/.xi'schc  Blatter.     Elberfeld  u.  Meuts,  1846. 
K^i'i'oitT  sur  I'lnstitut  do  M.  Pestalozzi  a  Yverdun.     Fribourg,  1810  (par  le 
tiitii'd;  deutsch  s.  liencht). 

HALMKK,  K.  v.     Gesdiichu-  tier  Piidagogik.     II.  Thl.     Stuttgart,  1857. 
KKNDSCHMIDT.     Krtk-  -fhalten  am  Pestalo/zifeste  zu  Breslau,  1846. 
KIKI>KI.,  KAICL.     Wie  Gertrud  ihre  Kinder  lehrt.     Wien,  1877. 
UIKI..     \Viierdigung  tier  IY>talo/./i'schen  Methode,  wie  sie  Niederer  darstellt. 
Got  ha,  1808. 

HITTER,  K.  Schreibcn  eines  Reisenden  ueber  P.  und  seine  Lehrart.  In: 
(iiiiMinitlis  '  Ni-uu  Uibliothek  fur  Pad  "  1808,  I,  S.  112  bis  130  u.  in  •  Zerren- 
ner,  "  N.  Sdmlfrt-und,"  15  Bdch.  S.  1-50. 

ROKIIH':  v  \\  DKK  AA,  C.  P.  E.  Pestalozzi's  leven  en  lotgevalen.  Arnheim. 
1846.  Mir  Bild. 

K<  '«  I:\KKANZ.  K.     Pestalozzi.    Rede  zur  Festfeier  seines  1  00  jiihr     Geburt- 

Kiinigsberg,  1846. 
i  (;AARD.   DR.   E.     Skole  Reformatoren  J.   H.   Pestalo/zi    Hundred-  Aars 

i  Dniiinark.     Kjiibnhavn,  1846. 
SALLWL-RK,  T.  v.     Pestalozzi's  Vermiichtniss.     In:  "Jahrbuch  des  Vereina 
fur  wissenschaftliche  Piidagogik."    6  Jahrgang.    Ilerausgegeben  von  T.  Ziller. 
1874.     S.  1-15. 


(SciiEiDLER.)     Pcstalozziana.     A  us  dem  Jannarheft  der  "  Minerva."    1846. 
SCHKNKEL,  DR.  DAN.    Joh.  H«  inrirh  Pestalozzi.     Heidelberg,  1863, 
SCIIEDENSTDHL,  J.  P.    Pestalozzi  Verhaltniss  /.urn  inodcmen  Leben  und  zur 

nuxlt-rnen  Wisscnscliaft.    Kin  Vortrag  im  Lehrerverein  zu  Nuernberg.    Ansbach. 

1846. 

S.  IILEOEL,  J.  J.  Droi  Schulmanner  der  Ostschweiz.  Lebensbild  von  J.  K. 
St.  •imnueller  und  biographische  Skizzen  ueber  H.  Kruesi  und  J.  J.  Wehrli. 
Zurirh,  1879. 

Sen  MID,  K.  A.    Padagog.  Encyklopiidie,  s.  Palmer. 

—  JOSEPH,    die  Elemente    der    Form    und    Grosse  nach  Pestalozzischen 
Grundsutzen  bearboitet-     2  Thle.     Bern,  1809. 

-  die  Elemente    des    Zeichnens    nach    Pestalozzi'schen    Grun<l-at/.«  u 
brurU-itrt.     Bern,  18U9. 

--  die  Elemente  der  Zahl  als  Fundament  der  Algebra,  etc.     Heid'g,  1810. 
--  Rrfahrangen  und  Ansichten  ueber  Erziehung,  Institute  uud  Schulen. 
Hi-i-h-llicri:,  1810. 

--  Rede  gehalten  am  74.    Geburtstag  P.'B.    Zurich,  1818. 
--  Wahrh.-it  it.  Irrthnm  in  P.'s  Lebensschicksalen.     Iferten,  1822. 
--  Fallenbi-r-s  Kla-f  L:«--'-!I  P«-st:ili)/./i.     Karlsruhe,  1827. 

--  Kinladung  /ur  Subskription  auf  Pestalozzi's  Schriften,  welche  in  dre. 
Sprachcn  ]>ul>li/.irt  werden  soll«-ii. 

--  Prstal«i/./i  iiml  s.-in  N.-uhuf.     Xurich,  1847. 

Scii\iii>r,  ]•].    Schulf  ilcr  I'.r/i.'liuii-  in  l.in^raphischcn  Umrissen.  Berlin,  1846. 

—  FKRD.     Hcinrich  l'«->tal(»//i.     Berlin,  H.  Kastuer  (Jurjendschrifi}. 

—  J.    F.     IV.-talo/./i's    (  ;  r,",<>»  -iili-hre   als   Fundament    der   Arithnietik    uml 
Geometric  betrachtt-t.     Halle,  1805. 

—  Die   K.     Gcschichti-  d«-r  Piidagogik;  2  Aufl.    Ilerausgegeben  von  Dr.  W. 
Lange.     Kothen,  1867. 

SCHNEIDER,  K.     Rousseau  und  Pestaiozzi.     BroniLeiir.  1866.     2  Aufl.,  1873. 
SCHNELL.     Bexirksstatthalter  in    Burgdorf,   an    seinen    Freund    K.    ueber 
Pc-tali.//i's  Lihranstalt.     Benj,  1800. 

—  F.     AHS  dfin  Leben  eines  preus.sisch.cn  Schulmanns  der  Pestalozzi'schen 
Scbnle.     Leipzig,  1863. 

SOHORV,  A.  John.  Heinridi  IN-stal-././i.  In:  "  Gesrhiehte  der  Piidagogik 
in  \'.  ..-l.ildiTii  uml  BiMt-ru."  Leipzig,  1873.  (7  AuJL,  1879.)  S.  197-221. 


182  PESTALOZZIAN  LITERATURE. 

SCHORNSTEIN,  R.    Pestalozzi's  Mission  a.  d.  Muetter.  Elberf.,  1856. 

SCHULLEHRER,  der,  des  19  Jahrhunderts.  2  Bd.  2  Aufl.  Stuttgart,  1839. 
Enthalt  u.  A.:  Die  Pestalozzi 'sche  Familie.  Geschichte  des  Anschauugs- 
unterrichts.  I.  Pestalozzi. 

SCHULTHESS,  J.  Genauere  Finsidht  der  neuesten  Versuche  einer  bessera 
Erziehung  und  Bildung  der  Jugend.  Zurich,  1810.  (In  Band  IV  von: 
Schidthesa,  Beitrage  zur  Jtenntniss  und  Forderung  des  Kirchen-  u.  Schulwesens  in 
tier  Schweiz.  S.  65.) 

SCHWARZ,  F.  H.  E.  Pestalozzi's  Methode  und  ihre  Anwendung  in  Volks- 
schulen.  Bremen,  1803. 

SETFFARTH,  L.  W.    Pestalozzi's  siimmtliche  Werke,  gesichtet,  vervoilsi.m- 
digt  und   mit    erlauternden    Einleitungen    versehen.     16    Bde.   und  2 
Nachtrage.     Brandenburg,  1 869  ff. 

Pestalozzi  nach  seinem  Leben  und  aus  seinen  Werken  dargestellt. 

6  Aufl.     Leipzig,  1876. 

—  —  Padagogische  Reisebriefe  (im  " Preussischen  Schulblatt ").  Berlin, 
1871/72. 

SIGRIST,  H.  Briefe  an  Schmid  uebes  seine  Erfahrungen  und  Ansichten. 
Luzern,  1811. 

SNETHLAGE.     Bemerknngen  ueber  P.'s  Lehrmethode.    Berlin,  1803. 

SOTADX.     Pestalozzi,  seine  Lehrart  u.  seine  Anstalten.     Leipzig,  1803. 

STAEL,  Madame  de,  de  I'AUemagne. 

STEINMULLER,  J.  R.  Bemerkungen  gegen  Pestalozzi's  Unterrichtsmethode 
Zurich,  1803. 

STKRX,  nach  seinem  Leben  und  Wirken  geschildert  von  K.  F.  R.  Ledderhose. 
Heidelberg,  1877. 

STOLZENBDRO,  W.  A.  H.  Geschichte  des  Bunzlauer  Waisenhauses.  Breslau, 
1854. 

STROM.  Precis  succinct  de  la  melhode  d'instruire  de  Pestalozzi.  Kopen- 
hagen,  1805. 

StfssKiND,  F.  G.    Ueber  die  P.'sche  Lehrmethode.     Stuttg.,  1809. 

THAULOW,  DR.  G.  Rede  bei  der  Sakular-  und  Geburtstagsfeier  Pestalozzi's. 
Kiel,  1846. 

THILO,  W.  Reden  und  Gesange  bei  Pestalozzi's  Sakulargeburtsfeier  im  kgl. 
Seminar  zu  Erfurt.  Berlin,  1806. 

Prenssisches  Volksschulwesen  nach  Geschichte  u.  Statistik.  Gotha, 

1867.  (  Vgl.  dagegen  "  Weinische  Blatter,"  1868  u.  69.) 

DD  THON,  ADELE.     Notice  sur  Pestalozzi.     Genf,  1827. 

TILLEARD,  J.     Life  and  Educational  System  of  Pestalozzi.    London,  1855. 

TILLICH,  E.  Analyse  der  Pestalozzi'schen  Sehrift:  "Wie  Gertrnd  ihre 
Kinder  lehrt,"  und  ueber  den  eijienthuc-mlichen  Charakter  der  Pestalozzi'schen 
Lehrart.  In:  Beitrage  zur  Erziehungskunst  von  Weiss  u.  Tillich.  2  Bde. 
Leipzig,  1803  und  1806. 

Pestalozzi's  Rechenmethode  und  Schmid's  Elemente  der  Zahl.  Stutt- 
gart, 1810. 

TORLITZ,  J.  H.  A.  Reise  in  der  Schweiz.  Veranlastt  durch  Pestalozzi  u. 
•dessen  Lehranstalt.  Kopenhagen  u.  Leipzig,  1807. 

TRAPP,  E.  CHR.  Ueber  Pestalozzi  in  Briefeu  an  Biester.  In :  "  Neue 
Berlinische  Monatschrift"  Novbr.,  1804  (S.  321  bis  346),  Juni,  1805  (S.  424). 

TtfRK,  W.  vox.  Briefe  aus  Muenchenbuchsee  ueber  Pestalozzi  und  seine 
Elementarbildungsmethode.  2  Thle.  '  Leipzig,  1806. 

Ueber  zweckmassipe  Einrichtunj*  der  offentlichen  Schul-  und  Unter- 

richtsanstalten,  mit  vorzueglicher  Ruecksicht  auf  Mecklenburg.  Neu-Strelitz, 
1804. 

Nachricht  von  den  in  Oldenburg  angestellten  Versuchen  Pestalozzi'. 

«cher  Lehrart.  Oldenburg;  1806. 


PESTALOZZIAN  LITERATURE.  183 

Ti  UK,  \V.  VON.  Beitriige  zur  Keniitnias  einiger  deutscher  Elementar- 
Schuiiuistnlten.  Leipzig,  1806. 

-  Lehen  u.  Wirken  d.  Reg.-  u.  Schulraths  Tuerk.     Potsdam,  1859. 

V  \  iKKi.KHREN,  a  Kruesi. 

YEKHANDLUNGEN  der  Schweizcrischen  Gesollschaft  fur  Erziehung.     1812. 

VIM  K,  AL  Zum  Andenken  Pestalozzi's.  In  den  Verhandlungen  der 
helvetischen  Gesellschaft  1827  (6*.  20-41). 

VORTRAGE  an  der  Pestalozzifeier  in  Basel  von  Heussler,  Lehmann,  etc. 
B;wl,  1846. 

VULLIKMIN,  L.     Souvenirs.     Lausanne,  1872. 

WANDKR,  K.  FR.  W.  Ueber  P.'s  Brfolgung  der  Lehre  Jesu.  In  :  "Schlesische 
Provinzialbliitter."  Bd.  123  (1846  Februarheft). 

WEISS,  DR.  CH.  Vorschalg  zu  einem  Denkmal  Pesttilozzi's.  Merseburg,  1846. 

W  i  EL  AND,  s.  Merkur. 

WIESINGER,  J.  Pestalozzi's  Antheil  an  der  Erneuerung  des  deutschen 
Volkes.  Kissingen,  1873. 

WITTI:,  KARL.  Bericht  an  S.  Majestat  von  Preussen  ueber  das  Pestalozzi'- 
sche  Institut  in  Burgdorf,  Leipzig,  1805. 

WOCHENSCHRIFT,  s.  Niederer. 

WOODBIDGE,  W.  C.    Pestalozzi — Life  and  Principles.     Boston,  1837. 

ZAHN,  Schulchronik,  Nr.  1.     1846. 

ZEHNDER,  Jos.  Geb.  Stadlin,  Pestalozzi,  Idee  und  Macht  der  menschlichen 
Entwicklung.  Erster  Band.  Gotha,  1875. 

ZELLKR,  C.  A.  Historische  Nachricht  von  einem  Versuch  ueber  die  Anwend- 
barkcit  tie  Pestalozzi'schen  Lehrart  in  Volksschulen.  Tuebingen,  1804.  Neue 
Auflagc,  1810. 

—  ueber  Sonntagsschulen  nach  Pestalozzi'schen  Grnndsatzen.   Leipzig,  1804. 

—  historisch-kritischer  Bericht  ueber  das  Normnlinstitut  f.  d.  Landschullehrer 
d.  Kts.  Zurich  i.  Hiedtli  b  Zurich.     Winterthur,  1807. 

-  Die  Gm  milage  einer  bessern  Zukunft.  In  Briefen  an  die  Fuerstin  von 
Lippe  -DetnioM.  Zurich,  1808. 

ZEZSCHWITZ,  G.  v.     Der  Padagog  Hch.  Pestalozzi.     Erlangen,  1871. 

ZOLLNER,  J.  C.    Ideen  ueber  Nationalerziehuug.    Berlin,  1804. 

ZOLLER,  DR.  FR.     Rousseau  und  Pestalozzi.     Frankfurt  a.  M  ,  1851. 

ZSCHOKKE,  HCH.  Historische  Denkwuerdigkeiten  der  helvetischen  Staat- 
sumwiilzung.  1 804. 

Zwei  Briefe  ueber  Pestalozzi's  Leben  und  Lehre  an  einen  Mann  von 

Stande  ("his"  1805,  S.  695). 

Physiologische  Umrisse  einiger  ausgezeichneter  Schweizer  (Miszellen 

1809,  S.  333). 

Ueber  Heinrich  Pestalozzi  und  die  Ausgabe  seiner  Werke  ("  Ueber- 

zieferuny  zur  Geschichte  unserer  Zeitt  geaammdt  von  H.  Zchokke"  Jahrganq,  1807, 
5.'  359-366). 

Erinnerungen  an  H.  Pestalozzi  (In  :  "  Prometheus  fur  Licht  und  Recht," 

I  Thi     1832,  S.  245-261). 
Selbstschau.    Aarau,  1842. 

Reader : — Please  to  communicate  any  omission  in  the  foregoing  list  known 
to  you  to  Henry  Barnard,  Hartford,  Conn. 


i  a  i 

U.M//1AN     I.IH.KVi 


fount  KM  i»n*  "f   P 
Kui  >t.  of  Zurich,  has  published  tv.o  editions  of  Leonard  and  Gertrude, 
following  tin-  text  of  the  original  cdii:  L781,  17s-'.,   17s.'),  and  1787. 

Tlio  !;;  .Mished  in  is:ji.  in  4  vols.,  and  the  second  in  18-1  ; 

l'i  Jl    KUSBUM,   <  stahlisln  d  at    Zurich  in   1879,    appointed    a 

committee  (.11  the  occasion  of  the  c<  ntennial  of  the  tirM    publication  of 

Leonard  and  G'«   trutlf,  to  i»ue  a  new  edition  of  that  work  in  t\\o  vol<.  : 

"  Liinliard  und  Gertrud,  enter  und  zirt  it,  r  Tin  il,  neu  herausyegeben  zmn 

/uil-Ausffabe  torn  ,l<ijir  17s!  :  Zurich   L881;  d 

^jegeben  ats  Fortsezn  '•„•  de» 

.  ton  der  Kommitsion  fur  das  I  -hen: 

Zurich.   16 

This  edition  was  accompanied  by  two  treaties  upon  the  "  History  and 
Composition  of  L«ntnrd  and  <>  by  Dr.  I!un/iker. 

M  \NN  (Yo:i  Friedrich)  ha>  jMihlisln-il  M  \«  r.il  of   IYst:ilo/.yi'>  best  works 
in  Meyer's  Bibliothek  padagogiker  Clasriker  (Langensal/ 
J.  If.  Pcttalozzi's  ausgewaJiUe  Werke,  mil  PcstalozzCs  Biographic;  4  vols. 
M:um'>  edition  contains  the  following  works:     Leonard  un<1  G<  rtrude  ; 
The  Evening  Hour  of  a  Hermit  ;  h'.rlnt<-tsfroin  the  N-/<  in  itzcrbbtlt  ;  &,j,,»i  /•// 
at  Stan:  ;  II'»r  Gertrude  ttache*  her  Cfii'<h-,n  .  ••  icncts  con- 

cerning the  Idea  of  Elementary  Education  ;  Address  delivered  at  Lenzbourg 
in  1809;  PestaloxCs  Addresses  at  hit  home  in  1808,  1809,  1810,  1811,  1812,  and 
1818;  The  Swan-Song.  Mann  follows  the  text  of  the  original  editions. 

VFFAKTH(L.   V.  •  tor  and  pastor  of  Liu  ken\\  aide,  published 

from  1869-1878,  a  cheap  edition  of  Pestalozzi's  work>,  the  only  com; 
edition  which  has  U-en  edited  since  that  of  Cotta,  under  the  title: 

Pestalozzfs  sammtlichc  Werke,  getichtet,  vert>oU*t<ii<<]i<jt  >n«i  ///// 
den  Einleitungen  versehen,  ton  L.  W.  Seyffarth,  Rector  uinl  }li'f.«j>r« 
zn  I.nrk,  niralde. 

Tin's  edition  was  published  at  Brandenburg  in  itzteOI  r.  -ular  voli. 
and   two  stipplementary,  and  contains  all  of  P«Malo/./.i's  works  which 
SeyflFartli  had  been  able  to  procure.     It  is  more  nearly  complete  than  Cot- 
ta's,  and  the  text  is  taken  from  that  of  tl  1  nlitions  except  that  of 

Leonard  and  Oertrude,  in  which  he  is  believed  to  have  followed  the  text 
of  the  first  four  volumes  of  Cotta's  edition,  which  became  in  1 
the  tiiM  four  parts  of  the  romance,  and  under  the  headinir  of  part  tl 
ha>  added  what  appeared  as  the  fourth  part  in  1787,  and  which  was  omit- 
ted in  Cotta's  edition. 

D.  ('.  II'  ath  &  Co.,  Boston,  published  in  1885,  "Leonard  . 
:.d  abridged  by  Kva  Channinir."     pp.  1S1,  lUni". 

in  a  thin  volume  of  KM;  es  a  summary 

of  P  Teila^oiry  in  extracts  fi-fin  liis  principal  writings.     Pul» 

li-h«  d  at  I'ernburi:  in  1882.     J.  Uaemei-- 

The  Milton  Bradley  Company,  Sprinirtield,  ^lass.,  issued,  in  1887: 

-  PEDAGOGY  IN  ins  OWN  WMKI>S;  with  a  Summary  of  his 
by   American.  K:iLrli-h,  <Jcrinan,  and   Frem-h    Kduca- 

t«T-.  and  a  1M  of  400*tn-ati-(  s  devot.  <1  to  P.-talo/vi  and  PestaloZZianUm, 
and  an  Ind-  \  of  K'»  jiaires  to  the  s:.:  .  liarnard's  Memoir<  of  V< 

lo//i.  hi-  .'-.  -.  and  Disciples.      Kdited  by  Henry  Barnard.     228pp. 

The  ab.-ve  volume  of  228  panes,  equivalent  to  .  1C  t  pagH  in  smaller  type 
and  ;  •  .-ntains  n.  italozzi'l  publications  in  hi-  own  words 

•  •.sn  be  found  in  all  the  different  f:  -lectinir  him.  in  the  Eng- 

lUh  laiiLMia-je.      It   .  -nmmari''^  (,f  ]\i±  pcdairo-jy  by  Bus<e,  Com- 

t.Twe-,  (Jill,  Leitch.  Mayo,(>uiek.  Wood  bridge,  and  others. 


OBJECT  TEACHING -PRINCIPLES  AND  METHODS. 

[From  the  German  of  F.  Basse,  Principal  of  the  Girls'  High  School  of  Berlin.*] 


1.  — AIMS  AND   PRINCIPLES. 

PKDAGOGICAL  authorities  have  the  most  diverse  views  upon  object- 
teaching,  both  in  regard  to  its  position  and  value  in  general,  and  to  it* 
principal  and  subsidiary  objects  in  particular.  The  reason  of  this  is,  that 
no  other  discipline  embraces  the  individuality  of  the  child  on  its  physical 
and  spiritual  sides  to  such  a  degree  as  this  does.  We  speak  of  exercise 
in  observation,  object-teaching,  practice  in  thinking,  or  practice  in  under- 
standing, practice  in  speaking  or  in  language,  just  according  as  we  are 
thinking  more  especially  of  the  sense-organs  and  observation,  the  ability 
to  think,  the  speaking  a  language.  From  the  standpoint  of  an  enlightened 
science  of  teaching,  the  averaging  of  these  various  views,  and  the  uniting 
of  these  aims,  is  a  necessity. 

Since  object-teaching  is  the  earliest  teaching,  and  that  which  begins 
before  the  child  is  old  enough  to  go  to  school  (Pestalozzi,  Froebel), 
since  it  takes  hold  of  the  child  in  the  full,  undiflerentiated  unity  of  his 
powers,  it  is  of  importance  to  presuppose  that  the  child  has  an  inborn 
individuality.  That  clumsy  view  which  considers  that  what  we  call  indi- 
viduality does  not  arise  until  it  is  produced  by  the  influence  of  time  and 
place,  persons  and  circumstances,  and,  most  of  all,  by  education  and 
instruction,  —  that  view,  I  repeat,  prevails  amongst  those  who  strive  to- 
dispiritualize  nature  everywhere,  and  especially  human  nature,  and  is 
unworthy  of  an  enlightened  science  of  teaching.  Just  as  little  as  instruc- 
tion can  form  its  empirical  conditions  —  that  is,  mental  capacity  and  organ* 
of  speech —  in  the  child,  but,  instead  of  that,  presupposes  them,  just  so 
little  can  it  dispense  with  the  logical  conditions ;  namely,  the  /,  endowed 
with  powers  of  observation,  discernment,  feeling,  and  willing,  —  what 
Genesis  calls  "  the  living  soul,"  what  Solomon  calls  "  the  breath  of  the 
divine  power." 

No  investigator  has  yet  succeeded  in  drawing  the  wonderful  boundary- 
line  between  the  spiritual  and  the  physical  in  human  nature  ;  but  if  we  are 
trying  to  establish  the  meaning  of  the  important  idea,  "  intuition,"  we  must 
keep  the  physical  and  spiritual  sides  of  our  being  apart. 

Man,  as  a  sensibly  spiritual  being,  has,  first  of  all,  a  receptivity  for 
impressions  of  that  which  is  about  him  and  goes  on  before  him.  This 
receptivity  is  called  sense.  The  activities,  capacities,  and  powers  of  the 
soul  which  come  first  into  consideration  are,  therefore,  of  a  purely  receptive 
kind.  It  is  the  decidedly  preponderant  activity  of  sense.  While  the  im- 
pressions of  the  exterior  world  are  in  the  act  of  being  appropriated  by  the 
soul,  the  first  soul-formations,  the  sensations  and  perceptions,  arise. 

*  From  Diesterweg's  Wegwcitser,  edition  of  1873. 


186  OBJECT   TEACHING.    BUSSE. 

These  are  all  matters  of  experience.  We  need  only  call  to  mind  the 
popular  expression,  "The  stupid  quarter  of  a  year,"  which  ends  with  the 
child's  first  smile,  that  beam  of  consciousness  which  is  greeted  with  infinite 
joy.  The  child  has  at  this  period  the  ordinary  vicissitudes  and  excite- 
ments of  its  nervous  life  in  pleasure  and  pain,  as  well  as  the  wonderful 
modifications  of  them  in  its  sense-organs.  It  hears  a  fondling  voice,  looks 
into  a  faithful  eye,  tastes  the  sweet  milk,  feels  the  mother's  breast,  the 
gentle  lifting  and  carrying  of  the  arms,  and  the  swinging  motion  of  the 
cradle.  These  are  the  sense-impressions,  or  sensations,  which  flow  towards 
him  daily  during  the  short  moments  of  wakefulness. 

With  admirable  wisdom,  nature  has  so  regulated  the  organism  of  the 
child  that  it  passes  these  first  days  and  weeks  in  the  arms  of  sleep ;  for 
could  it  immediately,  like  the  young  lambkin  or  colt,  use  its  limbs,  such  an 
immeasurable,  incomprehensible  world  of  impressions  would  stream  in 
upon  its  inner  being,  that  self-consciousness,  unable  to  master  them,  would 
be  forever  overcome  and  unable  to  develop  itself.  Do  not  we  teachers 
have  the  corresponding  experience  daily  in  the  dissipated  and  distracted 
youth  of  our  great  cities?  Do  we  not  have  it  hourly  when,  in  the  presen- 
tation of  a  new  subject,  we  give  too  much  at  once,  and  overstep  the  limits 
which  lie  in  the  power  of  self-consciousness  ? 

But  the  child  has  not  merely  sense-impressions  or  sensations,  which  bear 
the  token  of  individuality ;  it  has  also  sense-intuitions,  that  is,  a  multi- 
plicity of  sensations  which  are  united  together  into  a  unit  by  the  syn- 
thesis of  the  interior  sense,  (named  by  Kant  "  the  table  of  the  inner  sense," 
of  which  the  five  senses  are  only  radiations.) 

The  beast  also  shares  in  both  the  sense-impressions  and  the  sense-intui- 
tions, and  indeed,  as  we  must  confess,  possesses  these  to  a  higher  degree 
than  does  man,  since  it  belongs  entirely  to  the  world  of  sense,  and  is 
•endowed  with  sharper  organs  of  sense,  so  that  it  may  exist  in  that  world. 

When,  for  instance,  the  ape  is  busy  with  an  apple,  he  has,  in  the  first 
place,  the  sense-impression  of  sight,  by  means  of  his  eye ;  in  the  second 
place,  that  of  feeling  in  his  hand ;  in  the  third  place,  the  impression  of 
smell,  if  he  holds  it  to  his  nose ;  in  the  fourth  place,  that  of  taste  upon  his 
tongue  ;  and,  finally,  also  that  of  hearing,  if  the  fruit  falls  to  the  ground,  or 
seeds  rattle.  But  these  five  different  impressions  do  not  remain  in  him  as 
one  multitude,  but  are  united  upon  the  table  of  his  inner  sense  without  his 
participation,  and  yet  with  infallible  certainty,  so  that  he  has  the  unity 
•comprehended  within  itself  of  the  sense-impression  of  the  apple. 

Let  us  look  at  the  horse.  He  hears  the  crack  and  swing  of  the  whip ; 
he  has  often  enough  felt  the  smarting  impressions  of  it,  and  sees  it  imme- 
diately when  the  coachman  has  the  instrument  in  his  hand ;  but  these  three 
sense-impressions  remain  in  him,  not  as  any  thing  isolated,  but  blend  into 
the  unity  of  a  sense-intuition. 

The  child  is  similarly  circumstanced  in  relation  to  the  external  world. 
As  soon  as  longer  pauses  of  wakefulness  take  place,  the  eye  follows  the 
movements  of  the  mother,  and  the  impressions  of  her  friendly  face,  of  her 
tender  voice,  of  the  nourishment  she  gives,  of  the  lifting  and  carrying  and 


OBJECT  TEACHING.     BUSSE.  187 

other  cares  she  bestows  upon  him,  unite  in  a  total  picture,  in  a  unity  of  the 
«ense-intuition. 

The  sense-impressions  are  the  first,  the  sense-intuitions  the  second,  and 
the  latter  murk  already  a  step  of  the  greater  powerfulness  of  life  in  gen- 
eral, and  of  the  development  of  sense  in  particular. 

But,  while  the  animal  rises  up  into  the  world  of  sense-impressions  and 
sense-intuitions,  the  power  of  the  inborn  and  now  gently  moving  self- 
consciousness  raises  the  sense-impressions  into  perceptions,  and  thereby 
raises  also  the  sense-intuitions  into  intellectual  intuitions. 

The  perceiving  is  next  becoming  assured  of  something,  and  in  itself  is 
yet  an  undefined,  general  turning  or  application  of  the  subjectivity  to  an 
object,  a  direction  of  the  spirit  to  an  outside  thing,  a  consciousness  of 
parts,  character,  and  differences  now  becoming  clear.  But  if  a  perception 
is  internally  grasped  and  worked  up,  and  the  perception  takes  place  with 
a  more  decided  consciousness,  then  the  occurrence  becomes  a  spiritual 
intuition. 

Intellectual  intuition  (or  intuition  absolutely)  is  each  conscious,  more 
distinct  perception  or  unity  of  several  perceptions,  with  an  internal  summary. 

Intuition  is  quite  a  significant  word.  To  look  (or  to  inspect)  expresses 
subjective  activity,  not  mere  seeing,  as  the  eye  of  the  animal  may  be 
said  to  attach  itself  to  the  external  object  attracting  the  senses,  but  ex- 
presses the  act  of  sounding  it.  Intuition  signifies  such  inspection  as  exalte 
the  object  to  the  contemplator's  real  objectivity. 

An  intuition  presupposes : 

1.  An  immediately  present  object. 

2.  The  influence  of  the  same  upon  one  or  several  sense-organs. 

3.  A  spiritual  activity,  to  bring  this  influence  to  the  consciousness ; 
therefore  the  active  directions  of  the  spirit,  and  the  grasping  of  the  same.* 

The  mind  of  the  child  now  incessantly  works  on.  He  obtains  mastery 
more  and  more  swiftly,  and  more  and  more  victoriously  over  the  sense- 
impressions  and  sense-intuitions ;  the  wealth  of  perceptions  and  intellectual 
intuitions,  and  his  self-certainty  in  them,  becomes  ever  greater ;  finally,  the 
power  of  intuitive  thinking  becomes  so  great  that  single  intellectual  intui- 
tions become  IDEAS.  It  is  these  which  have  always  left  behind  in  the 
child's  soul  the  deepest  traces,  and  they  become  ideas  as  soon  as  the  mind 
has  power  to  objectivate  them ;  that  is,  to  dispose  of  them  as  of  things 
owned,  and,  independently  of  the  world  of  sense,  to  be  able  at  will  to  call 
them  forth  out  of  itself,  or  to  thrust  them  back. 

But  here  comes  in  the  need  of  a  sign ;  that  is,  of  a  word,  not  as  if  the 


*  REMARK.  Intuition,  in  the  narrower,  original  sense,  is  a  conscious  impression 
obtained  through  the  sensation  of  sight.  To  intuit  means,  first  of  all,  only  the  activity 
of  the  soul  called  forth  by  sight.  -But  since  the  most  distinct  and  the  most  surely 
defined  impressions  are  called  forth,  and  all  other  sense-perceptions  are  supported, 
perfected,  and  even  corrected  by  the  sight,  the  word  intuition  has,  since  the  time  of 
Kant,  been  extended  to  all  sensuous  perceptions.  In  the  wider  sense,  every  impression 
which  is  elevated  by  the  sensibility  (feeling)  is  an  intuition;  what  IB  external  thereby 
•becomes  internal. 


183  OBJECT   TEACHING.     BUS8E. 

word  called  forth  the  idea,  not  as  if  it  were  the  creator  of  the  idea,  but 
it  serves  as  the  seal  of  the  idea,  as  the  signature  of  a  mental  possession. 

Long  before  the  first  attempts  at  speaking,  a  little  hoard  of  ripening 
ideas  has  been  formed,  and  a  joy,  a  rapture  accompanies  the  first  efforts  to 
speak,  for  the  child  has  need  of  feeling  itself  and  enjoying  itself  in  its  self- 
certainty. 

From  the  idea  fixed  in  the  word,  man  finally  rises  in  maturer  age  to  the 
conception,  but  let  us  add,  only  imperfectly.  Few  men  who  are  accustomed 
to  think,  take  the  trouble  so  to  shape  the  hoard  of  their  ideas  and  unde- 
veloped conceptions  that  they  become  fixed  according  to  their  contents  and 
scope.  The  great  multitude  allow  themselves  to  be  satisfied  with  ideas  and 
conceptions  as  nature  and  life  obtrude  them,  as  it  were,  —  and  let  us  say 
just  in  this  place  :  object-teaching  cannot  and  will  not  give  an  understand- 
ing of  the  external  world,  which  will  be  clearly  conformable  to  its  contents. 
Whoever  should  aim  to  sharpen  the  formal  side  of  this  instruction  in  such 
a  way,  would,  in  consideration  of  the  mental  immaturity  of  the  child,  com- 
mit the  severest  mistake,  and  would  give  into  the  hands  of  the  opponents- 
of  this  system  the  sharpest  weapons.  Also  exclusively  to  accentuate  the 
material  or  practical  side  of  this  instruction,  the  exercise  of  the  senses  and 
the  enrichment  of  the  intuitions  and  ideas,  would  be  censurable,  since  this 
instruction  is  only  of  value  when  opposites  are  connected.* 

Where  an  extent  of  phenomena  is  given,  an  intent  or  content  must  also 
be  sought.  Where  the  external  world  is  brought  before  the  observation 
(too  often,  alas !  only  by  pictures),  the  way  to  the  understanding  of  it  must 
also  be  opened,  and  the  later  grasping  of  the  conception  in  due  proportion 
to  its  contents  must  be  prepared  for. 

Intuition  without  thinking  would  be  blind,  and  thinking  without  intuition 
would  be  empty,  dead,  word-cram,  trifling. 

Luther,  with  all  the  force  of  his  German  nature,  was  zealous  in  his  oppo- 
sition to  that  dead,  abstract  teaching  and  learning,  and  urged  on  the  in- 
tuitive method. 

"  Now,"  he  said,  "  let  us  look  directly  upon  the  created  things  rather 
than  upon  popedom.  For  we  are  beginning,  thank  God,  to  recognize  his 
glorious  works  and  wonders  in  the  little  flower ;  when  we  think  how  power- 
ful and  beneficent  God  is,  let  us  always  praise  and  prize  and  thank  him  for 
it.  In  his  creatures  we  recognize  how  powerful  is  his  word,  how  prodigious 
it  is."  He  also  drew  attention  to  the  relation  of  the  thing  to  the  word, 
and  considered  the  understanding  of  the  word  only  possible  by  the  under- 
standing of  the  thing. 

"  The  art  of  grammar,"  he  says,  "  points  out  and  teaches  what  the  words 
are  called  and  what  they  mean,  but  we  must  first  understand  and  know 
what  the  thing  or  the  cause  is.  Whoever  wishes  to  learn  and  preach, 
therefore,  must  first  know  both  what  the  thing  is  and  what  it  is  called  be- 
fore he  speaks  of  it  —  recognition  of  two  kinds,  one  of  the  word,  the 
other  of  the  thin?.  Now  to  him  who  has  not  the  knowledge  of  the  thing 
or  action,  the  knowledge  of  the  word  is  no  assistance.  According  to  an 

*  In  other  words,  when  the  organ  of  comparison  is  brought  into  play. 


OBJECT  TEACHING.     BUSSE.  189 

*old  proverb,  '  what  one  does  not  understand  and  know  well,  he  cannot 
-speak  of  well.' " 

No  creative  transformation  of  the  essence  of  education  could,  however, 
proceed  from  the  school,  which  remained  for  centuries  the  serving-maid — 
less  of  the  Church  than  of  Churchdom.  The  British  giant  Bacon  had  first 
to  give  us  his  Novum  Organum  Scientiarum,  that  fiery  token  of  a  new  time, 
which  had  its  central  point  in  the  natural  sciences,  and  to  bring  on  the  abso- 
lute break  with  the  middle  ages  as  well  as  with  antiquity.  As  Luther  came 
forth  against  a  mass  of  human  traditions  by  which  the  manifestations  of 
God  in  the  Holy  Scriptures  were  disfigured,  so  Bacon  appeared  against  the 
traditions  of  human  institutions  which  darkened  the  manifestations  of  God 
in  creation.  Men  were  from  that  time  forth  no  longer  obliged  to  read  the 
arbitrary  and  fanciful  interpretations  of  both  manifestations,  but  could 
read  the  manifestations  themselves.  He  wished  men  to  demand  the  imme- 
diate contemplation  of  creation. 

"  Hence  let  us  never  turn  the  eyes  of  the  mind,"  he  says,  "  away  from 
the  things  themselves,  but  take  their  images  into  us  just  as  they  are."  He 
saw  how  in  his  time  the  physics  of  Aristotle  \\ere  studied,  but  not  Nature. 
Men  read  in  books  what  the  earth  is,  what  their  authors  related  about 
stones,  plants,  animals,  &c. ;  but  with  their  own  eyes  to  investigate  these 
stones,  plants,  and  animals,  occurred  to  no  one's  mind.  And  thus  men 
were  obliged  to  surrender  at  discretion  to  the  authority  of  those  authors, 
since  they  ne\er  thought  of  making  a  critical  examination  of  their  descrip- 
tions and  stories  by  their  own  immediate  experiments.  But  such  a  prov- 
ing was  so  much  the  more  necessary  because  these  authors  themselves  had 
their  information  at  third  or  fourth  hand.  It  is  incredible  now  what  a 
mass  of  untruth  and  fable  has  been  heaped  up  everywhere  in  books  of 
natural  history,  what  monsters  their  geology  created,  what  magic  powers 
they  gave  to  stones,  &c.  (See  Raumer's  Pad.) 

When  Bacon  summoned  the  world  to  turn  their  minds  from  the  past 
and  to  look  with  open  eyes  into  living  nature,  he  not  only  gave  to  the 
experimental  sciences  (including  also  pedagogics)  a  new  impulse  in  general, 
but  he  was  also  the  father  of  realistic  pedagogy.  Ratichius  and  Comenius 
learnt  from  him,  and  the  '  real1  school,  the  industrial  school,  the  polytechnic 
institutions,  down  to  the  object-teaching  of  Father  Pestalozzi,  have  in  him 
their  foundation.  When  Bacon's  pupil,  John  Locke,  set  up  "  the  healthy 
soul  in  the  healthy  body  "  as  the  chief  maxim  in  education,  is  it  not  the 
same  thing  as  when  Pestalozzi  and  Froebel  desired  "  the  harmonious 
development  of  human  nature,"  and  preached  conformity  to  nature  in  edu- 
cation and  instruction  ? 

In  opposition  to  the  empty,  deadening  word-teaching  that  grew  rank  in 
the  schools,  "  the  poisonous  seed  of  scholasticism,"  Ratichius  exclaimed  : 

"  Everything  according  to  the  ordering  and  course  of  nature,  for  all  un- 
natural and  arbitrary  violent  teaching  is  injurious  and  weakens  nature.  Let 
us  have  every  thing  without  constraint  and  by  inward  necessity.  First  the 
thing  itself,  then  the  conception  or  meaning  of  the  thing.  No  rule  before 
•we  have  the  substance.  Rules  without  substance  lead  the  understanding 
•astray.  Every  thing  through  experiment,  minute  investigation. 


190  OBJECT  TEACHING.      BUSSE. 

"  No  authority  is  good  for  anything,  if  there  is  not  reason  and  a  foundation* 
for  it.  No  rule  and  no  system  is  to  be  allowed  which  is  not  radically  ex- 
plored anew,  and  really  founded  upon  proof." 

Truly  when  one  hears  such  golden  words,  one  is  tempted  to  ask,  "  Why 
were  those  battles  on  the  field  of  pedagogy  necessary  ?  Why  must  a  Franke,. 
a  Rousseau,  a  Basedow,  a  Pestalozzi,  a  Diesterweg,  a  Frcebel  come,  if,  a&- 
Jean  Paul  said  in  his  Levana, '  merely  to  repeat  that  a  hundred  times,  which 
is  a  hundred  times  forgotten '  r  " 

In  the  path  which  Ratichius  had  trodden,  strode  forward  a  sovereign,, 
and  with  all  the  power  and  burning  zeal  of  a  reformer,  Amos  Comenius. 
the  author  of  the  first  picture-book  for  children,  the  orbis  pictus,  in  which- 
every  thing  that  can  address  the  childish  love  of  objects  and  representa- 
tions of  objects,  whether  in  heaven  or  on  earth,  in  the  human  or  the  animal 
world,  is  illustrated  and  explained  by  description  and  comment 

He  is  to  be  estimated,  starting  from  a  sound,  compendious  observation, 
of  human  nature  and  its  relations,  as  well  as  of  pedagogic  problems,  as  th& 
spirited  father  of  the  so-called  object-teaching  as  a  special  discipline. 

He  says :  "  With  real  insight,  not  with  verbal  description,  must  the  in- 
struction begin.  Out  of  such  insight  develops  certain  knowledge.  Not 
the  shadows  of  things,  but  things  themselves,  which  work  upon  the  mind 
and  the  imaginative  powers,  are  to  lie  ever  near  to  the  young.  Place 
every  thing  before  the  mind.  Insight  is  evidence.  Only  where  the  things- 
are  actually  absent,  is  one  helped  by  the  pictorial  representation. 

"  Men  must  be  led,  as  far  as  possible,  to  create  their  wisdom,  not  out  of 
books,  but  out  of  the  contemplation  of  heaven  and  earth,  oaks  and  beeches ; 
that  is,  they  must  learn  to  see  and  investigate  the  things  themselves.  Let 
the  objects  of  physical  instruction  be  solid,  real,  useful  things,  which  affect 
the  senses  and  the  powers  of  the  imagination.  That  happens  when  they 
are  brought  near  to  the  senses,  visible  to  the  eyes,  audible  to  the  ears,  fra- 
grant to  the  nose,  agreeable  to  the  taste,  grateful  to  the  touch.  The  begin- 
ning of  knowledge  should  be  from  the  senses.  What  man  has  an  insight 
into  with  his  senses,  impresses  itself  deeply  on  the  memory,  never  to  bfr 
forgotten. 

"  Man  first  uses  his  senses,  then  his  memory,  next  his  understanding, 
and  lastly  his  judgment.  Let  us  teach  not  merely  to  understand,  but  to- 
express  what  is  understood.  Speech  and  the  knowledge  of  things  must 
keep  step.  Teaching  of  things  and  of  speech  must  go  hand  in  hand.  Words- 
without  the  knowledge  of  things  are  empty  words." 

This  running  parallel  of  the  simultaneous  learning  of  things  and  words- 
was  the  deep  secret  of  the  method  of  Comenius. 

In  the  time  of  Hermann  Franke,  —  who,  as  the  noble  friend  of  man,  the- 
father  of  the  poor  and  the  orphan,  the  great  champion  of  the  German  peo- 
ple's-school,  deserves  to  be  called  the  forerunner  of  Pestalozzi,  in  organiz- 
ing talent  so  far  superior  to  him,  —  the  elevation  of  burger  life  had  become 
so  great,  the  relations  of  trade  and  commerce  had  been  so  widened,  and  the- 
pedagogics  of  Comenius  had  created  so  much  esteem  and  astonishment  ia 
the  realists  (physicists),  that  the  '  Real'-School  was  able  to  blossom  forth 
upon  the  ground  of  that  truly  practical  piety  which  raised  morality  to  a 


OBJECT  TEACHING.      BUSSE.  191 

principle  of  education.  The  general  law  of  the  method  was  continual  con- 
versation with  the  pupils  ;  catechism  was  the  soul  of  the  instruction.  All 
subjects  which  had  heretofore  been  taken  for  granted  must  be  looked  into- 
and  examined  critically  at  the  moment.  Rare  objects  of  nature  were  col- 
lected in  a  naturalist's  cabinet.  Especially  were  the  children  to  become 
acquainted  with  the  nature  lying  around  them,  with  the  occupations  of  hu 
man  life,  witli  the  workshops  of  the  handicrafts. 

When  such  pedagogic  wisdom  as  this  did  not  bear  the  hoped-for  fruits,-- 
when  the  schools,  which  had  been  added  to  life,  as  it  were,  by  a  beneficent 
piety,  were  estranged  from  it  again  by  an  ossified  pietism      — the  blame  lay, 
as  always  and  chiefly,  in  the  direction  which  has  hitherto  fettered  the  human 
mind  whenever  it  has  set  form  above  essence. 

But  as  in  the  domain  of  statesmanship,  so  also  in  the  domain  of  pedagogy, 
a  revolution  was  preparing  in  France. 

It  was  Rousseau  who,  in  "  Emil,"  wrote  a  book  for  the  literature  of  th*» 
world  which  Gothe  called  "  the  Gospel  of  human  nature." 

Let  us  turn  our  eyes  wholly  away  from  the  external  and  unsuccessful 
experiment,  since  "  Emil "  is  indeed  only  the  form  for  proclaiming  the 
doctrine  of  the  Pedagogy,  the  candlestick  for  these  flames,  the  setting  for 
these  pearls  ;  this  book  was  and  is,  especially  for  France,  as  well  as  for  the 
world-wide  development  of  Pedagogy  generally,  a  fact. 

Only  Pestalozzi  has  with  equally  imposing  power  fought  for  the  means 
of  education  gained  by  listening  to  Nature  itself,  for  the  beginning  of  educa- 
tion at  birth,  for  instruction  gained  by  insight  and  self-activity,  for  self- 
formation  through  experience ;  but  Pestalozzi  stands  higher  than  Rousseau, 
for  as  the  latter  had  not  the  conception  of  the  mother,  so  was  wanting  in 
him  the  paternal  power  of  the  heart,  with  which  he  might,  with  his  "  Emil," 
have  grasped  and  sustained  a  unique  and  fully  authorized  influence  over 
that  great  whole  —  a  nation.  In  the  meantime,  the  flood  of  light  which 
flowed  from  him  over  Pedagogy,  was  so  potent  that  the  power  which  block- 
heads opposed  to  the  illumination  could  only  be  compared  to  the  mist  which 
softens  the  light  of  the  sun. 

Under  the  influence  of  this  spirit,  which  came  to  be  dominant,  the  school 
of  the  philanthropists  was  formed,  which  earnestly  pursued  the  ideas  of 
Rousseau  :  "  Everything  through  and  for  the  harmonious  development  of 
man."  The  founder  and  representative  of  this  aim  was  the  energetic  Basedow. 

In  his  elementary  work,  accompanied  with  one  hundred  Chodowieckischer 
copper-plates  (the  forerunner  of  our  picture-plates),  he  gave  out  an  arranged 
plan  of  all  necessary  knowledge  for  the  instruction  of  youth  from  the  begin- 
ning up  to  the  academic  age. 

This  normal  work  was  followed  by  the  "  Philantropin,"  at  Dessau,  as  a  nor- 
mal school.  Distinguished  men,  Campe,  Salzmann,  Rochow,  worked  still 
further  in  the  spirit  of  Basedow.  The  noble  Von  Rochow  wrote  :  "  Youth 
is  the  time  to  be  taught.  First  in  school  comes  the  practice  of  the  senses 
and  the  application  of  the  souls  in  attention  or  watchfulness,  particularly 
the  habit  of  sight-seeing  and  hearing  ;  then  practice  in  reflection  upon 
every  thing  which  happens,  and  in  comparison  and  discrimination." 

In  the  Basedow-Rochow  period  there  was  a  strong  opposition  to  the  care- 


192  OBJECT  TEACHING.    BUSSE. 

less  old  school-ways.  Instead  of  the  one-sided  training  of  the  memory, 
they  wished  for  an  awakening,  soul-refreshing  instruction  and  development 
of  the  thinking  power  in  the  pupil.  In  order  to  secure  this,  they  proceeded 
to  teach  them  to  think,  to  speak,  to  observe,  to  investigate  ;  they  recog- 
nized that  above  all  things,  correctly  apprehending  senses  were  a  funda- 
mental condition  for  correct  judgment.  Now  they  insisted  upon  further 
material  apparatus  for  culture,  and  upon  a  better  method,  upon  enriching 
the  pupils'  minds  with  material  knowledge  and  multiplied  accomplishments. 

The  King  in  this  kingdom,  the  genius  of  Christian-Jin  man  pedayogy 
was  Pestalozzi. 

In  the  midst  of  the  wrecks  of  his  life  he  still  found,  as  a  single  costly  pearl, 
the  motto  of  education  for  all  times  :  The  development  of  human  nature  on 
the  ground  of  nature ;  education  of  the  people  on  the  firm  ground  of  the 
people  and  the  people's  needs. 

In  opposition  to  the  petty  and  pernicious  principle  of  utility  he  found  in 
the  eternal  ideal  of  human  life  the  welfare  of  man. 

Tlie  development  of  human  nature  on  the  ground  of  nature  is  the  grand 
thought  to  which  Pestalozzi  sought  to  give  permanence  to  his  method 
("Book  for  Mothers  "),  which  his  truest  pupil,  Froebel,  sought  in  the  kin- 
dergarten, and  their  followers  in  the  so-called  object-teaching. 
""""When  I  look  back  and  ask  myself,"  says  Pestalozzi,  "what  I  have 
offered  peculiarly  for  the  cause  of  human  instruction,  I  find  that  I  have 
established  the  highest,  most  advanced  principles  of  instruction  in  the 
recognition  of  intuition  as  the  absolute  foundation  of  all  knowledge  ;  and 
setting  aside  all  single  doctrines,  have  endeavored  to  find  the  essence  of 
teaching  itself  and  the  ultimate  form  by  which  the  culture  of  our  race  must 
be  determined  as  by  nature  itself." 

"""  All  the  pedagogues  were  agreed  then,  that  for  the  first  instruction  visible 
material,  lying  within  the  sphere  of  the  child  and  accessible  to  him,  is  to  be 
chosen  for  observation,  expression,  and  information,  together  with  the  first 
practice  in  reading,  writing,  and  counting.  An  object-teaching  conformable 
to  nature,  aiming  to  produce  self-activity  in  the  child,  was  the  word  of  the 
new  pedagogy. 

We  will  now  pass  on  to  the  contemplation  of  the  place,  of  the  aim,  and 
of  the  method  of  object-teaching. 

The  foundation  of  instruction  forever  won  by  Pestalozzi  in  the  principle 
of  intuition,  soon  made  an  end  to  the  so-called  pure-thinking  exercises 
of  the  Basedow  school,  which,  executed  with  arbitrarily  selected  and  most 
unmeaning  material,  occupied  an  isolated  place  in  the  instruction,  and 
missed  the  living  connection.  It  had  been  seen  that  these  thinking  exer- 
cises, ignoring  the  material  worth  of  knowledge,  led  to  an  empty  formalism  ; 
that  the  one-sid«ed  enlightening  of  the  understanding  must  lead  to  poverty 
of  mind  in  other  fields. 

Now  since  Pestalozzi  had  demanded  for  each  subject  of  instruction  the 
power  of  intuition,  the  plunge  into  the  material,  its  all-sided  consumption 
and  its  organic  relations,  the  isolated  exercises  in  pure  thinking  were  no 
longer  needed,  and  they  were  struck  out  from  the  plan  of  the  lessons,  and 
the  so-called  object-teaching  took  their  place.  Pestalozzi,  in  his  strivings 


OBJECT  TEACHING.     BUSSE.  193 

to  seize  upon  the  truth,  did  homage  to  the  thinking  exercises,  and  once,  it 
is  said,  passed  six  weeks  with  the  children  musing  over  a  hole  in  the  car- 
pet. Later,  as  the  importance  of  nature  as  the  best  teacher  disclosed 
itself  to  him,  he  set  up  (see  "  The  Mother's  Book  ")  the  human  body  as,  ac- 
cording to  his  view,  the  nearest  and  ever-present  object-lesson  to  the  child. 

The  body  is  certainly  the  nearest  material  object  to  the  child,  but  it  is 
not  thg  nearest  material  for  object-teaching.  Does  not  the  child  direct  his 
eyes  first  to  things  around  him,  to  furniture,  plants,  animals,  &c.,  before  he 
directs  them  to  his  own  person  ?  to  colors  and  forms  rather  than  to  his 
limbs  and  their  movements  ?  Not  merely  the  object  in  itself,  but  the  appli- 
cation of  it  in  pointing  out  and  naming  the  different  parts  of  the  body,  a 
mere  mass  of  names,  the  situation  of  the  different  parts  and  exclamations 
of  wonder  about  them,  the  connection  and  use  of  the  limbs,  &c.,  is  not 
a  lesson  conformable  to  nature.  If  Pestalozzi's  scholars  repeated  —  the 
mouth  is  under  the  nose,  the  nose  is  over  the  mouth,  and  similar  remarks, 
the  material  gain  for  the  children  must  have  been  like  that  of  the  peasant 
when  he  threshes  empty  straw.  The  mistake  of  that  experiment  time  and 
progress  has  swept  away.  Pestalozzi's  scholars  soon  went  on  in  a  more 
natural  manner,  and  struck  out  the  following  sequence  :  schoolroom,  fam- 
ily, house,  house-floor,  the  sitting-room,  the  kitchen,  the  ground,  the  cellar, 
the  yard,  the  habitation,  the  city,  the  village,  the  garden,  the  field,  the 
meadow,  the  wood,  the  water,  the  atmosphere,  the  sky,  the  season,  the 
year  and  its  festivals,  man,  body  and  soul  —  God. 

Others  endeavored  to  add  essentially  similar  material  in  the  course  of  the 
year.  This  instruction  in  and  from  nature,  which  developed  continually  into 
thoughtful  intuition  and  intuitive  thinking,  and  unfolded  the  power  of 
speech  in  every  aspect,  from  the  simplest  forms  up  to  poetical  ones  and  to 
•song,  —  in  short,  which  took  captive  the  whole  child  in  his  intuition,  his 
thinking,  feeling,  and  willing,  and  enticed  him  to  self-activity,  seemed  to 
•certain  inspired  pupils  of  Pestalozzi  to  be  materially  and  formally  so  im- 
portant that  they  declared  a  special  place  for  it  in  their  plan  of  instruction 
to  be  quite  insufficient,  and  that  it  was  the  all-important  CENTRE  and  sup- 
port, with  wholesale  condemnation  of  the  material  aim  of  reading  and 
writing  in  the  first  school-year.  With  object-teaching  as  the  common 
foundation,  drawing,  writing,  sounding  the  letters  (lautireri),  reading,  de- 
claiming, singing,  exercises  in  grammar  and  composition,  geometry, 
arithmetic,  domestic  economy,  natural  science  —  up  to  religion,  were  to  be 
developed  in  a  natural  way. 

The  Vogel  Schools  in  Leipzig  have  sought  to  realize  these  high  ideas. 

It  must  indeed  be  confessed  that  these  ideas  can  be  realized  in  the  hands 
of  a  teacher  who  is  furnished  with  rich  pedagogical  experience,  who  has  a 
profound  understanding  of  his  mother-tongue  in  grammatical  and  aesthetic 
relations,  and  who,  above  all  other  things,  has  preserved  his  childlike  dis- 
position. Such  a  teacher  will  succeed  in  reaching  this  summit  of  educa- 
tional art  founded  on  the  great  law  of  human  development  from  unbroken 
unity  up  to  the  unfolding  of  principles  into  their  reunion  in  a  still  higher 
unity  ;  and  he  will,  in  all  probability,  do  more  in  the  two  first  school-years 
to  bring  the  children  farther  on,  to  lay  a  wise  and  correct  foundation  of 


194  OBJECT    TEACHING.     BUSSE. 

culture,  than  if  he  began  according  to  the  old  practice,  with  separate 
branches  of  instruction  from  the  first  hour.  But  whether  it  is  possible  to 
fix  the  central  point  in  a  series  of  normal  words,  which,  planned  on  a  one- 
sided principle,  are  yet  expected  to  serve  the  most  varied  principles,  is 
more  than  questionable. 

One  of  the  most  important  testimonies  to  the  place  and  value  of  object- 
teaching,  is  Grassmann,  who,  in  his  "  Guide  to  Exercises  in  Speaking  and 
Thinking,"  as  the  natural  foundation  for  the  sum-total  of  instruction,  con- 
fesses himself  friendly  to  this  high  culture.  He  says  :  "  The  first  exercises  in 
language  must  be  in  conversations,  which  are  to  make  the  children  acquaint- 
ed with  the  things  of  the  external  world,  their  properties,  their  relations 
and  connections,  and  lead  them  to  receive  this  outward  world  correctly 
in:o  themselves,  to  portray  it  again,  to  shape  it,  and  to  make  an  inward 
representative  world  of  it  which  will  exactly  correspond  to  the  outer  ;  also 
to  guide  them  to  readiness  in  speech,  especially  upon  the  objects  of  the 
senses."  In  later  times,  Richter  (of  Leipzig)  has  described  this  standpoint 
in  the  most  striking  manner  in  his  prize  treatise  upon  Object-Teaching. 

Testimonies  have  likewise  been  given  to  the  opposite  view.  Based  upon 
the  predominating  formal  aim  of  object-teaching,  together  with  the  sug- 
gestion of  postponing  the  material  aim  of  reading  and  writing,  and  the 
duty  and  right  to  handle  every  subject  and  to  strive  at  every  step  for  the 
whole  in  the  quite  antiquated  maxims  of  the  word  method  and  the  culti- 
vation of  the  memory,  they  have  not  merely  left  out  the  object-teaching  to 
this  extent,  but  have  stricken  it  especially  and  wholly  from  the  programme 
of  lessons,  and  have  tried  to  prepare  the  same  fate  for  it  as  was  decided 
upon  for  the  abstract  exercises  in  thinking. 

For  two  decades  has  resounded  from  that  side  the  saying  :  no  indepen- 
dent object-teaching  but  in  connection  with  the  Reader. 

Reasons : 

a.  The  object  of  observation  (Anschauung)  and  conversation  upon  it  is 
for  the  most  part  too  prosaic  to  the  child's  cirole  of  thinking  and  ideas  to 
give  any  exciting  elements  of  knowledge. 

b.  The  artistic  systematic  treatment  of  objects,  and  the  specialties  to  be 
sought  out  in  every  individual  thing,  (size,  parts,  situation,  color,  form, 
use,)  is  a  torment  to  children  and  teachers. 

c.  The  desire  that  children  should  already  speak  upon  whole  proposi- 
tions is  opposed  to  the  way  and  manner  in  which  backward-speaking  chil- 
dren improve  and  enrich  their  speech.     They  need  in  the  beginning  more 
single  words  and  expressions  for  things  and  actions  which  they  perceive, 
rather  than  little  propositions  which  they  may  repeat  like  parrots. 

d.  If  we  wish  to  help  the  thinking  and  speaking  of  the  young,  we  need 
no  special  objects  lying  around ;  but  the  means  of  help  and  culture  lie  in 
instruction,  in  speech  and  reading,  and  in  biblical  history. 

e.  Our  object-teaching  was   only  an  hour  of  gabble,  a  training  without 
any  special  value.     The  judgment  of  another  voice  is  :    "  If  it  was  meant 
that  the  object-teaching  should  belong  specially  or  strikingly  only  to  the 
earlier  years  of  development,  or  should  serve   only  for   the   elementary 


OBJECT  TEACHING.     BUSSE.  195 

material  of  teaching,  there  lies  at  the  foundation  of  this  conception  a 
false  idea  of  the  nature  of  man,  as  well  as  a  false  idea  of  what 
man  has  to  appropriate  for  the  development  and  nourishment  of  his 
morally  spiritual  nature.  Insight  belongs  to  thinking  as  warmth  belongs 
to  the  sunlight.  Where  it  is  wanting  to  the  thinking,  the  pulse-beat  of 
spiritual  life  is  wanting.  The  method  of  insight  must  show  itself  power- 
fully for  the  development  and  exercise  of  the  mental  activity  during  the 
whole  period  of  teaching.  Object-teaching  is  to  be  brought  into  requisition 
in  every  stage  of  learning." 

Beautiful  and  true  as  these  words  sound,  they  are  yet  one-sided.  Do 
those,  then,  who  wish  to  recommend  independent  object-teaching  mis- 
understand and  deny  the  necessity  and  worth  of  teaching  by  intuition? 
By  no  means.  Reading,  writing,  counting,  memorizing,  singing,  biblical 
stories,  are  the  departments  of  instruction  of  the  elementary  classes.  It  is 
not  contradictory  to  unite  and  sprinkle  in  exercises  in  thinking,  observing, 
and  speaking,  and  above  all  to  do  this  lovingly  and  with  power.  Yet  how 
is  it  with  the  progressive  ordering  of  this  physical  (realen)  fundamental 
knowledge?  Does  not  our  object-teaching  bring  its  order  with  it  in  the 
most  natural  manner,  while  the  exercises  in  observation  and  in  language,, 
in  this  addition  to  the  primer  and  the  reader,  have  a  great  dispersive* 
power,  a  want  of  design,  an  instability,  and  dissipating,  of  the  mind  ? 

What  Volter  says  is  scarcely  more  than  an  empty  phrase  :  "  What  a. 
pupil  already  knows,  what  is  not  new  to  him,  what  he  learns  without  in- 
struction, is  not  the  object  of  his  curiosity,  and  consequently  cannot  be  the 
means  of  awakening  his  mental  power." 

But  the  object-teaching  will  reach  several  ends  at  once:  It  joins  on  its 
material  to  what  is  already  known,  adds  something  new  and  interesting  to 
this  material  for  culture,  so  that  the  mind  is  excited  and  awakened,  called , 
into  activity,  and  its  circle  widened.     It  would  be   indeed  a  misconception  , 
and  a  failure  if  we  should  talk  with  the  little  ones  about  nothing  but  what 
they  already  know  and  have  heard  and  felt.     We  would  have  no  hold  of 
them,  it  would  be  flat  and  uninteresting,  and  would  only  get  them  to  sleep.. 
No  one  would  designate  this  as  the  object-teaching  we  so  highly  prize. 

The  famous  Prussian  Regulation  of  October  3d,  1854,  expresses  itself 
plainly  in  regard  to  object-teaching  : 

"Since  all  the  instruction  is  to  be  based  upon  observation,  and  must  be 
used  as  well  for  thinking  as  for  speaking,  abstract  instruction  in  observation, 
thinking,  and  speaki'  g,  is  not  in  place  in  the  elementary  school  of  a  single 
class." 

Goltzsch,  as  the  one  interpreter  of  the  Regulations,  sees  in  object-instru.^ 
tion  only  "  empty,  unessential  exercises  in  thinking  and  speaking,  and 
puts  in  its  place  memory-cramming.  The  seizing,  imitating,  and  appro- 
priating of  worthy  and  rich  thoughts  presented  in  fit  material,  in  excellent 
spoken  expression,  with  which  the  child  must  busy  himself  long  and  re- 
peatedly, according  to  the  nature  of  the  thing,  leads  him  yet  unpractised  in 
thinking,  and  especially  the  child  poor  in  words,  farther  on  in  his  thought 
and  speech-forming  than  the  tedious  nml  wearisome  exercises  in  his  own. 


OBJECT    Tll.\«  HIM!.     BUSSE. 

thinking  upon   all  sorts  of  dry  stuff  which  is  adapted  neither  to  work  ex- 
citingly upon  his  thinking  powers  nor  his  feelings." 

The  words  sound  sophistical,  for  they  seem  to  be  directed  against  the 
long  rejected  exercises  in  thinking,  while  they  really  mean  object-teaching. 

The  better  interpreter  of  the  Regulation,  Vormann.  rich  in  experience, 
restores  object-teaching  through  a  back  door,  when  he  says,  "  It  is  abso- 
lutely necessary  (that  is,  under  all  circumstances)  to  have  conversations 
with  children  to  a  certain  extent,  and  of  u  certain  kind,  as  they  usually  can 
neither  speak  coherently  themselves  nor  understand  the  coherent  speech  of 
the  teacher.  This  is  because  they  need  to  be  made  susceptible  of  further 
instruction,  whether  oral  or  from  the  book.  But  these  conversations  must 
not  be  about  abstractions  like  space  and  number  ;  they  must  be  about  real 
objects  in  their  immediate  surroundings." 

"  Some  cultivation  in  thinking  and  speaking  is  one  of  the  first  and  most 
indispensable  requisitions,"  says  Goltzsch,  thus  contradicting  himself,  if  a 
real  instruction  in  reading  is  to  be  possible,  and  if  any  instruction  is  to  an- 
swer its  aim. 

A  methodical  man,  Otto,  of  Miihlhausen,  (Allgcm.  Schulzcitung. 
Juliheft,  1842,)  rather  arrogantly  allows  himself  to  perceive  that,  "  Intelli- 
gent exercises  in  observation  have  been  organized  into  a  certain  teaching  of 
objects,  but  the  practical  part  of  this  is  nothing  else  but  domestic  economy, 
natural  science,  geometry,  counting,  &c.,  in  their  elements.  There  is  no 
reality  in  it  as  a  particular  subject.  Now  follow  the  evidence  that  we  only 
see  and  look  into,  that  which  we  have  known  and  understood,  and  from 
that  is  inferred  the  strange  assertion  that  it  is  not  the  observation,  and 
consequently  not  the  object-teaching,  which  helps  to  correct  representa- 
tions and  conceptions,  but  language,  and  especially  book-language" 

We  will  let  Mr.  Otto  take  the  second  step  before  he  has  taken  the  first, 
and  rather  hold  to  the  sayings  of  Gothe,  the  master  of  language  : — 

"  I  think  also  from  out  of  the  truth,  but  from  out  of  the  truth  of  the  five 
senses/' 

Xature  is  the  only  book  that  offers  great  things  of  intrinsic  worth  on 
all  its  leaves." 

"  I  am  the  deadly  enemy  of  empty  words." 

"  I  must  go  so  far,  that  every  thing  must  be  known  from  observation, 
and  nothing  by  tradition  or  name." 

In  gigantic  proportions  by  the  depth  of  his  grasp  above  the  afore- 
mentioned opponents  of  object-teaching  stands  the  Bavarian  school- 
counsellor,  Riethammer;  and  we  could  make  no  reply  to  that-witty  censur- 
ing voice,  if  we  did  not  know  that  in  spite  of  all,  that  there  is  an 
object-teaching  which,  imparted  with  vivacity  on  the  part  of  the  teacher,  is 
suited  in  full  measure  to  the  nature  of  the  child,  and  to  the  material,  so  far 
as  the  child  has  relation  to  it ;  and  if  we  had  not  a  hundred  times  had  living 
evidence  how  this  instruction  works  when  a  skilful  hand  makes  use  of  it, 
how  the  class  are  all  eye  and  ear,  how  the  children  live  in  it,  and  how 
eagerly  they  look  forward  to  these  hours  as  their  most  delightful  ones. 

On  the  contrary,  it  makes  a  sad  impression  wh^n  this  contemporary  of 
Pestalozzi  confesses  to  the  following  views: 


OBJECT   TKA THING.     BUSSE.  197 

"  The  only  exercises  in  intuition,  which  are  essential  as  an  artistic 
direction  of  the  mind  in  every  kind  of  first  instruction,  are  those  on  ohjects 
of  the  inner  world,  which  are  not  like  those  of  the  outer  world,  indepen- 
dent of  the  mind  itself,  but  must  first  be  brought  to  view.  These  exercises 
must  begin  early,  before  the  mind  loses  its  pliability  to  them  by  the  pre- 
ponderating influence  of  the  outside  world ;  and  it  is,  therefore,  a  double 
loss  to  fill  up  this  season  of  formation  with  outside  things  which  can  offer 
nothing  to  the  mind  so  long  as  it  is  not  ripe  for  profound  contemplation, 
and  yet,  which  take  up,  unavoidably,  such  a  broad  span  of  our  lives. 

"  Exercise  of  observation  of  spiritual  subjects,  as  the  earliest  instruction, 
is  nothing  else  but  the  exercise  of  memory. 

"  For  the  independent  observation  of  intellectual  subjects,  that  is,  for 
intellectual  comprehension  of  the  world  of  ideas,  the  youthful  mind  is  not 
yet  ripe  ;  it  needs  to  be  much  more  exercised  first.  But  this  exercise 
requires  that,  before  all  things  else,  it  shall  learn  to  fix  intellectual  objects, 
and  bring  them  into  view.  For  that,  it  is  necessary  that  they  become 
objective  ;  they  will  become  so  when  stated  in  words,  in  the  expressions  in 
which  they  have  received  form  by  devout  and  spiritual-minded  men.  To 
accept  ideas  in  this  objective  form,  is  called,  bringing  spiritual  subjects  to 
the  intuition  ;  and  in  memorizing  such  expressions,  the  problem  for  the 
beginning  of  instruction  is  consequently  solved." 

It  is  only  astonishing  to  us  that  Riethammer  does  not  propose  for  this 
process  of  objectiving  (of  bringing  spiritual  subjects  to  the  intuition)  the 
language  of  the  republic  of  letters,  Latin,  as  was  the  custom  a  hundred 
years  ago.  A  compromise  is  no  longer  possible  here. 

The  memory-cram  is  to  solve  the  problem  of  a  natural  educational 
instruction.  The  "  word  method  "  is  to  be  mind-forming ;  mechanism  and 
death  are  to  be  called  life ! 

Katichius,  Comenius,  Franke,  Rousseau,  Basedow,  Rochow,  Pestalozzi, 
have  lived  and  striven  in  vain. 

••  Hold  f,i-t  what  thou  hast,  that  no  man  may  take  away  thy  crown,"  says 
Scripture  ;  and  object-teaching  is  such  a  crown. 

But  to  take  the  medium  between  the  extremes  is  our  task. 

We  cannot  follow  the  idealist  of  object-teaching  so  far  as  to  grant  him, 
at  once,  the  exclusiveness  he  desires  for  this  foundation,  because  the 
pedagogic  endowment,  presupposed  for  its  success,  which  extols  the 
handling  of  the  material  to  the  point  of  art,  is  found  only  in  the  rarest 
cases;  and  also,  because  we  must  take  into  account  the  demands  of  parents 
and  relatives  upon  the  schools.  For,  in  the  very  first  school  year  they 
follow  the  development  of  the  child  with  disproportioned  interest,  and  base 
the  measure  of  their  judgment  upon  his  progress  in  reading,  writing,  and 
arithmetic.  Still  less  will  we  reject  all  object-teaching,  but  will  demand  for 
the  sake  of  its  personal  aim,  that  it  shall  be  made  the  underpinning,  and 
retaining  the  principle  of  the  intuitive  method  in  all  domains  and  with  all 
kinds  of  material,  and  the  handling  of  all  the  branches  of  instruction,  as  of 
an  organic  whole,  that  it  shall  be  intrusted,  at  least  three  or  four  times  a 
week,  for  two  hours  at  least,  not  to  the  hands  of  the  youngest,  most  inex- 


19H  OBJECT  TEACHING.     BUSSE. 

perlenced  teacher,  man  or  woman,  but  to  the  most  skilful,  practical,  ana 
experienced. 

In  this  view  of  ours  the  majority  of  the  schools  in  Germany,  at  this 
period,  agree. 

The  more  the  material  for  the  exercises  in  observation  and  language  in 
the  first  school  years  is  selected  in  reference  to  the  most  childlike  demands, 
and  the  more  adapted  to  their  minds,  the  more  exciting  to  independent 
action  are  the  exercises,  the  more  will  the  child  show  earnestness  in  observ- 
ing, and  the  better  judgment  will  he  form  about  things,  circumstances,  ap- 
pearances ;  the  more  likely  will  he  be  to  judge  correctly  how  and  what 
they  are  in  themselves,  and  what  connection  they  have  with  life  itself.  The 
endeavor  should  not  be  to  urge  the  children  into  all  kinds  of  physical 
knowledge  in  a  dry  and  meagre  manner,  but  to  enrich  them  with  such 
knowledge  whose  ample  material  for  the  purpose  of  instruction  leads  to 
good  strong  fundamental  principles.  These  should  be  wisely  limited  (the 
introduction  into  all  possible  physical  knowledge  being  kept  in  view),  as  a 
check  upon  vague  and  confused  wandering. 

Instruction  gains  in  contents  and  value  when  it  handles  in  good  order  a 
worthy,  comprehensive,  and  able  material,  and  rises  into  independent  ob- 
ject-teaching in  the  first  school  years. 

Different  Kinds  of  Intuitions  for  Object  Teaching* 

1.  Sensuous  intuitions :  not  given  merely  mediately  through  the  senses, 
but  immediately  ;  outward  objects. 

2.  Mathematical  intuitions  :  representations  of  space,  time,  number,  and 
motion  ;  also  belonging  to  the  outward  world,  not  directly  given  by  the 
senses,  but  mediately. 

3.  Moral  intuitions,  arising  out  of  the  phenomena  of  virtuous  life  in 
man. 

4.  Religious  intuitions,  arising  in  the  nature  of  man,  whose  sentiments 
relate  him  to  God. 

5.  ^Esthetic  intuitions,  from  the  beautiful  and  sublime  phenomena  of 
nature  and  human  life,  (including  artistic  representations.) 

6.  Purely  human  intuitions,  which  relate  to  the  noble,  mutual  relations 
of  man  in  love,  faith,  friendship,  &c. 

7.  Social  intuitions,  which  comprise  the  unifying  of  men  in  the  great 
whole ;  in  corporations,  in  community  and  state  life.     The  school  cannot 
offer  all  these  subjects  of  intuition  according  to  their  different  natures  and 
their  origin,  for  it  will  not  take  the  place  of  life  ;   it  only  supposes  them, 
connects  itself  with  them,  and  refers  to  them,  but  it  points  them  out  in  all 
their  compass,  occupies  itself  with  them,  and  builds  up  with  them  on  all 
sides  the  foundation  of  intelligence. 

The  sensuous  intuitions  relate  to  the  corporeal  world  and  the  changes  in 
it.  The  pupil  must  see  with  his  own  eyes  as  much  as  possible,  must  hear 

*  We  here  add  a  beautiful  resume  of  the  intuitions  as  they  were  given  by  our  old 
master  Dietrterweg  in  answer  to  the  questions:  "What  intuitions?  What  shall  we 
•waken  ?  Out  of  what  fields,  whence,  shall  they  be  taken  ?  >'  "  Let  us  look  at  the 
different  kinds,"  he  says;  "  let  us  enumerate  them." 


OBJECT  TEACHING.     BUSSE.  199 

with  his  own  ears,  must  use  all  his  senses,  seek  out  the  sensuous  tokens 
of  things  in  their  phenomena  upon,  under,  and  abov  the  ground,  in  min- 
erals, plants,  animals,  men  and  their  works,  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  physical 
phenomena,  £c. 

The  mathematical  intuitions  are  developed  out  of  the  sensuous  by  easy 
abstractions  lying  near  at  hand  ;  the  representations  of  the  expansion  of 
space  compared  one  with  another  ;  the  things  of  time  one  after  another ; 
the  representations  of  number  —  the  how  much;  the  representations  "of 
change  in  space,  and  the  progression  of  the  same.  The  simplest  of  these 
representations  are  those  of  space ;  the  rest  become  objects  of  intuition 
by  means  of  these,  by  points,  lines,  and  surfaces;  in  arithmetic,  for  ex- 
ample, points,  lines,  and  their  parts  are  the  material  of  intuitions. 

The  moral  intuitions  come  to  the  pupils  through  their  lives  with  theii 
relatives,  or  in  school  through  school-mates  and  teachers.  These  are  natu- 
rally inward  intuitions,  which  are  embodied  in  the  expression  of  the  coun- 
tenance, in  the  eye,  and  in  the  speech.  The  pupil's  personal  experience 
here,  as  everywhere,  is  the  chief  thing.  Happy  the  child  who  is  sur- 
rounded by  thoroughly  moral,  pure  men,  whose  manifestations  lay  in  him 
the  moral  foundation  of  life.  The  moral  facts  of  history  are  pointed  out 
to  him  by  the  teacher  in  a  living  manner,  by  means  of  the  living  word  of 
the  eloquent  lips  and  the  feeling  heart. 

To  religious  intuitions  the  child  comes  through  the  contemplation  of 
nature,  its  phenomena  and  beneficent  workings ;  through  the  piety  of  his 
parents,  the  commands  of  the  father  and  mother  ;  through  the  contempla- 
tion of  the  community  in  the  house  of  worship ;  through  religious  songs 
in  the  school ;  through  religious  instruction  and  confirmation  in  the  school 
and  church ;  through  religious-minded  teachers  and  pastors ;  through 
biblical  stories,  &c. 

^Esthetic  intuitions  are  awakened  by  the  sight  of  beautiful  and  sublime 
objects  of  nature  (stars,  crystals,  sky  and  sea,  rocky  mountains,  landscapes, 
storms,  thunder-showers,  flowers,  trees,  flowing  rivers,  &c.),  and  of  objects 
of  art  (pictures  and  picture  galleries,  statues,  gardens,  products  of  the  poet- 
ical art  and  of  human  speech).  We  can  classify  their  specific  differences, 
calling  them  moral,  aesthetic,  &c.,  but  I  hold  it  better  to  place  them  in  one 
category.  The  strong  moral  law,  equally  binding  upon  all  men,  is  not 
included  in  this  field,  for  its  contents  cannot  be  unconditionally  required. 
That  belongs  to  the  free  beautifully  human  development  which  is  dependent 
upon  conditions  that  are  not  attainable  by  every  one. 

The  so  -called  purely  human  intuitions  are  furnished  by  the  nobly-formed 
human  lives  of  individual  men,  whose  characters  proceed  from  the  strong- 
est conceptions  of  morality  and  duty,  from  sympathetic  affections,  friend- 
ship, love,  compassion,  and  loving  fellowship,  and  other  shining  phenomena 
of  human  life  as  they  are  met  with  in  the  more  refined  development  and 
culture  of  lofty  and  pure  men.  Happy  is  the  child  who  is  in  their  sphere ! 
If  the  home  has  nothing  to  offer  in  this  respect,  it  is  difficult  to  supply  the 
want.  Let  the  teacher  do  what  is  possible  by  the  hold  he  has  upon  the 
school  and  by  all  his  own  manifestations. 

The  social  intuitions,  that  is,  the  social  circumstances  of  men  in  a  large 


200  (MULCT  TKAriiiNr,.    in 

sense,  are  determined  for  the  child  by  the  manifestations  of  the  community 
in  the  schools,  in  the  churches,  in  the  assemblies  of  the  people,  in  public 
festivals,  and  especially  by  the  stories  in  which  the  living  insight  of  the 
teacher  into  the  life  of  states,  peoples,  and  warlike  communities  defines  to 
the  scholar  the  best  living  representations  of  great  deeds. 

Our  early  state's  life,  which  was  domestic .  not  public,  was  an  obstacle  to 
the  growth  of  these  intuitions,  so  important  to  development.  How  can 
he  who  has  experienced  nothing,  understand  history  P  How  can  he  who 
has  not  observed  the  people,  make  a  living  picture  of  its  life  ?  Small  re- 
publics have  a  great  advantage  in  respect  to  the  observation  of  public  life 
and  patriotic  sentiment.  Words,  even  the  most  eloquent,  give  a  very  un- 
satisfactory compensation  for  observation.  The  year  1848  has  in  this  re- 
spect brought  most  important  steps  of  progress. 

Prominent  above  all  other  considerations  is  the  importance  of  the  life, 
the  standpoint,  the  intelligence,  the  character  of  the  teacher,  for  laying  the 
foundation  of  living  observation  in  the  soul,  in  the  mind,  in  the  disposition 
of  the  pupil.  What  the  teacher  does  not  carry  in  his  own  bosom,  he  cr.nnot 
awaken  in  the  bosom  of  another.  It  can  be  compensated  by  nothing  else, 
if  there  is  failure  in  him.  The  teacher  must  himself  have  seen,  observed, 
experienced,  investigated,  lived  and  thought  as  much  as  possible,  and  should 
set  up  a  model  in  moral,  religious,  esthetic,  and  purely  human  and  social 
respects.  So  much  as  he  is,  so  much  is  his  instruction  worth.  He  is  to  his 
pupils  the  most  instructive,  the  most  appreciable,  the  most  striking  object 
of  observation. 

The  Immediate  Aim*  of  Object-teaching. 

Thus  far  we  have  considered  object-teaching  in  its  relations  to  teaching 
in  general.  Now  we  must  turn  our  attention  to  its  immediate  aims.  1st. 
Object-teaching  may  be  made  the  special  means  of  training  the  senses. 
Such  teaching  would  consist  of  exercises  in  observation,  in  order  to  develop 
the  latent  strength  of  each  sense,  that  of  the  eye  in  particular.  2d.  The 
chief  aim  of  object-teaching  may  be  to  develop  forms  of  observation  and 
the  laws  of  thought.  These  exercises  we  may  call  exercises  in  thinking. 
3d.  Object-teaching  may  have  for  its  main  purpose  the  development  of  lan- 
guage, and  all  the  lessons  therein  may  be  exercises  in  speaking  and  writing. 
The  proper  thing  to  do  is  to  unite  sense-training,  thinking,  teaching,  and 
language  exercises,  and  work  them  together,  —  the  great  aim  of  object- 
teaching.  The  training  of  the  senses  lies  at  the  foundation  of  all,  and 
must  be  made  the  chief  means  of  all  teaching. 

But  it  must  be  conceded  that  an  intelligent  guidance  to  right  seeing  and 
hearing  is  a  wonderful  help. 

Thousands  have  eyes  and  see  not ;  ears,  and  hear  not.  Thousands  go 
through  a  museum  and  come  out  none  the  wiser.  They  have  in  fact  seen 
nothing,  because  they  have  not  intelligence.  Observation  without  repre 
sentations  and  conceptions  remain  blind.  Real  exercises  in  observation 
without  exercises  in  thinking  are  an  impossibility.  On  the  other  side, 
exercises  in  thinking  must  work  injuriously  rather  than  usefully  if  they 
have  not  found  in  living  observation  a  fountain  of  unconquerable  interest. 


OBJECT  TEACHING.    BUSSE.  ^01 

And  since  it  is  a  striking  fact  that  no  representation,  no  conception  exists 
without  a  word,  since  we  cannot  think  except  in  language,  thoughtful  ob- 
serving and  observing  thoughtfulness,  in  connection  with  a  continuous 
development  of  the  mother-tongue,  is  the  chief  aim  of  object-teaching.* 

To  this  aim,  as  soon  as  a  child  is  abie  to  write  down  a  proposition,  also 
to  confirm  to  some  extent  what  is  expressed,  which  must  be  reached  to- 
ward the  end  of  the  first  school  year,  two  subordinate  aims  are  allied : 

1.  Preliminary  exercises  in  grammar  in  the  systematic  use  of  cases,  of 
prepositions,  and  of  adverbs  of  time  and  place   hut  above  all  of  word-for- 
mations. 

2.  Exercises  in  composition  by  writing  down   little  groups  of  proposi- 
tions connected  according  to  the  sense. 


II.  THE  METHOD. 

The  chief  laws  of  the  method  are  : 

1.  Instruction  by  actual  inspection. 

Life  wakes  up  life.  The  real  object  is  therefore  to  be  shown  before  the 
picture  of  it,  (if  the  secret  of  life  does  not  work  so  attractively  that  th"  in- 
struction becomes  impossible ;  but  in  the  cas »  of  living  animals,  a  living 
stork  or  dog  in  the  schoolroom  abolishes  the  possibility  of  instruction,  for 
the  interest  of  the  children  is  so  powerful  in  the  iife  itself  that  it  does  not 
objectivate  the  individual  thing,  which  is  thus  forgotten.) 

Amoiii:  pictures,  the  model  takes  the  precedence  of  the  drawing;  among 
the  drawings,  tin-  mlon-d  of  the  shaded;  and  the  shaded  again  are  to  be 
pr«T'-nvil  to  the  linear  d'awinj;. 

Every  object  that  is  spoken  of,  and  aa  their  relations  must  stand  out 
clear  and  defined  before  the  outer  sensuous  and  the  inner  mental  observa- 
tion (or  inspection)  of  the  scholar,  and  on  that  account  must  be  advanced 
from  the  real,  sensuous,  to  the  inner  abstract  inspection. 

There  is  nothing  more  aimless  than  object-teaching  without  actual  obser- 
vation (inspection).  The  instruction  can  first  bear  justly  and  correctly  the 
name  of  object-teaching  and  of  the  intuitive  quality,  when  it  is  based 
upon  the  actual  observation  (inspection)  of  things  or  relations.  What 
many  words  and  long  definitions  will  not  effect,  will  be  effected  by  imme- 
diate observation  (or  inspection). 

Object-teaching,  therefore,  needs  the  beat  use  and  application  of  the 
material  of  observation.  The  kindergarten  justly  uses  little  staff*,  sticks 
of  various  lengths,  cubes  of  various  kinds  of  wood,  building  boxes.  The 
teachers  of  the  lower  classes  in  the  elementary  schools  do  right  to  show 
various  objects,  models  made  of  wood  or  paper,  plants  in  nature,  or  colored 
pictures  of  animals,  plants,  and  human  productions.  Such  apparatus  for 
observation  works  in  the  most  favorable  manner  upon  the  development  of 
the  children.  In  many  ways  the  principle  was  good  in  the  early  object- 
teaching,  but  the  observation  defective ;  they  took  care  to  impart  knowl- 

*  We  turn  wholly  away  from  the  little  speaking-exercises  whieli  figure  as  a  part  of 
the  first  instructions  in  reading,  and  have  only  tho  outward  aim  of  making  clear  and) 
distinct,  individual  sounds,  and  cannot  therefore  argue  with  Luben,  that  object-teaching 
and  the  teaching  of  roading  should  form  an  undivided  whole. 


202  OBJECT   TEACHING.    BUSSE. 

«dge,  but  made  too  many  words,  and  neglected  the  apparatus.  Since  all 
recognition  or  understanding  of  things  proceeds  from  observation,  is 
founded  upon  incentives  to  it,  upon  perceptions  and  inspection,  and  in  the 
mental  work  already  proceeds  from  observations  gained,  it  is  above  aC1 
things  important  that  clear  and  correct  observation  be  attained  by  means 
of  real  things.  An  object-teaching  without  apparatus  for  observation  is 
like  a  house  without  a  foundation. 

Instruct  by  means  of  observation  while  you  are  aiming  at  the  waking  up 
of  the  inner  sense.  As  soon  as  you  have  attained  a  little  whole,  within  an 
hour,  convince  yourself  of  the  condition  of  the  observation  (or  inspection) 
thus  gained,  before  you  put  away  the  object  or  the  picture  of  it,  in  order  to 
let  the  child  re-produce  what  he  has  gained. 

2.  Go  from  the  easy  to  the  difficult. 

a.  Then,  from  the  known  to  the  unknown,  from  the  near  to  the  distant. 
Go  on  and  add  something  to  the  observations  which  you  know  the  child 

has  made,  and  when  you  have  united  all  these  widen  the  image  as  fast  as 
the  comprehensive  power  of  the  child  will  allow  you  to  do  so.  It.  must  uot 
be  a  question  here  of  setting  up  a  special  way  as  a  generally  desirable  one. 
Whether  one  places  the  room  in  the  foreground,  and  passes  out  from  the 
schoolhouse,  in  ever  wider  circles  up  to  the  sky,  with  the  sun,  moon, 
and  stars,  or  whether  one  looks  upon  the  year,  with  its  phenomena,  as  th^ 
nearest  real  thing,  and  adds  to  the  changes  of  the  seasons  the  material 
which  nature  and  culture  offer,  it  is  all  the  same ;  both  may  be  excellent ; 
everything  depends  upon  the  handling. 

b.  Go  from  the  simple  to  the  complex;  then  from  single  objects  to  two 
and  several,  that  the  acts  of  comparison  and  discrimination  may  come  into 
play.     Then  let  more  objects  come  into  the  group.     Groups  form  at  last  a 
collected  image. 

Go  also  in  language  from  the  simple  to  the  complex ;  from  naked  pro- 
position to  the  widened,  connected-compound,  abbreviated  propositions,  &c. 

c.  Go  from  the  concrete  to  the  abstract.     Proceed  from  the  contemplation 
of  the  sensuous  signs,  before  you  draw  upon  the  higher  laws  of  thought. 
Do  not  apply  foundation  and  consequence,  or  even  condition,  if  cause  and 
effect  have  not  previously  been  made  clear. 

Go  first  from  the  real,  then  from  the  possible  and  necessary ;  first  the 
individual  thing,  then  the  particular  thing,  then  the  general  thing. 

3.  Give  in  each  hour,  if  possible,  a  little  whole  in  contents  and  form. 
Work  out  every  lesson  in  writing,  for  only  so  can  you  satisfy  this  kind 

of  instruction  in  which  contents  and  form  are  equally  important  and  must 
develop  themselves  symmetrically ;  thus  only  can  you  know  to  be  perfected 
what  you  have  already  given,  what  you  are  now  giving,  and  what  you  wish 
to  give  next;  then  this  instruction,  like  no  other,  will  show  you  its  forma- 
tive reaction.  But  be  cautious  not  to  overstrain  the  child  in  your  strivings 
to  round  off  and  complete  his  power.  Instruct  according  to  the  nature  of 
the  material,  but  instruct  also  according  to  the  nature  of  the  child. 

4.  Use  poetry  in  the  service  of  this  instruction. 

An  infinite  numjber  of  the  most  beautiful  poems  offer  themselves  as  il 
•pontaneously,  as  flowers  of  contemplation.  You  will  in  years  have  the 


OBJECT   TEACHING.     BUSSE.  203 

richest  variety  ;  and  do  not  forget,  when  you  lay  this  instruction  before  your- 
self and  build  it  up  as  a  whole,  that  it  is  poetry  which  seizes  and  ennobles 
the  man  —  the  whole  man. 

5.    Use  conversation. 

As  to  the  outer  form  of  the  method,  no  instruction  offers  so  much  scope 
for  exciting  richly  compensating  conversation  as  this.  Obviously,  as  in 
every  catechism  (Socratic  method),  there  is  given  back,  from  sentence  to 
sentence,  a  clear  group  of  well-arranged  observations,  in  the  most  naturally 
connected  principles  possible.  Thus  the  teacher  has  the  richest  opportunity 
to  introduce  in  a  living  manner,  from-time  to  time,  little  poems  and  stones. 

III.  IMPORTANT  WRITINGS  AND  AIDS  FOR  OBJECT-TEACHING. 

1.  Easy  Directions  for  Intelligent  Instruction  in  the  German  Language, 
including  Speaking,    Drawing,  Reading  and   Writing,   Observation  by 
Inspection  and  Understanding.     By  W.  HARNISCH.     Breslau,   1839. 

This  pamphlet,  which  is  specially  a  guide  to  the  first  instruction  in  lan- 
guage, belongs  here,  because  it  at  the  same  time  contains  exercises  in 
observation  and  speaking.  The  first  section  of  the  second  part  treats  of 
them:  —  1.  The  beginning  of  this  instruction;  2.  To  know  and  to  name 
objects;  3.  The  counting  of  things;  4.  The  parts  of  things;  5.  Color; 
€.  Form  and  situation ;  7.  Size ;  8.  Sound ;  9.  Feeling,  smell,  and  taste  ; 
10.  Prime  material  of  things,  circumstance,  and  use ;  11.  The  arranging 
and  order  of  things;  12.  Cause  and  effect;  13.  Necessity  and  arbitrari- 
ness, means  and  aims;  14.  Representation  and  sign;  15.  Surroundings 
and  relations  ;  16.  Summary  of  the  foregoing  in  one  whole. 

The  author's  view  of  the  value  and  place  of  this  instruction  may  be  seen 
in  the  following  remarks  : 

"  The  exercises  in  observation  contain  not  merely  many  germs,  which 
may  develop  into  godliness  (religion),  but  almost  the  beginnings  of  all 
other  objects  of  instruction ;  they  form  the  roots  of  instruction.  Think- 
ing especially  cannot  exist  without  them,  and  without  thinking  there  is  no 
instruction  in  language  properly  so  called.  The  exercises  in  observation 
must  there,  as  everywhere,  take  the  precedence  of  exercises  in  thinking 
and  understanding. 

"  Exercises  in  thinking  and  understanding  without  exercises  in  observa- 
tion are  plants  without  roots.  We  see  this  in  common  life.  For  the  more 
man  has  seen  and  experienced,  the  more  all-sided  are  his  thinking-powers ; 
and  all  exercises  in  understanding  which  have  proceeded  only  out  of  the 
forms  of  the  understanding  without  insight  or  reality,  we  are  accustomed 
to  call  by  the  contemptuous  name  of  school-wisdom.1' 

2.  Guide  to  Exercises  in  Thinking  and  Speaking  as  the  Natural  Founda- 
tion for  General  Instruction;  particularly  for  the  First  Instruction  in 
Language  in  the  Peoples  Schools.     By  F.  H.  G.  GRASSMAN.    With  three 
Copperplates.     Second  edition.     Berlin,  1834  :  by  G.  Reimer. 

This  is  a  desirable  treatise  "  upon  the  natural  treatment  of  instruction  in 
language  in  the  people's  schools  ;  and  upon  its  connection  with  the  other 
-subjects  of  instruction  in  these  schools."  We  point  out  the  chief  thoughts 
»R  far  as  they  touch  upon  our  subject. 


204  OBJECT    TEACHING.     BUSSE. 

Reading  is  not  to  be  the  first  or  beginning  of  instruction  in  tin-  schooL 
The  objection  to  this  beginning  is  based  upon  the  aversion  which  children 
have  to  learning  their  letters.  Nature  has  decreed  that  in  the  first  year* 
of  life  the  child  shall  receive  and  picture  to  himself  the  outer  sense-world, 
and  that  the  inner  spiritual  life  shall  be  awakened  by  occupation  with  sen- 
suous things,  till  the  time  comes  when  this  inner  spiritual  life  and  impulse 
shall  be  itself  the  object  of  contemplation.  This  development  by  means  of 
the  outward  world  has  not  ended  when  the  child  enters  the  school. 

The  inner  world  of  representation  needs  an  outer  world  in  which  it  may 
embody  itself — language  or  speech.  The  representation  pictures  itself 
outwardly  by  means  of  the  word,  and  thereby  becomes  a  communicable 
representation,  and  this  representation  first  attains  thereby  its  definite, 
perfected  existence.  By  means  of  language,  the  child  arrives  at  the  intel- 
ligent recognition  of  the  objects  around  him  and  of  their  relations  to  each 
other. 

Writing  is  a  picture  of  speech,  and  by  this  (indirectly)  a  picture  of  the 
inner  representative  world  of  man.*  So  as  man  is  to  learn  to  know  the  pro- 
totype earlier  than  the  image,  especially  if  there  does  not  exist  between 
the  two  a  natural  and  necessary,  but  an  arbitrary  connection  (our  letters 
are  to  be  looked  upon  as  signs  arbitrarily  chosen),  the  child  must  first 
learn  to  speak  before  it  learns  to  read.  If  we  connect  this  with  what  has 
gone  before,  it  follows  that : 

The  first  instruction  in  language  must  consist  of  conversations  which 
make  the  children  acquainted  with  the  things  of  the  outward  world,  their 
properties  and  mutual  relations,  and  give  them  the  opportunity  to  learn  to 
speak  of  them  correctly,  intelligently,  and  significantly. 

These  exercises  in  thinking  and  speaking  are  to  be  the  common  trunk 
from  which  all  oth^r  objects  of  instruction  are  to  branch  out  as  twigs.  In 
regard  to  the  material,  it  must  contain  the  elements  of  all  the  single  objects 
of  the  instruction  ;  in  regard  to  form,  it  must  be  so  arranged,  as  far  as  pos- 
sible, that  the  children  shall  learn  not  merely  parts  of  speech,  but  all  kinds 
of  words,  and  these  in  their  various  forms,  inflections,  derivations,  and 
combinations,  and  in  an  easy  way.  The  language  itself  must  not  be  an 
object  of  contemplation,  but  a  collection  of  words  must  be  made,  out  of 
which  in  future  the  general  rules  and  laws  of  the  language  can  be  developed. 

In  the  arrangement  of  the  material,  the  progress  must  be  in  regular 
steps  from  the  nearer  to  the  more  distant ;  from  the  known  to  the  less 
known,  and  from  this  to  the  quite  unknown ;  from  that  which  falls  directly 
upon  the  senses  to  that  which  is  first  found  by  the  help  of  the  accompany- 
ing activity  of  the  understanding. 

If  the  instruction  in  reading  and  writing  goes  side  by  side  with  this  from 
the  first  entrance  of  the  children  into  the  school,  one  hour  a  day,  or  from 
three  to  four  hours  a  week,  should  be  devoted  to  this  object-instruction. 
CONTENTS  :  1.  Names  of  things ;  2.  Whole,  and  parts  of  the  whole ;  3. 
Number  of  things  ;  4.  Place,  position,  attitude  ;  5.  Light,  color ;  6.  Form  ; 
7.  Size;  8.  Direction;  9.  Sound;  10.  Perceptions  by  feeling,  smell,  and 
taste;  11.  Rest  and  motion ;  12.  Connection  of  things  ;  13.  Time. 

The  whole  is  brought  out  partly  in  a  catechetical  way.  partly  by  prin- 


OIMKCT   TEACHING.      BUSSE.  205 

ciples,  which  are  to  be  discovered  by  the  developing  conversation.  This  is 
a  model  work  and  a  master-work,  —  actual  head-work,  the  most  advanced 
course  of  teaching-exercises  in  observation  and  experience  to  be  found  in 
our  literature  (of  the  present  time).  No  teacher  should  be  without  it. 

But  whether  the  whole  can  be  carried  out  in  the  elementary  school,  as 
the  majority  of  these  schools  now  are,  we  doubt ;  indeed,  our  verdict  is 
against  it.  There  must  be  rarely  favorable  circumstances  secured,  if  a 
teacher,  as  the  Professor  hopes,  shall  be  able  to  carry  the  child  through 
this  course  by  the  end  of  the  ninth  year  of  his  age.  We  must  apply  the 
wise  view  which  the  author  makes  apparent  for  the  carrying  out  of  his 
opinion  upon  instruction  in  language,  and  also  upon  these  exercises  in 
speaking  and  thinking.  He  says  :  "  Many  weighty  and  well-founded  recol- 
lections and  doubts  recur  to  the  mind,  which,  in  view  of  the  reality  of  exist- 
ing relations  of  life,  and  of  prevailing  and  dominant  customs,  opinions,  and 
judgments  of  the  present  generation,  may  easily  be  advanced,  and  are  well 
known  to  every  practical  schoolman.  No  one  can  feel  it  more  keenly  than 
I  do,  or  know  it  better  than  I  do ;  as  it  is  on  account  of  the  well-founded 
existence  of  such  recollections  of  long  standing  that  I  require,  before  the 
introduction  of  this  plan,  the  condition  that  it  shall  be  freed  from  all  the 
limitations  which  arise  out  of  the  present  condition  of  things." 

But  with  full  conviction  we  agree  with  the  following  opinions  : 

"  In  view  of  the  plan  which  we  introduce,  it  is  of  the  highest  importance 
that  we  carry  in  our  souls  an  ideal  of  every  occupation  which  one  has  to 
execute,  of  every  office  which  is  to  be  filled,  how  it  should  be  done,  and 
how  it  would  be  done,  if  every  hindrance  and  disturbance  were  out  of  the 
way,  and  if  every  power  which  is  brought  into  play  worked  as  perfectly  as  it 
can  by  virtue  of  its  nature.  To  let  such  an  ideal  enter  wholly  into  life  as  its 
guide,  rarely  ever  happens,  since  the  reality  of  life  meets  it  at  every  step  and 
on  every  side,  limiting  and  destroying  its  influence  ;  yet  the  strivings  of 
those  who  wish  to  better  things  must  have  their  roots  in  the  ideal,  and 
must  find  in  it  the  goal  of  their  activity.  For  whoever  carries  it  within 
his  breast,  and  seeks  to  approach  it  more  and  more,  as  far  as  circumstances 
and  relations  permit  him  to  do  so,  takes  care  so  to  arrange  and  form  every 
individual  influence  that  it  may  correspond  to  the  image  before  him,  and 
thus  prepare  for  the  future  presentation  of  the  whole,  and  he  seizes  every 
opportunity  to  form  in  others  the  correct  view  of  this  subject.  He  thus 
brings  insight  and  skill  into  all  his  acts,  while  he  who  has  not  such  a  goal 
before  his  eyes  cannot,  with  all  his  best  efforts,  and  the  most  indefatigable 
industry,  demand  the  best  thing  of  himself,  and  often  loses  it." 

This  course  of  instruction  is  to  be  contemplated  as  such  an  ideal  for  the 
elementary  schools  in  general.  Would  that  the  teachers  might  comprehend 
it  in  its  essence,  and  approach  it  in  fact  and  truth !  The  most  earnest  study 
of  this  work  is  just  what  is  needed  for  the  elementary  method. 

But  for  those  teachers  who  are  obliged  to  limit  themselves  to  a  less 
thorough  course  of  thinking  and  speaking  exercises,  we  recommend  the 
following  works  (certainly  with  a  few  exceptions)  of  Fuhr  &  Ortmann.  On 
account  of  the  necessary  attention  to  the  existing  state  of  things  every- 
where, with  rare  exceptions,  we  have  placed  the  aim  and  the  standard  of 


206  OBJECT  TEACHING.     BUSSE. 

these  exercises  lower,  in  order  that  the  attempts  made  to  realize  them  shall 
be  really  successful. 

3.  Instruction  in  the  Little  Children's  School ;  or,  the  Beginning  of  In- 
struction and  Formation  in  the  People's  Schools.     Fourth  improved  edi- 
tion.    Bielefeld,  1845.     Published  by  Belhagen  &  Klasing. 

This  pamphlet  proposes  a  course  of  instruction :  (1)  which  is  throughout 
practical  and  easily  applied ;  (2)  which  chooses  its  material  out  of  the  imme- 
diate surroundings  of  the  school-children,  and  avoids  all  costly  and  foreign 
apparatus  ;  (3)  it  is  worked  out  with  the  utmost  clearness  and  perspicacity, 
so  that  it  will  easily  enable  every  teacher  to  introduce  the  exercises  in  ob- 
servation and  speaking  into  the  school. 

Contents  of  the  First  Section.  Knowledge  of  Objects  in  the  School-Room. 
—  1st  Exercise  :  Naming  and  describing  these  objects.  2d  Ex. :  Compar- 
ison and  discrimination.  3d  Ex. :  Contemplation  of  definite  bodies. 

Second  Section.  First  Elements  of  Natural  History  and  Domestic  Econ- 
omy. —  1st  Ex. :  The  human  body.  2d  Ex. :  The  plants  of  the  home  gar- 
den. 3d  Ex. :  Domestic  animals.  4th  Ex. :  The  house.  5th  Ex. :  The- 
dwelling.  6th  Ex. :  The  elements. 

Third  Section.     Preliminary  Exercise  in  Drawing  and  Writing. 

Fourth  Section.     Instruction  in  Reading. 

Fifth  Section.     Beginning  of  Arithmetic. 

Sixth  Section.     Beginning  of  Instruction  in  Singing. 

Seventh  Section.    Exercises  in  Memory  or  Tunes  for  Head  and  Heart. 

Eighth  Section.  Furthering  Instruction,  and  School  Aims  in  general. 

The  individual  exercises  are  offered  not  in  the  catechetical,  but  in  a  more- 
familiar  form ;  methodical  remarks,  hints,  and  views  are  given  in  them. 

In  consonance  with  the  above-mentioned  didactic  rules,  the  objects  are 
not  to  be  treated  according  to  the  common  conceptions  of  size,  form,  color, 
number,  &c.,  but  every  subject  according  to  its  own  peculiarities,  or  elemen- 
tarily, or,  as  Herr  Griibe  says,  organically.  (See  Griibe's  Inst.  in  Arith.) 

4.  Methodical  Guide  for  Exercises  in  the  Cultivation  of  Language  in  the 
Lower  Class  of  the  Elementary  School.     By  C.  G.  EHRLICH,  Director  of 
the  Seminary  of  Soest,  in  Nassau.     Second  improved  edition,  1839.     Fr. 
Heischer,  in  Leipzig. 

The  author  shares  with  others  the  view  that  reflection  and  the  art  of 
speaking  must  be  awakened  and  stimulated  specially  in  the  lower  class  of 
the  elementary  school,  since  the  neglect  of  a  deep,  firm  foundation  for  it 
during  the  whole  school  season,  can  never  be  made  good  afterwards ;  but 
he  differs  from  other  writers  and  teachers  upon  the  subject  ia  thinking  that 
the  exercises  in  speaking  should  be  exercises  in  the  language  itself.  Authors 
before  mentioned  give  precedence  to  exercises  in  speaking,  observation, 
and  thinking,  and  postpone  those  in  language,  but  employ  the  thinking  and 
speaking  powers  upon  the  materials  of  the  surrounding  world.  Herr 
Ehrlich  also  agrees  in  this  when  he  adds  his  exercises  upon  the  immediate 
experiences  and  observations  of  the  child ;  but  he  takes  into  consideration. 
in  this  the  knowledge  of  language,  in  what  way  will  become  clear  when  we 


OBJECT  TEACHING.     BUSSE.  207 

point  out  the  chief  contents  of  his  treatise,  and  sketch  the  characteristic 
signs  of  this  treatment  of  the  material.  The  book  is  divided  into  twf 
parts,  the  theoretical  and  practical. 

First  Part.  Aim  and  requisitions  of  the  exercises  in  language  in  tht- 
lower  class.. 

Second  Part.     Examples : 

(1)  The  elementary  school  is  to  rise  up  from  below. 

(2)  Exercises  in  language  the  special  means. 

(3)  Extent  of  the  same. 

(4)  Comparison  between  the  conversation  of  the  mother  and  the  teacher. 

(5)  Chief  requisites  of  such  exercises :    a,  Course  of  teaching,  and  of 
some  material ;  6,  Preface  to  the  conversation ;  c,  General  choice  of  the 
material ;  d,  Language  of  the  teacher ;  e,  Superintendence  of  the  conversa- 
tion ;  y,  Means  of  exciting  emulation ;  g,  Outward  arrangements. 

The  knowledge  of  the  forms  of  speech  (in  a  practical  way)  in  which  it  i«- 
brought  to  the  consciousness  of  the  children,  leads  the  author  into  the 
consideration  of  the  contents  and  order. 

He  gives  his  view  in  the  following  precepts,  which  are  worth  considering  : 

First.  "  If  you  lead  the  child  to  thoughtful  seeing,  you  do  much  more  for 
him  than  if  you  bring  him  forward  in  reading  and  writing.  His  reading 
and  writing  without  thinking  are  worthless.  Men  make  the  least  use  of 
these  arts  "  (is  it  not  so  ?)  "  but  a  really  seeing  eye,  a  really  hearing  ear, 
and  a  thinking  mind,  every  one  needs  every  moment  of  his  life."  (Does  it 
injure  thousands,  nay,  millions  of  men  to  read?)  "  1.  Because  they  do  not 
use  this  art  very  generally  in  life,  or  they  unlearn  it  again  even  when  they 
have  once  learned  it  in  the  regular  way.  2.  Because  the  books  which  are 
put  into  their  hands  contain  much  that  is  useless,  much  that  is  untrue,  dis- 
torted ;  obsolete  views,  superstitious  opinions,  &c.  Hence  there  are  re- 
gions in  Germany  where  learning  to  read  is  of  questionable  advantage  ;  for 
it  may  be  used  for  the  planting  and  sustaining  of  superstition  and  similar 
perverseness."  (Why  not  also  for  the  destruction  of  the  same  ;  and  why 
does  Catholicism  strive  against  the  common-school  law?)  "For  it  is  not  by 
reading  that  man  cultivates  himself.  It  depends  upon  what  he  reads, 
and  his  capability  of  reading  with  understanding." 

Second.  "  The  effect  upon  the  cultivation  of  the  mind  of  learning  to  speak 
is  very  clear,  for  the  following  reasons  :  By  knowing  the  names  of  things, 
and  of  their  properties,  the  attention  is  often  for  the  first  time  drawn  to  the 
things  themselves.  In  the  same  manner,  also  'by  the  varieties  of  the  names 
to  the  varieties  of  the  things ;  for  instance,  the  different  kinds  of  the  color 
of  green  —  grass-green,  mountain-green,  apple-green,  finch-green,  bottle- 
green,  bronze-green,  sea-green,  &c.  Also,  by  means  of  language  our  atten- 
tion is  drawn  in  early  childhood  from  lower  to  higher  conceptions,  (for 
instance,  '  The  goose  is  a  bird.')  By  naming  these,  we  hold  firmly  in  the 
mind  representations  and  conceptions  of  things,  and  learn  to  think  in  lan- 
guage." 

Second  Part.  This  portion  of  the  book  is  the  most  important,  viz. :  The 
Examples.  (1)  Conversations  with  children  from  six  to  seven  years  of 


208  OBJECT  TEACHING.     BUSSE. 

age  :  two  conversations  with  new-comers ;  the  surroundings  in  the  schooi- 
room  ;  handwork  ;  the  kitchen  ;  domestic  animals  ;  words  of  endearment 
(diminutives)  ;  abstract  conceptions  ;  single  verbs. 

(2)  Conversations  with  the  whole  lower  class,  or  with  children  from 
seven  to  ten  years.  Preparation  of  the  teacher  for  exercises  in  speaking. 

These  conversations  are  rich  in  instruction :  1.  Because  they  are  so  com- 
municated, not  as  if  they  were  written  out  before  the  hour,  but  as  if  they 
were  really  held  in  the  school  of  the  seminary  by  the  author.  2.  Because 
they  are  to  be  looked  upon  as  a  model  in  a  wide  sense  of  the  word  (not 
like  the  asses-bridge,  to  be  used  slavishly).  Herr  Ehrlich  is  a  master  in 
conversation  with  children.  Therefore  this  book  is  a  gift  to  be  thankful 
for.  Having  proceeded  from  the  very  soil  of  the  school,  in  the  strongest 
sense  of  the  word,  the  teacher  can  learn  from  it  how  to  make  living  and  in- 
structive conversation  with  children,  since  an  old  master  has  done  it  before 
him.  Remarks  which  join  the  single  examples  unite  the  second  part  of 
the  book  with  the  first,  and  the  results  following  each  talk  given  in  a 
review  show  what  should  be  reached  in  the  single  talks. 

The  author  believes,  as  we  do,  in  the  use  of  signs.  A  wave  of  the  right 
hand  means  that  all  the  scholars  shall  speak ;  a  circular  motion  with  the 
left  hand  (a  zero)  a  full  answer.  To  wink  means  repeat  the  whole.  We 
hope  the  reader  will  not  consider  these  as  puerilities. 

We  are  sorry  that  want  of  space  forbids  us  laying  before  the  reader 
one  of  these  instructive  conversations,  with  all  its  outward  and  inward  in- 
trospections ;  but  we  recommend  this  thoroughly  practical  treatise. 

6.  Ouide  to  the  Principles  of  Education  and  Instruction.  By  DENZEL. 
Third  Part,  First  Division,  First  Course :  Object-Teaching  for  Children 
from  6  to  8  Years  of  Age.  Stuttgart:  Mezler,  1828.  Third  edition. 

The  distinguishing  or  discriminating  character  of  this  course  consists  in 
the  author's  connecting  the  religious  with  the  material  and  formal  points 
of  view,  that  is,  the  exercises  in  observation  or  introspection  have  the  dis- 
tinct aim  of  undertaking  to  develop  the  religious  consciousness.  The 
author's  caution  and  circumspection  are  well  known. 

6.  SCHLOTTERBECK  :  Theoretical  and  Practical  Handbook  for  the  Instruc- 
tion of  the  First  School  Year.  For  Teachers  and  Female  Educators  just 
beginning.  1.  Domestic  Science  in  the  First  School  Year.  2.  First  In- 
struction in  Language,  Reading  and  Writing.  3.  Exercises  for  the 
Cultivation  of  the  Senses.  — Wismar,  Rostock,  and  Ludwigsluft.  Pub- 
lication house  of  the  Hinstorff  bookstore.  1868. 

We  have  here  a  work  of  great  industry,  arising  out  of  a  deep  interest  in 
the  cause.  Just  on  account  of  its  one-sidedness,  it  has  an  effect  upon  the 
present  time.  It  follows  Schlotterbeck  in  recommending  "  gymnastics  of 
the  senses  "  for  the  people's  school,  and  at  the  end  the  "  introduction  of 
Froebel's  kindergarten  into  the  elementary  classes."  The  views  taken  from 
Schlotterbeck  are  the  following : 

1.  The  chief  aim  of  object-teaching  is  the  cultivation  of  the  senses  and 
of  formal  nature. 

"  What  object-teaching  has  hitherto  striven  for  is  not  to  be  reached  by 


OBJECT  TEACHING.     BUSSE.  209 

the  means  of  the  exercises  proposed.  It  is  only  exercises  of  the  senses, 
-which  are  designed  to  give  them  a  greater  perfection  for  the  correct  com- 
prehension of  the  outward  world,  and  to  assist  the  mind  of  the  child  in  its 
development  through  its  perceptions. 

"The  cultivation  of  the  senses  is  to  strengthen  and  support  the  whole 
instruction  by  giving  efficiency  to  the  organs  of  observation,  and  by  the 
reception  of  new  observations  in  the  child's  mind." 

2.  Object-teaching  must  move  in  the  field  of  the  world  of  the  senses, 
and  adjust  it. 

3.  For  this  aim  the  objects  must  be  brought  to  the  children's  view  in  their 
naked  reality,  and  be  treated  objectively  throughout. 

4.  The  representation  of  the  object  observed  must  also  have  its  rights 
It  gives  the  best  proof  of  the  correctness  of  the  comprehension  of  it. 

5.  What  has  been  observed  can  be  represented  by  language. 

6.  What  has  been  observed  can  also  be  represented  in  a  plastic  form. 

7.  By  the  cultivation  of  the  organs  of  the  senses,  and  by  the  plastic  rep- 
resentation of  the  object,  more  is  done  for  widening  the  child's  circle  of 
representation  than  by  the  most  searching  exercises. 

8.  Therefore,  we  desire  to  have  cultivation  of  the  senses  in  the  school, 
and  for  the  elementary  class  in  especial,  first,  a  yearly  course  of  from  four 
to  five  hours  a  week,  which  we  designate  by  the  once  common  name  of  object- 
teaching.     After  that  time  let  it  cease,  not  because  the  cultivation  of  the 
senses  is  then  looked  upon  as  perfected,  but  because  it  can  be  carried  on 
at  home,  and  the  further  instruction  in  the  school  must  undertake  wider 
culture. 

9.  Object-teaching  does  not  exclude  exercises  in  language  ;  but  these 
must  not  be  the  chief  aim. 

10.  Object-teaching  need  not  be  looked  upon  as  the  foundation  of  in- 
struction in  physics. 

11.  Religious  knowledge,  so  far  as  it  allows  itself  to  be  mediated  by  ob- 
servation, does  not  belong  to  the  domain  of  object-teaching.     Object-teach- 
ing must  be  allowed  to  take  the  precedence  of  the  religious  element  as 
little  as  of  the  instruction  in  language  or  natural  science.     It  must  move 
according  to  its  nature  on  the  domain  of  the  sense-world,  and  fails  wholly 
in  its  aim  if  the  religious  element  is  not  the  chief  object. 

12.  Object-teaching  must  not  aim  at  clothing  the  material  in  a  poetic 
form.     "  This  would  stand  in  direct  opposition  to  its  aim.     By  object-teach- 
ing the  comprehension  of  the  world  of  sense  is  indirectly  imparted,  the 
correct  relation  between  cause  and  effect,  foundation  and  superstructure, 
life  and  death,  is  established,  therefore  the  objects  must  be  brought  before 
the  child  in  their  naked  reality,  and  be  treated  objectively  by  the  teacher 
throughout.     The  living  sense  of  the  child  will  lay  in  poetry  of  itself,  and 
abundantly  enough  where  the  ripened  understanding  sees  only  dead  and  cold 
material.     Real  poetry  lies  in  nature  itself,  and  is  therefore  given  out  by  it 
at  the  same  time  wiih  the  objective  comprehension." 

The  course  of  teaching  planned  on  the  above  principles  is  divided  into 
three  sections : 

1.  Cultivation  of  the  eye  by  the  color,  form  and  position,  size  and  dis- 
tance, of  bodies. 


210  OBJECT    TEACHING.    BUSSE. 

2.  Cultivation  of  the  ear  by  exercises  in  time  and  hearing. 

3.  Cultivation  of  feeling  by  direct  exercises  in  the  cultivation  of  the 
senses  of  touch  and  taste  ;  and  by  exercises  for  attaining  a  greater  security 
and  solidity  of  the  body,  namely,  by  strengthening  the  limbs. 

This  treatise  is  in  quite  the  spirit  of  Froebel.  The  author  plans  the 
exercises  which  Froebel  had  chiefly  intended  for  the  kindergarten  for  the 
first  school-year  of  the  elementary  class.  They  are  as  excellent  for  the  kin- 
dergarten, where  they  have  proved  themselves  so  well  adapted  for  the  cul- 
tivation of  the  senses  and  the  development  of  the  mind,  as  they  are  out 
of  place  in  the  school.  Here  the  ground-principle  must  be  firmly  estab- 
lished ;  the  culture  of  the  senses  must  be  aimed  at  with  suitable  material* 
To  aim  at  merely  formal  culture  lies  outside  of  it.  What  cultivation  of  the 
uenses  is  to  be  reached  in  the  school  must  come  out  of  the  contemplation  of 
the  objects  of  the  object-teaching,  primarily  out  of  the  contemplation  of  nat- 
ural bodies.  From  them  the  child  learns  their  "  colors,  forms,  and  varie- 
ties," and  every  intelligent  teacher  goes  back  from  this  to  ground  colors  and 
ground  forms.  By  the  "  quantities  n  the  instruction  in  arithmetic  makes- 
known  the  theory  of  forms  and  the  instruction  in  drawing.  For  "  cultiva- 
tion of  the  eye  "  the  instruction  is  given  by  writing,  drawing,  scientific,  geo- 
graphical, and  mathematical  observation;  for  "cultivation  of  the  ear,"  in- 
struction in  speaking,  reading,  and  singing  ;  for  "  cultivation  of  the  hand,'* 
writing,  drawing,  and  handwork.  Hence  it  happens  that  a  great  part  of 
these  exercises  in  our  full  school  classes  are  not  practicable,  as,  for  exam- 
ple, the  coloring  of  pictures,  the  cutting  of  paper,  the  building  with  cubes, 
the  plaiting  with  strips  of  paper,  the  folding  of  paper,  the  pricking  of  fig- 
ures, the  clay  work,  whittling  of  wood,  the  observation  of  forms  of  things 
at  different  distances  and  in  different  positions,  &c.  It  is  impossible  for  a 
teacher  to  watch  all  these  exercises,  and  prevent  the  dangerous  use  of  col- 
ors, scissors,  knives,  pricking-needles,  &c. 

Besides  this,  the  author  places  little  value  upon  the  spoken  statement,  but 
would  use  the  exercises  in  language  chiefly  for  the  instruction  in  reading. 
But  if  the  object-teaching  is  to  sharpen  the  senses,  and  thereby  excite  the 
attention,  it  must  also  assist  the  development  of  language.  Observation 
enchains  and  quickens  the  thinking  power,  and  brings  the  judgment  to  the 
tongue,  which  fastens  the  same  in  a  word.  When  the  children  have  been- 
accustomed  by  the  object-teaching  to  see  sharply  and  precisely  the  things 
brought  to  their  contemplation  and  description,  and,  where  the  opportunity 
offers,  also  to  hear  distinctly  and  feel  strikingly,  the  school  certainly  offers 
all  it  can  to  satisfy  just  claims. 

But  the  author  is  of  the  opinion  that  salvation  lies  only  in  Froebel,  whose- 
play-school  must  go  into  the  people's  school.  We  can  look  upon  this  only 
as  a  pedagogic  error.  For  the  gymnastics  of  the  senses,  life  must  do  the 
best,  not  the  school-room  with  its  bare  walls.  Finally,  why  shall  we  not 
use  the  tongue  and  the  nose  as  chemistry  does  ?  At  the  Vienna  Exposition 
we  really  saw  a  whole  series  of  innocent,  variously  smelling,  and  tasting, 
apparatus  for  object-teaching,  designed  for  the  elementary  school. 

We  cannot  recommend  the  work  for  the  object-teaching  we  defend,  how- 
ever dear  it  may  be  to  FroebePs  scholars,  who  will  find  much  in  it  that  i* 
stimulating. 


OBJECT  TEACHING.    BUSSE.  211 

7.  Theoretical  and  Practical  Handbook  for  Object-teaching,  with  particu- 
lar reference  to  Elementary  Instruction  in  Physics.     Frederick  Harder 
Altona,  1867.     Four  editions. 

• 

A  book  of  such  significant  compass,  which  has  lived  through  four  edi- 
tions in  twelve  years,  must  have  some  value.  This  value  lies  in  the  correct 
and  practical  observations  from  which  the  author  proceeds,  and  which  he 
develops  into  a  guide  systematically  executed,  as  well  as  rich  and  various 
in  the  material  offered  for  the  instruction. 

He  gives  the  key  to  his  work  in  the  title.  He  is  of  the  opinion  that 
object-teaching,  whose  centre  must  be  sought  in  physics,  is  not  to  be  fin- 
ished in  the  elementary  class,  and  on  that  account  adds  :  1.  A  course  which 
shall  give,  after  object-instruction  proper,  a  second  course,  also  designed  for 
the  underpinning,  which  works  out  the  elements  of  physics  with  the  scholars 
who  have  been  mentally  strengthened  by  object-teaching  (in  the  space  of 
another  half-year).  • 

This  course  of  instruction  is  essentially  the  well-known  one.  The  author 
begins  with  the  first  conversation  of  the  teacher  with  the  fresh  elementary 
scholars,  then  passes  into  the  school  with  its  contents,  speaks  of  the  same 
to  the  whole  and  to  individuals,  introduces  comparisons  of  things  in  the. 
school-room,  passes  to  the  people  in  the  school,  then  considers  the  school-- 
house and  teachers'  dwelling-house,  the  occupants  of  the  parental  house,  the- 
dwelling-place,  buildings,  squares,  streets,  inhabitants.  The  sections,  which  ^ 
make  the  specialty  of  the  work,  treat  very  practically  of  men,  animals,  and 
the  plant  world,  and  contain  a  preparation  of  instruction  in  geography  and 
natural  science.  The  work  recommends  itself  by  specially  rich  and  richly- 
suggestive  material,  arranged  in  suitable  sequence  on  methodical  principles. 
The  author  is  of  the  opinion  that  this  instruction  stands  independently 
and  is  to  be  stretched  over  the  whole  school  life. 

8.  Principles  and  Course  of  Teaching  for  Instruction  in  Speaking  and 
Heading.    AUGUST  LUBEN,  Germany,  Director  in  Bremen.    Third  im- 
proved edition.     Leipzig,  1868. 

Liiben's  writings  should  be  intelligently  studied  by  every  elementary 
teacher. 

The  practice  of  the  author  to  connect  object-teaching  with  reading  and 
writing  is  well  known.  Richter  has  energetically  protested  against  this 
union,  and  we  indorse  the  protest,  while  we  think  that  the  exercises  in 
speaking,  known  to  all,  and  which  smooth  the  path  to  the  sounding  of  thf» 
letters  (lautiren),  do  not  take  the  place  of  the  object-teaching  proper.  Al- 
though the  author  does  not  consider  merely  the  exercises  in  speaking,  but 
also  those  in  language,  yet  the  object-teaching,  which  has  its  own  aims  and 
course,  is  not  justly  estimated. 

The  aim  of  object-teaching  Liiben  also  discusses  briefly : 

1.  To  practise  the  child  in  correct  seeing  and  contemplation. 

2.  To  enrich  the  powers  of  his  understanding  with  worthy  representation^ 

3.  To  cultivate  his  judgment. 

4.  To  increase  his  readiness  in  language. 


OBJECT    TEACHING.    BUSSE. 

Many  good  things  are  given  in  the  examples,  and  the  little  treatise, 
which,  on  account  of  its  authorship,  is  an  authority  in  the  domain  of  instruc- 
tion in  the  mother-tongue,  is  worth  reading. 

9.  Object -teach  ing  in  the  Elementary  Schools.    Represented  according  to 
its  Aims,  its  Place,  and  its  Means.    By  CARL  RICHTEE.   Crowned  prize- 
work.     Leipzig,  1869. 

This  treatise  is  a  rich  accession  to  the  literature  upon  object-teaching. 
In  a  theoretic  point  of  view  it  is  the  best  work  which  exists  upon  that  sub- 
ject. By  the  ideal  which  Richter  would  realize  in  object-teaching,  he  will 
gain  many  opponents  without  injury  to  the  various  opinions  in  practice. 
The  work  should  be  known  to  every  elementary  teacher,  although  it  is  only 
theoretical.  Cultivation  of  the  senses  is  one  chief  thing  with  the  author. 
Schlotterbeck  seems  to  have  excited  him  much.  It  is  now  generally  the 
laudable  endeavor  to  enlarge  the  material  of  observation  for  the  elementary 
classes  as  far  as  it  is  practicable,  although  on  the  other  side  the  limit  can 
easily  be  passed  which  protects  it  from  extravagance. 

The  rich  contents  of  the  book  consist  of  a  guide,  three  sections,  and  a 
review.  The  guide  contains  historical  matter  upon  object-teaching,  concep- 
tion of  essence  of  observation,  relation  of  observation  to  language,  and 
importance  of  observation  to  the  mental  life. 

1.  The  first  section  speaks  of  the  task  of  object-teaching,  and  paragraphs 
have  the  following  titles :  Condition  of  the  Child's  Mind  before  the  School 
Age ;  the  School  and  its  First  Task ;  Cultivation  of  Observation  in  Gen- 
eral;  Scientific  (real)  Culture ;  Cultivation  of  the  Senses;  Cultivation  of 
Language ;  Moral  and  Religious  Culture  ;  Choice  and  Arrangements  of  the 
Objects  for  Object-teaching. 

2.  The  second  section  treats  of  the  place  of  object-teaching,  and  is  di- 
vided into  four  paragraphs :  Rejection  of  Object-teaching ;  Isolated  Place 
of  Object-teaching ;  Connection  of  Object-teaching  with  Reading  and  Writ- 
ing ;  the  Vogel-Method. 

3.  The  third  section  speaks  of  the  means  of  object-teaching,  and  treats 
of  the  position  of  Objects  of  Instruction  in  Nature,  Models  and  Pictures, 
Drawing  and  Measuring. 

This  work  contains  no  finished  programme  of  object-teaching,  but  is  a 
•work  upon  that  subject  which  cannot  be  read  without  lively  interest,  and 
•which  treats  with  extraordinary  clearness  the  question  of  object-teaching, 
its  place  in  other  courses,  and  the  means  requisite  for  carrying  it  out 
It  will  be  of  lasting  use,  and  is  urgently  recommended. 

10.  Object-teaching.    Its  History,  its  Place  in  the  Elementary  School,  and 
its  Methodical  Treatment.    By  W.  AEMSTROFF.    Langensalza,  1869. 

This  is  also  a  theoretical  treatise  of  the  same  general  character  with  that 
of  Richter,  but  not  so  exhaustive.  It  recommends  itself  to  the  teacher  by  its 
simplicity  and  clearness.  Object-teaching  is,  with  this  author,  that  instruction 
of  the  elementary  classes  in  which  single  things  are  taken  from  the  nearest  sur- 
roundings of  the  pupils,  observed  by  the  senses,  described,  and  thus  brought 
to  their  comprehension.  It  must  not  be  confounded  with  "  instruction  by 


OBJECT  TEACHING.      BUSSE.  213 

observation."  And  it  must  not  be  considered  identical  with  exercises  m 
thinking  and  speaking,  with  domestic  economy,  cosmology,  and  useful  com- 
mon knowledge.  All  these  subjects  are  kindred,  but  not  in  congruity. 

In  his  statement  of  the  historical  development  of  this  instruction  upon 
topics,  the  author  goes  back  to  Luther's  and  Melancthon's  efforts,  and  draws 
treasures  from  the  labors  — 

1.  Of  Bacon:  "Everything  depends  upon  our  never  turning  the  eyes  of 
the  mind  from  things  themselves  and  their  images  just  as  they  are  absorbed 
into  us." 

2.  Of  Comenius :  "  The  first  connection  of  the  thing  with  the  knowl- 
edge of  language." 

3.  Of  the  Philanthropist :  "  The  culture  of  the  understanding  must  pro- 
ceed from  actual  inspection ;  Physics  (ftealieri)  must  be  the  chief  objects  of 
fundamental  teaching." 

4.  From  Pestalozzi :  "  Observation  is  the  foundation  of  all  knowledge." 
After  discussing  these  historical  points,  treatises  which  exclusively  pursue 

the  formal  aim  of  development,  for  which  the  material  need  not  be  too  vari- 
ous, he  goes  on  to  the  exercises  in  understanding  and  thinking  of  Zerrener, 
Erause,  Grassman,  and  finishes  with  Graser,  Diesterweg,  Wurst,  Scholz, 
and  Hariisch,  who  combated  the  connection  between  the  formal  and  scien- 
tific principle. 

The  mission  of  object-teaching  is  fully  shown  by  the  psychological  devel- 
opment. It  is  designed  to  raise  the  observations  and  representations  al- 
ready in  hand  with  the  children  into  clearness,  order,  and  consciousness,  so 
as  to  help  the  pupils  to  a  wealth  of  intuitions  at  the  same  time  that  they 
are  using  their  senses  j  to  excite  their  self-activity,  and  accustom  them  to  a 
habit  of  attention ;  and  out  of  the  intuitions  gained  to  develop  conceptions, 
judgments,  &c.,  and  thereby  to  sharpen  the  understanding,  put  them  in 
possession  of  book  language,  cultivate  their  sensibilities,  and  prepare  them 
for  instruction  in  science  (real).  As  means  of  object-teaching  the  author 
designates,  chiefly,  nature,  man,  God.  He  urges  original,  direct  observa- 
tion, and  only  where  the  means  for  this  are  not  present,  or  in  natura,  does 
he  recommend  pictures. 

The  treatise  answers  the  following  questions  : 

1.  Where  is  the  origin  of  object-teaching  to  be  sought,  and  how  has  it 
developed  itself  in  the  course  of  time  ? 

2.  Wherein  consists  the  problem  of  object- teaching? 

3.  What  place  in  instruction  shall  it  take  ? 

4.  By  what  means  are  the  aims  which  it  pursues  to  be  reached  P 
While  Richter  makes  object-teaching  the  all-ruling  centre  in  the  pro- 
gramme, Armstroff  confines  himself  to  Liiben's  point  of  view,  with  whom 
object-teaching,  reading,  and  writing,  are  to  be  united  into  one  whole. 
Armstrongs  work  is  worth  reading  next  to  Richter's. 

11.    Theoretico-pradical  Guide  to  Object-teaching  for  Elementary  Teachers 
and  Parents.    By  CARL  DAMBECK,  School  Director.    Hamburg,  1869. 

A  parallel  treatise  with  Richter's,  but  very  valuable  practically. 

It  is  divided  into  two  parts,  a  theoretic,  and  a  practical  part.     In  the 


214  OBJECT  TEACHING.     BUSSE. 

theoretic  part  the  author  speaks  of  the  aim,  the  method,  the  teacher,  and 
the  apparatus  for  object-teaching,  which  is  with  him  the  fundamental  and 
preparatory  instruction  for  the  other  branches. 

The  practical  part  treats  of  the  collection,  grouping,  and  distribution  cf  the 
material.  The  author  closes  with  a  sketch  of  a  methodical  course  of  object- 
teaching  for  two  years. 

The  first  course  for  children  from  six  to  eight  years  of  age  groups  the 
material  for  the  four  years  which  are  to  be  used  as  designated. 

The  second  course  arranges  the  material  for  children  between  eight  and 
nine,  according  to  psychological  development  and  the  branches  of  instruc- 
tion; it  also  serves  as  preparation  for  instruction  in  language,  for  mathe- 
matics, the  natural  sciences,  geography,  history,  religion,  with  much  refer- 
ence to  the  capability  of  the  children.  It  is  hence  made  a  material  which 
for  the  greater  part  can  be  used  in  the  middle  course. 

In  conclusion,  the  author  enumerates  the  material  of  the  instruction 
which  is  necessary  for  the  success  of  this  department ;  namely,  models, 
mathematical  bodies,  a  collection  of  the  most  important  coins,  the  measures 
and  weights  of  the  country,  minerals,  fresh  or  dried  plants,  the  fruits  and 
seeds  of  the  most  important  plants,  animals  either  stuffed  or  preserved  in 
spirits,  products  of  industry,  large  single  pictures,  black  or  colored,  a  col- 
lection of  the  leaves  and  twigs  of  the  most  important  plants.  The  author 
assigns  an  independent  place  for  the  object-teaching,  and  lets  reading  and 
writing  follow  next.  In  his  limitation  of  the  subject  he  agrees  with  Richtcr 
and  Armstroff ;  with  them  he  assigns  the  place  for  it  in  the  two  or  three 
first  school  years. 

We  cannot  deny  that  the  work  has  proceeded  from  a  vital  interest  as  well 
for  the  subject  as  for  childhood,  and  also  shows  long  practice.  It  is  original 
in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  idea  of  spreading  the  use  of  the  material  over  all 
the  years  given  to  instruction,  and  of  holding  the  child  in  living  connection 
with  nature  all  that  time,  is  not  in  itself  new.  The  little  work  is  cordially 
recommended. 

12.  Object-teaching  for  the  Lower  and  Middle  Classes  of  the  People's 
School.  By  GEORGE  Luz.  Also  Teaching  and  Heading  Material  for  Ob- 
ject-teaching in  the  Lower  and  Middle  Classes.  Wieseusteig,  1871. 

The  first  part  of  the  book  discusses  the  theory  of  object-teaching.  In 
twelve  sections  the  author  treats  the  following  rich  contents  : 

1.  The  origin  of  object-teaching,  and  its  introduction  into  the  people's 
school. 

2.  Object-teaching  as  the  first  and  preparatory  instruction. 

3.  Conception  of  object-teaching. 

4.  Aims  of  object-teaching. 

5.  Forms  of  object-teaching. 

•6.   Opponents  of  object-teaching. 

7.  The  working  of  independent  object- teaching. 

8.  The  annexation  of  object-teaching  to  the  reading-book. 

9.  Characteristics  of  different  readers  for  the  middle  class. 
10.   Review  of  the  programme  of  instruction  of  the  author. 


OBJECT  TEACHING.     BUSSE.  215 

11.  Treatment  of  object-teaching. 

12.  Some  examples  of  conversation. 

The  second  part  is  to  be  the  reader  for  the  use  of  pupils. 

The  work  is  by  a  pupil  of  Denzel,  but  is  distinguished  by  its  extraordi- 
nary simplicity  from  the  one  to  be  noticed  next,  by  Wrage.  Not  merely  skill 
in  the  catechetical  treatment  of  material  constitutes  the  good  teacher  (and 
from  pages  82  to  90  we  find  masterly  conversations),  but  also  his  command 
of  the  material.  But  only  he  has  command  over  his  material  who  under- 
stands how  to  select  it  in  reference  to  the  nature  of  childhood ;  and  from 
this  author  \ve  learn  to  know  his  conceptions  of  a  teacher,  and  a  bettei 
could  not  be  wished  for;  "  the  enemy  of  all  shams,  allflunkery  ;  thefriena, 
of  simplicity,  of  sound  discretion  —  in  shorty  one  who  really  knows  ihr 
nature  of  childhood." 

Of  this  loving  absorption  into  the  nature  of  childhood,  the  material  for 
reading  and  the  inculcation  of  principles  in  the  infant  is  eloquent  testimony. 
It  is  a  preparatory  book  for  the  teacher  in  behalf  of  object-teaching,  and  a 
copious  reader  for  the  lower  classes.  The  problem  of  how  object-teaching 
can  stand  in  the  closest  connection  with  the  reader,  and  yet  be  indepen- 
dently progressive,  is  here  solved  in  the  happiest  manner.  What  the  teacher 
has  hitherto  observed  and  described,  the  children  read  after  him,  and  thus 
reach  two  things :  progress  in  understanding  what  they  read,  reading  ar»<* 
repeating  with  feeling,  and  comprehension  of  what  they  have  heard. 

13.  Object-teaching  in  the  People's  School ;  or,  Observing,  TJiinkina,  Speak- 
ing, and  Writing,  as  the  Foundation  for  Physical  Studies,  for  Style,  and 
Grammar.  By  J.  H.  FUIIR  and  J.  H.  ORTMANN.  In  four  double  sheets. 
Four  sheets  of  Object-teaching,  interspersed  with  Sentences,  Fables, 
and  Stories,  in  Prose  and  Poetry,  arranged  according  to  the  Four  Sea- 
sons. Bound  in  with  the  Object-teaching,  four  sheets  of  Exercises,  in  all 
Styles,  for  all  Classes,  after  the  Preparatory  Class  in  Grammar.  Second 
enlarged  and  improved  Edition.  Dillenburg,  1873. 

According  to  this  author,  observation  is  the  element  and  foundation  of 
all  knowledge ;  and  object-teaching,  pursued  according  to  its  aim,  is  the 
only  instruction  that  can  be  materially  and  formally  truly  preparatory  and 
fundamental  for  the  collected  instruction  of  the  people's  schools,  which  can 
rest  only  upon  the  firm  ground  of  observation.  Object-teaching  must  strive 
for  correct  observation  and  attention,  clear  conceptions,  correct  expression 
of  thoughts,  acquisition  of  useful  knowledge  of  practical  things,  and  cul- 
tivation of  feeling.  A  full  supply  of  poetic  material  serves  for  the  latter 
purpose  and  point  of  connection. 

Contents  :  In  twenty  conversations  are,  first,  preparatory  exercises  offered 
to  the  teacher,  which  aim  at  exciting  the  feelings  of  the  child,  so  that  it 
may  be  confiding  and  animated.  Then  the  children  are  led  on  according 
to  the  principle,  from  the  near  to  the  remote,  by  the  following  circles  of  ob- 
servation :  School,  house  and  yard,  garden,  meadow,  field  and  wood.  In 
order  to  give  the  best  possible  intuitive  foundation  for  physical  science, 
the  animals  in  the  family  and  yard  are  described,  so  that  they  are  under- 
stood to  be  representatives,  or  types  of  the  one,  two  and  four-hoofed 


216  OBJECT  TEACHING.     BUSSE. 

animals,  the  beasts  of  prey,  the  insect-eaters,  the  rodents,  the  fowls,  doves, 
swimming-birds,  swamp-birds,  singing-birds,  and  birds  of  prey.  Then 
follows  the  contemplation  of  trees,  shrubs,  and  herbs. 

The  second  part  may  be  regarded  as  a  complete  course  of  natural  his- 
tory, and  used  with  much  benefit. 

The  third  sheet  is  peculiarly  of  Object-teaching.  The  second  part  of 
this  treats  of  the  premonitions  of  Spring  in  the  plant  world.  Walk  in 
the  garden,  and  naming  of  the  things  fcund  in  it.  Plants;  growth;  (as 
specialties,  the  snowdrops,  the  garden  violets,  daisies.)  Then  follows  a 
premonition  of  Spring  in  the  animal  world  (field-larks,  stork,  cuckoo,  the 
white  wagtail).  Then  the  Spring  itself ;  (the  usher  of  Spring  is  the  com- 
mon primrose.)  At  last,  the  fruit-garden  (gooseberries,  currant-bushes, 
cherry-trees,  and  damson-trees).  In  every  lesson,  the  cultivation  of  the 
senses,  of  language,  and  of  feeling  is  aimed  at  By  interspersed  speeches^ 
sentences,  riddles,  fables,  tales,  in  prose  and  verse,  the  instruction  con- 
tains the  right  nourishment  for  the  understanding,  the  heart,  and  the  life. 
A  little  volume  is  soon  to  follow  this  part,  which  will  contain  the  rest  of  the 
material,  so  far  as  concerns  the  domain  of  natural  history  and  physics, 
(mineralogy,  domestic  economy,  and  natural  science.)  The  catechetical 
treatment  of  many  of  the  lessons,  lend,  by  their  numerous  suggestions,  a 
peculiar  value  to  the  whole  work.  As  to  the  rest,  the  author  is  of  the 
opinion  that  the  material  offered  in  the  school  should  not  be  used  in  a 
slavish  manner,  as  it  lies  before  the  view.  These  materials  offer  much  for 
the  teacher,  because  they  will  excite  him  to  studies  and  contemplations  in 
Nature  herself. 

Of  the  first  three  parts  of  this  splendid  work,  only  the  two  first  lie 
before  us  upon  object-teaching,  and  the  first  of  the  exercises  in  style ;  a 
definite  judgment  of  it  is,  therefore,  not  yet  possible.  The  splendid  fullness 
of  the  useful  material  surprises  the  reader,  and  he  feels  delighted  with  per- 
ceiving that  he  has  to  do  with  two  teachers,  who  give  nothing  but  what 
they  have  proved  by  long  practice.  Every  lesson  seems  to  be  given  as  if 
the  talk  had  been  held  in  the  class.  The  arrangement  of  the  exercise* 
in  style  are  appropriate,  so  far  as  we  have  been  able  to  look  them  over. 

If  we  dared  to  make  one  criticism  (snap  our  fingers  at  the  authors),  it 
would  be  this  :  It  seems  as  if  by  the  parallel  contents  of  the  exercises  in 
observation  and  style,  a  certain  monotony  would  be  unavoidable  in  the 
later  propositions.  The  pupil  will  rarely  go  farther  in  this  field  than  ta 
descriptions  and  stories.  Pictures  overtax  his  powers.  The  real  mine 
from  whence  he  will  draw  his  compositions,  outside  of  the  nature  that 
forms  his  surroundings,  is  human  life,  fable,  parable,  proverbs,  universal 
history,  and,  above  all,  literature,  with  its  incomparable  riches.  But  we 
trust  to  the  pedagogic  skill  of  the  authors,  that  they  will  avoid  monotony, 
and  that  they  will  draw  from  their  excellent  material  with  proper  judgment. 

The  whole  work  is  so  important,  by  the  wealth  of  its  contents  and  the 
abundance  of  its  methodical  directions,  that  every  teacher  ought  to  be 
acquainted  with  it.  We  are  still  so  poor  in  proper  apparatus  for  object- 
teaching,  that  we  are  glad  to  mention  a  book  that  has  already  found  a  place 
for  itself  in  the  world's  literature. 


CONVERSATIONS  ON  OBJECTS. 

PRACTICAL    COURSE    OF    ELEMENTARY    INSTRUCTION    IN    LANGUAGE, 
MENTAL    DEVELOPMENT. 


CONVERSATIONS  ON  OBJECTS — commencing  with  the  earliest  indi 
cations  of  the  infant  faculties,  and  proportioned  to  the  progressive 
development  of  reason  which  varies  in  different  individuals,  will  be 
found  not  only  to  be  an  excellent  substitute  for  the  irksome  and  me- 
chanical processes  of  almost  all  our  elementary  schools,  but  the  best 
vehicle  of  diversified  knowledge  and  the  ground-work  of  mental  dis- 
cipline, while  it  is  introducing  children  to  a  practical  acquaintance 
with  their  native  tongue.  We  shall  adopt  in  the  discussion  of  this 
subject  a  chapter  from  C.  Marcel's  admirable  treatise  on  Language.* 

Although  the  order  in  which  the  various  conversations  on  objects 
have  been  introduced  may  be  modified  according  to  circumstances,  it 
must  not  be  regarded  as  altogether  a  matter  of  indifference ;  for  we 
have  endeavored  to  conform  to  that  which  nature  follows  in  gradually 
inuring  the  mind  to  habits  of  investigation.  She  imperatively  en- 
joins that  the  first  efforts  of  the  child  should  be  directed  to  the  im- 
provement of  those  powers  by  which  he  may  form  clear  and  correct 
notions  of  things.  He  should  therefore  be  made  to  pass  progres- 
sively through  the  exercises  in  perception,  observation,  reflection,  and 
reasoning. 

Another  rule  which  should  be  strictly  adhered  to  is,  that,  whenever 
a  topic,  an  exercise,  or  a  branch  of  information,  acknowledged  to-  be 
useful,  has  been  entered  upon,  it  should  be  occasionally  repeated, 
until  the  children  have  a  clear  insight  into  the  subject  brought  before 
them,  or  until  the  object  proposed  from  it  has  been  attained.  It 
should  also  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  following  course,  although  in- 
tended as  a  preparation  for  the  scholastic  instruction  of  boys,  is 
equally  suitable  to  girls ;  for,  until  the  age  of  twelve,  the  intellectual 
education  should  be  the  same. 

SECT.    I. EXERCISES  IN  PERCEPTION. 

1 .  Names  of  objects,  their  Par/*,  Matter,  and  Color. 
From  the  moment  that  a  child  articulates  distinctly,  various  famil- 

*  "Language  as  a  Means  of  Mental  Culture.1'— London.    2  vols. 


21S  CONVERSATIONS  ON  OBJECTS. 

iar  objects  should  be  offered  to  his  notio-,  and  their  use  explained; 
their  names  being,  at  the  same  time,  clearly  uttnvd  for  him,  he 
should  be  made  to  repeat  them  slowly  and  aloud.  But  he  mu*t  not 
be  forced  into  premature  efforts  to  speak,  lest  be  should  acquire  habits 
of  indistinct  and  defective  utterance.  Premature  walking  is  not  more 
injurious  to  the  organs  of  motion  than  is  premature  speaking  to  the 
vocal  organs.  In  order  also  to  guard  against  fatiguing  him  by  a  dry 
repetition  of  words,  the  instructor  should  enliven  the  exercise  by  mak- 
ing, in  plain  language  and  in  a  playful  manner,  some  simple  ol 
tions  on  the  nature  and  use  of  the  things  which  he  is  called  upon  to 
name. 

This  exercise  should,  at  first,  be  limited  to  a  few  objects  at  one 
time,  and  the  same  things  should  be  repeatedly  presented  to  him  as- 
Hn-iated  with  tlu-ir  names,  until  he  perfectly  knows  these  names.  His 
vocabulary  should  be  gradually  extended  by  the  introduction  of  new 
ol>j  ets  which  he  is  made  to  observe  and  name,  such  as  articles  of 
dress,  food,  furniture,  every  tiling  which  he  can  hold  in  his  hand,  or 
which  may  be  seen  either  from  the  window  or  out  of  doors.  This 
mode  of  proceeding  will  soon  put  a  young  child  in  possession  of  a 
considerable  number  of  useful  nouns.  It  is  a  triple  exercise  in  per- 
ception, articulation,  and  memory,  which  must,  from  the  variety  of 
objects  and  the  movement  required  in  passing  from  one  to  the  other, 
be  more  interesting  to  the  child,  as  it  certainly  is  more  profitable  at 
this  age,  than  the  ordinary  practices  of  conning  for  m..ntli>  «,v.-r  the 
same  six-and-twenty,  to  him,  unmeaning  letters,  reading  nonsensical 
trash,  or  learning  by  rote  the  unconnected  words  of  a  spelling-book 
or  dictionary. 

As  the  child's  intellect  opens  and  becomes  capable  of  examining 
objects  minutely,  of  distinguishing  their  resemblances  and  differ- 
ences, of  noticing  their  parts,  their  matter,  their  color,  their  form,  and 
their  number,  his  attention  should  be  successively  directed  to  all  iii<-«- 
points.  Thus  will  his  mind  be  early  brought  in  contact  with  the  ex- 
ternal world,  and  be  duly  exercised  by  ascribing  to  every  object  of 
aense  its  qualities  and  peculiar  condition.  He  will  also  easily  reiu«  111- 
ber  the  words,  when  the  ideas  they  signify  are  once  clearly  appre- 
hended. A  correct  acquaintance  with  the  meaning  and  application 
of  words  must  not  be  deemed  a  matter  of  little  moment  in  the  first 
years  of  life.  If  we  consider  the  disastrous  results  to  which  igno- 
rant- on  these  points  has  led,  and  the  inconvenience  which  often 
arises  to  the  best  educated  among  us  from  this  single  source,  we  shall 
find  that  time  well  employed,  which  is  devoted  to  securing  a  knowl- 
•edge  of  the  meaning  of  words.  This  practical  instruction  may  be 


EXERCISES  IN  PERCEPTION.  219 

commenced  with  the  >.-c"inl  period  of  youth — at  the  age  of  six.  Curi- 
<>Mtv  and  the  perceptive  powers  being  then  in  full  activity,  the  child's 
attention  may  be  easily  cultivated  through  them,  and  a  spirit  of  ob- 
s.  r\,ition,  analysis,  and  comparison,  the  foundation  of  a  correct  judg- 
ment. \><-  early  fostered. 

The  first  inquiry  to  be  made  in  the  examination  of  an  object  con- 
sists in  ascertaining  the  parts  of  which  it  is  composed.  These  are 
sumrtiin<->  BO  minute  that  considerable  attention  is  requisite  to  dis- 
cern them  all.  So  important  is  this  inquiry,  that  an  acquaintance, 
for  example,  with  all  the  parts  of  a  plant,  and  with  their  forms  and 
colors,  constitutes  the  knowledge  of  its  botanic  character,  and  involves 
a  considerable  portion  of  the  botanic  technology.  The  child  must  be 
shown  how  all  the  parts  of  an  object  are  connected,  how  they  har- 
monize, and  how  far  each  is  indispensable  to  the  completion  and 
pleasing  effect  of  the  whole :  thus  will  he  be  accustomed  to  discrimi- 
nate what  is  principal  from  what  is  accessory,  what  is  useful  from 
what  is  merely  ornamental. 

By  attending  to  the  matter  of  which  the  object  and  its  parts  are 
composed,  the  child  will  learn  how  to  distinguish  animal,  vegetable, 
and  minerable  substances ;  he  will  form  clear  ideas  of  what  is  natu- 
ral and  artificial,  simple  and  compound,  native  and  foreign,  indigen- 
ous and  exotic. 

The  next  consideration  will  be  that  of  color :  this  beautiful  prop- 
erty of  matter,  diffused  over  all  the  works  of  nature  and  art,  will,  by 
the  infinite  variety  of  its  shades  and  combinations,  offer  to  the  visual 
faculty  an  endless  means  of  exercise.  Accuracy  of  perception  in 
reference  to  it  will  prove  useful  for  various  branches  of  knowledge  and 
pursuits  in  life.  A  due  attention  to  the  diversity  of  colors,  to  the 
proportion  of  parts,  and  to  the  gracefulness  of  forms,  considered  as 
the  elements  of  beauty,  will  sow  the  seeds  of  taste. 

An  acquaintance  with  colors  can  be  very  early  imparted  to  a  child. 
To  enable  him  the  better  to  distinguish  them  and  recollect  their 
names,  the  instructor  should  be  provided  with  a  tabular  illustration 
of  their  prismatic  order ;  he  should,  first,  point  out  to  him  the  primi- 
tive colors,  red,  yellow,  and  blue,  then  the  three  intervening  com- 
pound colors,  orange,  green,  and  violet;  and,  afterwards,  their  various 
shades,  from  the  lightest  to  the  deepest  hue.  Glasses  of  different 
colors,  placed  by  pairs  one  over  the  other,  would  afford  him  the 
means  of  perceiving  the  effect  of  the  mixture  of  colors.  He  may  be 
shown  that  white  is  the  color  of 'light,  or  the  blending  of  the  pris- 
matic colors,  and  that  black  is  the  absence  of  them.  As  all  imagin. 
able  shades  of  color  can  be  produced  by  a  diversified  mixture  of  red, 


220  CONVERSATIONS  ON  OBJECTS 

yellow,  blue,  white,  and  black,  the  child  may  be  exercised  in  discov- 
ering which  of  these  elements  prevails  in  any  cor.ipound  color  piv- 
sented  to  his  sight. 

2.  Numbers;  Ball-Frame. 

The  elements  of  arithmetic  may  enter  as  part  of  the  exercises  of 
this  early  period:  the  practical  nature  of  its  first  rules  is  well  suited' 
to  the  understanding  of  children.  Relations  of  number  and  arith- 
metical calculations  are  also,  from  their  simplicity  and  mathematical 
accuracy,  admirably  adapted  to  the  training  of  the  young  mind  to 
habits  of  attention  and  reasoning.  But,  before  a  child  is  exercised 
in  mental  calculation,  which  at  this  early  period  might  overtask  his 
reflective  powers,  and  before  he  is  taught  the  numerical  figures,  which 
are  signs  of  abstract  ideas,  he  should  be  accustomed  to  associate  the 
numerical  adjectives  with  the  names  of  objects  which  admit  of  com- 
putation ;  tor  these  adjectives,  when  used  by  themselves,  being  mere 
attractions  can  not  impart  clear  and  correct  notions  of  number.  A 
variety  of  similar  tiling  should  be  employed,  particularly  the  current 
coins  of  the  country,  counters,  cards,  inch  square,  or  cubic  blocks, 
which,  by  gradual  addition  and  subtraction  of  units  and  groups, 
would  teach  the  value  and  relation  of  numbers  as  also  the  fuuda- 
in.-ntal  rules  of  arithmetic;  he  should  be  taught  to  express  in  num- 
bers the  dimensions  of  objects  by  applying  to  them  a  unit  of  m«  a- 
ure,  the  inch  or  foot,  as  the  case  may  require.  When  the  child  has 
frequently  associated  real  objects  with  the  ideas  of  number,  the  nu- 
iiifiiral  nam> •>  and  figures  will  easily  pass  in  his  mind  from  the  con- 
crete to  the  abstract  state. 

The  ball-frame,  consisting  of  one  hundred  sliding  balls  on  ten  hori- 
zontal parallel  rods.  may.  in  the  hands  of  a  skillful  instructor,  not 
only  assist  in  explaining  the  numeration,  that  is,  the  formation  and 
names  of  numbers,  but  also  serve  to  leach  how  to  solve  readily  the 
elementary  questions  of  addition  and  subtraction,  multiplication  and 
division.  If  the  balls  be  of  two  contrasting  colors  and  strung  alter- 
nately, the  eye  will  be  pleased,  attention  captivated,  and  calculations 
considerably  facilitated.  With  this  frame  a  child  can  himself  dis- 
«>\er  the  products  of  the  multiplication  of  any  two  factors  under  ten; 
he  sees  that  these  factors  can  be  inverted,  that  multiplication  is  only 
an  abbreviated  form  of  addition,  and  thereby  clearly  understands  the 
principles  of  this  operation.  The  mental  act,  also,  by  which  he  fines 
out  these  products  will  enable  him  to  recollect  them  better  than  the 
absurd  mechanical  parroting  of  the  multiplication-table. 

This  frame  is  not  a  late  invention,  as  may  be  seen  in  Friend's  work 
on  Arithmetic,  published  fifty  years  ago ;  it  has  been  used  for  a  long 


EXERCISES  IN  PKIU  EPT1ON  221 

tiim-  in  the  primary  schools  of  France  and  (Jcnnany.  It  must  not 
l.c  contounuVd  with  the  abacus  of  the  ancients,  in  which  one  line  of 
beads  or  balls  was  made  to  stand  for  units,  the  next  for  tens,  another 
for  hundreds,  and  so  on.  But.  although  the  abacus  was  originally 
intended  for  casting  up  accounts,  it  might  also  prove  useful  in  teach- 
ing the  first  principles  of  arithmetic.  The  Russians  and  the  Chinese 
have,  from  time  immemorial,  performed  calculations  by  means  of  such 
frames ;  but  that  of  the  latter,  called  shwan-pan,  differs  from  the  one 
adverted  to  here  by  its  having  only  five  beads  on  each  wire,  the  rela- 
tivr  values  of  which  are  distinguished  by  their  size  and  color. 

The  one  hundred  ball-frame  is  preferable  to  that  which  is  com- 
posed of  144  balls,  and  is  adopted  in  many  infant  schools  in  this 
country,  inasmuch  as  it  answers  all  the  purposes  of  calculation,  and 
besides  clearly  illustrates  the  principle  of  the  decimal  system,  since 
the  relation  of  units  to  tens  and  hundreds  is  observable  through  all 
combinations  and  computations.  It  is  a  matter  of  great  importance 
that  a  child  should  in  his  first  conception  of  number  perceive  the 
simple  and  beautiful  arrangement  by  which  a  place  is  assigned  to  the 
different  powers  of  ten  that  compose  any  number.  In  fact,  a  knowl- 
edge thus  acquired  of  the  composition  of  numbers  leads  to  a  rapid 
understanding  of  the  mode  of  representing  them  by  numerical  figures. 
To  effect  this  last  object,  pasteboard,  wood,  or  brass  figures  would  be 
found  more  convenient  and  more  interesting  to  a  young  child  than 
writing  on  paper  or  slate. 

At  a  more  advanced  age,  toward  the  end  of  the  second  period, 
he  should  be  exercised  in  mental  calculation,  passing  very  gradually 
from  simple  to  complex  operations.  This  exercise,  which  admits  of 
endless  variety,  accomplishes  several  objects :  it  brings  into  action  the 
reflective  and  recollective  powers ;  it  disciplines  the  understanding  in 
exact  reasoning ;  and  gives  habits  of  calculation,  such  as  the  daily 
transactions  of  life  require.  But  not  only  is  arithmetical  expertness 
useful  in  the  practical  business  of  life,  it  is  also  indispensable  as  the 
basis  of  all  real  progress  in  the  mathematical  and  experimental  sci- 
ences, in  which  the  learner  has  constant  need  of  applying  the  rules 
and  performing  the  operations  of  arithmetic. 

3.  Fractional  Numbers;  Fractional  Apparatus. 

When  a  child  has  a  clear  idea  of  numeration  and  of  the  element- 
ary rules  in  whole  numbers,  he  may  be  initiated  into  the  first  notions 
of  fractional  arithmetic.  These  notions,  intricate  as  they  are,  when 
taught  abstractedly  through  the  fractional  notation,  become  extremely 
simple  and  intelligible,  even  at  a  very  tender  age,  when  explained  by 


222  CONVERSATIONS  ON  OBJECTS. 

means  of  visible  illustrations.  The  different  objects  which  have  been 
mentioned  for  counting  in  whole  Dnmben  may  equally  serve  for  im- 
parting to  young  people  the  first  notions  of  fractions.  A  number  of 
such  objects,  being  considered  as  a  whole  and  variously  divided  into- 
equal  parts  or  fractional  numbers,  would,  by  the  addition  and  subdi- 
vision of  these,  illustrate  the  relative  value  and  the  elementary  opera- 
tions of  simple  fractions.  This,  however,  may  perhaps  be  still  better 
effected  by  the  following  contrivance : — 

Let  about  16  or  18  thin  slips  of  wood  or  pasteboard,  about  half 
an  inch  in  breadth,  be  made  all  exactly  the  same  length,  say  one  foot. 
(This  length  is  convenient,  and  will,  besides,  accustom  the  eye  of  the 
child  to  a  useful  measure.)  Let  them  be  divided  by  a  line  across  the 
breadth,  the  first  into  two  equal  portions,  the  second  into  three,  the 
the  third  into  four,  and  so  on  up  to  the  eleventh,  which  will  be  com- 
posed of  twelve  equal  parts ;  a  few  other  slips  may  be  respectively 
divided  into  15,  18,  20,  24,  36,  48,  60,  72,  and  84  equal  parts* 
which  numbers  are  chosen  on  account  of  their  having  a  great  num- 
ber of  divisors.  Let  the  lines  indicating  different  subdivisions  be  of 
different  colors,  and  those  indicating  equal  portions  in  the  different 
slips  be  of  the  same  color — all  the  halves  throughout  being  thus  of 
one  color,  all  the  thirds  of  another,  and  so  on.  Let  also  the  denom- 
inator, that  is,  the  number  of  parts  into  which  the  foot-slips  are 
divided,  be  marked  at  one  of  the  ends  of  each  slip.  These  colored 
lines  and  written  denominators  will  greatly  assist  in  distinguishing  at 
once  the  different  fractions,  reducing  them  to  their  lowest  terms,  and 
finding  out  their  common  denominator. 

The  pupil  with  these  slips  placed  side  by  side  under  his  eye,  should 
be  called  upon  to  observe  the  various  subdivisions  of  the  foot  which 
are  marked  on  them,  and  be  told  the  names  by  which  are  denom- 
inated the  equal  parts  of  each  slip,  halves,  thirds,  fourths  or  quarters^ 
<fec.;  he  may,  from  these,  discover  by  analogy,  the  names  of  the 
others.  He  should  be  made  successively  to  notice  that  •£,  f,  f,  &c.r 
are  equal  to  one  another ;  that  -J,  f ,  £,  <fec.,  are  the  same  ;  that  ^,  is 
greater  than  -J-,  -J-  greater  than  •£,  <fec. ;  that  -f  are  less  than  •£-,  f-  less 
than  •£-.  &c. ;  that  the  fraction  is  greater  in  proportion  as  the  numera- 
tor is  increased,  or  the  denominator  lessened,  and  vice  versa.  He 
should  add,  subtract,  find  a  common  denominator,  and  reduce  frac- 
tions to  their  lowest  terms.  In  short,  he  might,  by  means  of  this 
simple  apparatus,  and,  under  the  guidance  of  a  judicious  teacher, 
gain  a  clear  acquaintance  with  the  denominations,  nature,  value,  and 
properties  of  common  fractions,  long  before  he  could  safely  be  intro- 
duced to  their  numerical  symbols  and  to  their  abstract  forms. 


EXERCISES  IN  PERCEPTION  223 

4.  Forms;   Geometrical  solids ;    Architectural  game. 

In  order  promptly  to  familiarize  the  pupil  with  the  most  general 
forms  and  the  terms  expressive  of  them,  a  collection  of  small  geo- 
metrical solids  should  he  exhibited  to  him,  such  as  spheres,  cylinders,, 
cones,  prisms,  pyramids,  and  the  regular  geometrical  bodies  in  differ- 
ent dimensions,  as  also  a  cone  with  its  several  sections.  In  minutely 
examining  each  of  these,  his  attention  may  easily  be  directed,  by  a 
natural  analysis,  from  the  solids  to  the  surfaces,  triangles,  quadrilat- 
erals, and  polygons ;  from  these  to  the  angles,  lines,  and  points.  la 
comparing  them  afterwards,  he  may  find  out  himself  their  differ- 
ences, and  classify  them  ;  and,  iu  stating  the  result  of  his  examination, 
he  is  led  to  the  use  and  to  the  definition  of  the  scientific  terms  which 
designate  them,  and  to  the  consideration  of  the  first  elements  of 
geometry. 

By  a  reference  to  the  geometrical  solids  a  child  may  easily  under- 
stand what  is  meant  by  vertical  and  horizontal ;  perpendicular  and 
oblique ;  parallel  and  divergent,  and  convergent ;  right,  acute,  and 
obtuse  angles  ;  circle,  circumference,  and  diameter  ;  he  may  be  shown 
the  principal  properties  of  triangles,  the  mode  of  measuring  and  di- 
viding angles,  the  relative  length  of  circumference  and  diameter,  and 
may  be  taught  by  means  of  small  square  blocks  or  cubes,  how  to 
measure  rectangular  superficies  and  solids. 

If  the  child  be  made  to  sketch  the  outlines  of  these  solids,  it  will 
be  a  further  preparation  for  his  future  study  of  that  science ;  for 
these  diagram  sketches,  within  the  power  of  a  young  child — and  his 
first  step  in  the  useful  practice  of  drawing  from  nature,  will  direct 
his  attention  more  closely  to  the  geometrical  forms,  will  familiarize 
him  with  the  terms  and  graphic  representations  of  them,  and  will 
give  him  some  practical  notions  of  perspective.  The  precision  and 
accuracy  of  eye,  gained,  at  the  same  time,  by  the  habit  of  drawing, 
would  considerably  assist  him  in  clearly  conceiving  the  forms,  pro- 
portions, and  dimensions  of  objects.  The  facility  and  correctness, 
also,  with  which  he  will  execute  these  figures,  if  he  has  early  prac- 
ticed drawing,  will,  at  a  future  period,  render  geometry  much  more 
attractive;  whilst  the  elements  of  this  science  will,  in  their  turn,  tend 
to  give  a  useful  direction  to  linear  drawing. 

The  practice  of  ascertaining  the  various  parts,  substances,  colors, 
and  forms  of  objects,  is  an  effectual  preparation  for  the  study  of 
the  natural  sciences ;  it  can  not  fail  to  impart  accuracy  and  acute- 
ness  to  the  perceptive  powers  of  young  persons ;  it  will  accus- 
tom them  to  observe  and  analyze  things  minutely;  while  all  the 


224  CONVERSATIONS  ON  OBJECTS. 

terms  relative  to  these  different  points  will  considerably  extend  their 
vocabulary. 

To  those  who  advocate  for  children  science  in  play,  we  will  suggest 
that  the  young  mind  may  be  effectually  familiarized  with  forms  and 
proportions  by  means  of  an  architectural  game  composed  of  brick- 
shaped  pieces,  and  others  in  imitation  of  those  which  enter  into  the 
construction  of  buildings — blocks  of  different  sizes  (say,  from  one 
inch  to  four  inches  in  length,  one  inch  in  breadth,  and  half  an  inch 
in  thickness,)  cubes,  arches,  columns,  with  detached  bases,  capitals, 
and  moldings,  in  different  orders  of  architecture.  These  building 
materials  may  be  so  contrived  as  to  present,  by  their  various  combi- 
nations, illustrations  of  geometrical  propositions,  and,  by  their  super- 
structure, edifices  in  different  styles  of  architecture.  They  should 
consist  of  close-grained  wood,  of  two  contrasting  colors,  so  as  to 
jilmse  the  eye  by  their  neatness  and  symmetrical  arrangements;  and 
if  they  be  made  with  mathematical  accuracy,  and  on  a  scale  founded 
on  the  national  measures,  they  will  be  easily  raised  in  conformity  to 
any  architectural  design,  while  the  eye  will  be  early  habituated  to  a 
useful  measure.  The  author,  anxious  to  give  his  children  the  benefit 
of  such  a  game,  has  constructed  one  with  box  and  Brazil  wood 
(white  and  red,)  composed  of  about  six  hundred  pieces  of  various 
sizes  and  geometrical  forms,  on  the  above-mentioned  scale  of  meas- 
urement. It  has  been  for  his  young  family  not  only  an  exhaustless 
source  of  pleasure  and  instruction,  but  an  efficient  means  of  forming 
habits  of  patience  and  enticing  them  to  efforts  of  invention. 

SECT.    11. EXERCISES    IN    OBSERVATION. 

1.  Properties,  Comparisons,  and  Classification  of  objects. 
From  the  age  of  eight  or  nine,  when  the  child's  perceptive  facul- 
ties have  been  exercised  on  the  most  apparent  properties  of  things, 
and  when  he  has  learned  to  confine  and  prolong  his  attention,  he 
should  be  required  to  examine  objects  more  minutely,  to  compare 
them  under  different  points  of  view,  and  to  state  in  what  particular 
two  or  more  resemble  or  differ.  These  exercises  would  prove  highly 
interesting  to  young  people,  who  delight  in  discovering  differences 
between  similar  things,  and  resemblances  between  different  things. 
The  judgment,  according  to  Locke,  is  exercised  by  the  first  act,  and 
the  imagination  by  the  second:  all  the  intellectual  powers,  in  fact, 
which  have  comparison  for  their  basis,  would  be  thus  highly  culti- 
vated. He  who  is  best  able  to  compare  will  know  best  how  to 
analyze,  to  abstract,  to  generalize,  to  classify,  to  judge — in  one  word, 
to  reason. 


EXERCISES  IN  OBSERVATION.  225 

Various  objects  should  be  successively  submitted  to  the  organs  of 
sense,  and  the  relations  in  which  they  stand  to  each  other  be  duly 
examined,  in  order  that,  by  observation  and  comparison,  their  partic- 
ular properties  may  be  discovered,  as  well  those  which  are  relative 
to  our  constitution  as  those  which  are  inherent  in  the  objects  them- 
selves. A  true  knowledge  of  things  consists  in  a  perfect  acquaint- 
ance with  all  their  properties.  When  objects  have  been  considered 
in  all  their  bearings,  the  child  may  be  directed  how  to  classify  them 
according  to  the  similarity  of  their  essential  attributes.  It  is,  in  fact, 
the  relation  of  resemblance  which,  by  the  general  notions  and  cor- 
responding general  terms  that  flow  from  it,  becomes  the  source  of 
classification  and  definition,  and  of  all  that  is  valuable  in  language. 

As  the  attributes  inherent  in  matter  may  not  all  present  themselves 
to  the  mind  of  the  teacher  at  the  very  moment  when  he  wishes  to 
direct  the  attention  of  the  pupil  to  them,  tables  containing  in  juxta- 
position adjectives  of  opposite  meanings  would  enable  him  to  point 
out  all  the  properties  the  presence  or  absence  of  which  can  be  ascer- 
tained in  objects. 

Every  new  discovery  which  results  from  the  investigation  of  ob- 
jects exercises  the  understanding,  leads  to  a  knowledge  of  the  true 
essence  of  things,  and  stores  the  memory  with  adjectives  and  abstract 
•nouns,  the  chief  materials  of  descriptive  and  philosophical  language. 
A  familiarity  with  such  terras,  by  generating  a  habit  of  nice  discrimin- 
ation, and  enriching  the  imagination  with  vivid  conceptions  of  things, 
constitutes  the  characteristic  elements  of  eloquence.  Uneducated 
people  are  particularly  deficient  in  these  two  species  of  words.  The 
child  being  also  led  to  distinguish  the  properties  which  are  natural  or 
artificial,  essential  or  accidental,  permanent  or  transient,  absolute  or 
relative,  and  to  discover  those  which  belong  to  one  object  exclusively, 
or  are  common  to  several,  will  find  no  difficulty  in  making  classifica- 
tions, or  availing  himself  of  those  already  existing,  and  of  their  cor- 
responding nomenclatures.  Classification  is  the  indispensable  com- 
plement of  observation. 

As  young  persons  collect  facts,  they  must  be  frequently  exercised 
in  classifying  them  with  reference  to  their  resemblance  or  difference. 
If  any  number  of  objects  is  considered  with  regard  to  one  or  several 
points  of  resemblance,  the  collection  constitutes  a  class  named  genus  ; 
subdivisions  of  these  into  classes  of  objects  having  properties  in  com- 
mon and  distinct  from  the  rest,  form  as  many  species  ;  finally,  when, 
on  a  closer  examination,  single  objects  are  considered  in  reference  to 
properties  which  are  peculiar  to  them,  they  are  denominated  indi- 
viduals. The  child  must  be  shown  that  the  terms  genus  and  specie* 


226  CONVERSATIONS  ON  OBJECTS. 

are  relative :  the  same  class  which  is  a  genus  with  reference  to  the 
sub-classes,  or  species  included  in  it,  may  be  itself  a  species  relatively 
to  a  more  extensive,  or,  as  it  is  often  called,  a  superior  genus.  Birdr 
for  example,  a  genus  with  regard  to  the  different  species  eagle, 
sparrow,  <fec.,  is,  in  its  turn,  a  species  of  the  genus  animal,  which  is 
itself  a  species  with  respect  to  the  superior  genus  organized  being. 
Filial  love  is  a  species  of  the  genus  affection  ;  affection,  a  species  of 
the  genus  goodness  ;  and  goodness,  a  species  of  the  genus  inclination. 
The  distinction  of  generic  and  specific  terms  applies  to  a  very  exten- 
sive range  of  mental  conceptions. 

The  complex  operation  of  classifying  things  according  to  their 
points  of  resemblance,  and  of  distinguishing  them  by  their  points  of 
dissimilarity,  is  one  of  the  highest  exercises  of  our  reason  and  the 
most  admirable  effect  of  analysis.  It  will  develop  in  a  child  the 
powers  of  observation,  abstraction,  and  generalization,  and  will  pre- 
pare him  for  the  study  of  the  natural  and  experimental  sciences,  by 
giving  him  habits  of  inductive  reasoning — a  principle  on  which  these 
sciences  rest. 

Nothing  is  more  beneficial  to  the  mind  than  the  early  habit  of  re- 
ferring particular  ideas  to  general  principles,  and  classifying  objects 
and  the  notions  acquired  about  them.  The  memory  will  best  retain 
the  information  intrusted  to  its  keeping  when  arranged  according  to 
some  principle  of  generalization.  Classification  leads  to  the  clear 
conception  and  exact  definition  of  terms ;  because  the  names  given 
to  our  generalizations  in  order  to  classify  things,  are.  connected  in  the 
mind  with  the  peculiarities  that  characterize  these  things  :  it  becomes 
the  more  useful  as  ideas  accumulate  on  the  mind ;  for,  in  general, 
confusion  does  not  arise  so  much  from  the  number  of  ideas,  as  from 
the  incapability  of  conceiving  them  clearly  and  arranging  them  in  a 
proper  order.  Classification  is  the  ground-work  of  inductive  philoso- 
phy, and  of  all  scientific  investigations. 

2.  Incidental  investigations  about  Objects. 

The  act  of  observing,  which  springs  from  the  natural  desire  for 
knowledge,  reacts  on  that  desire  and  stimulates  it,  when  it  has  be- 
come a  habit :  if,  therefore,  the  child's  powers  of  observation  have- 
been  judiciously  exercised,  his  inquisitiveness  will  increase  with  his 
mental  development.  He  may  then  gradually  be  brought  to  investi- 
gate incidents  connected  with  an  object :  among  others,  what  are  it* 
different  uses,  the  country  whence  it  comes,  the  mode  of  production* 
the  process  of  fabrication,  the  instruments  employed  in  making  it,, 
and  the  trades  concurring  to  its  completion. 


EXERCISES  IN  OBSERVATION.  227 

The  different  uses  to  which  things  are  applied  depending  on  the 
properties  which  they  possess,  one  of  these  considerations  will  easily 
lead  to  the  other.  If,  therefore,  a  child  is  acquainted  with  the  use 
of  an  object,  he  may  be  requested  to  infer  what  must  be  its  proper 
ties  ;  or  these  being  known  to  him,  his  inventive  power  may  be  exer* 
cised  in  finding  how  it  can  be  rendered  useful :  thus  is  he  led  to  the 
investigation  of  causes  and  effects.  At  a  more  advanced  age,  he  will 
be  aided  in  the  search  by  visiting  manufactories,  or  exercising  his  in- 
genuity, as  has  been  recommended,  in  working  various  substances  ; 
for  the  properties  of  matter  are  best  ascertained  by  the  modification 
which  it  undergoes  in  the  arts. 

By  frequently  inquiring  into  the  uses  of  things,  a  child  forms  the 
valuable  habit  of  estimating  every  thing  according  to  its  utility,  and 
of  turning  it  to  account.  The  inquiry  into  the  mode  of  production 
and  fabrication  will  tend  to  cultivate  in  him  a  spirit  of  investigation 
and  invention,  whilst  the  constant  practice  of  ascertaining  causes  and 
effects  will  foster  dispositions  most  favorable  for  afterwards  making 
discoveries  in  the  arts  and  investigating  truths  in  the  higher  sciences.. 
Mere  chance  has  less  to  do  with  the  work  of  invention  than  is  gen- 
erally supposed :  in  most  instances,  the  lucky  accident  which  gave 
birth  to  the  discovery  has  but  set  in  motion  a  certain  train  of  thought 
in  an  already  prepared  mind. 

In  speaking  of  the  place  where  the  manufactured  article  or  the  sub- 
stances of  which  it  is  composed,  are  produced,  the  preceptor  has  an 
opportunity  of  conveying  interesting  information  on  the  natural  pro-, 
ductions  of  various  countries,  especially  on  those  of  his  pupils. 
Should  he  have  within  reach  a  general  map,  or,  better  still,  a  large 
terrestrial  globe,  he  will  add  considerably  to  the  benefit  of  the  lesson 
by  pointing  out  the  situation  of  every  country  or  town,  as  its  name 
is  mentioned. 

In  the  first  examination  of  objects  children  should  be  induced  to 
discover  what  belongs  to  nature  and  what  to  art.  Natural  substances 
assume,  by  the  effect  of  art,  so  many  forms  and  appearances,  that, 
in  many  cases,  a  great  deal  of  ingenuity  is  required  to  find  out  the 
original  materials.  These  investigations  will  bring  within  the  range 
of  conversation  the  three  great  subdivisions  of  natural  substances, 
namely,  the  animal,  vegetable,  and  mineral  kingdoms,  as  well  as  the 
various  arts  of  life. 

These  and  the  other  topics  which  have   now  been  enumerated  as. 
coming  within   the   scope  of  these  conversations,  will  considerably 
assist  children  in  comprehending  books  when  they  begin  to  read,  and- 
will    prepare    the    way  for  their   future    study  of   many  interesting^ 


228  CONVERSATIONS  ON  OBJECTS. 

branches  of  instruction.  A  variety  of  useful  notions  is  elicited, 
which  it  would  take  many  years  to  obtain  by  the  ordinary  routine  of 
experience,  and  which  never  forms  part  of  a  college  course. 

3.  Cautious  Gradation  to  be  observed  in  these  Lessons. 

One  of  the  chief  objects  of  early  lessons  ought  to  be  to  excite  in  a  child 
such  a  love  of  knowledge  as  will  induce  him  to  be  ardent  in  its  pur- 
suit. His  natural  desire  of  variety  should  be  indulged,  and  the  grati- 
fication of  his  curiosity  should  be  combined  with  his  improvement. 
To  make  him  a  more  active*  agent  in  these  lessons,  he  should,  at  first, 
be  induced  to  point  out  objects,  the  names  or  properties  of  which  he 
does  not  know,  or  which  he  may  have  forgotton.  This  simple  act  of 
reflection  will  prepare  him  for  making  other  inquiries  afterwards.  In 
the  first  stages  of  these  lessons,  he  should  be  frequently  allowed  to 
choose  the  objects  about  which  he  wishes  to  be  informed ;  he  should 
be  particularly  encouraged  to  ask  questions  and  make  observations. 
Whatever  is  interesting  to  him  is  an  appropriate  subject  of  investiga- 
tion. He  will  learn  with  delight  new  facts  and  new  terms  connected 
with  an  object  already  familiar  to  him,  or  information  given  him  in 
answer  to  his  questions ;  and  what  he  thus  learns  he  easily  remem- 
bers. The  remarks  of  the  child  will,  in  many  cases,  show  the  in- 
structor in  what  manner  the  subject  may  be  treated.  When  the 
topics  touched  upon  are  not  new  to  him,  he  may  be  questioned  about 
them  ;  when  they  are,  he  should  receive  whatever  information  is 
suited  to  his  wants  and  age ;  the  instructor,  at  the  same  time,  keep- 
ing up  his  pupil's  attention  by  kindness  of  manner,  liveliness  of  de- 
livery, and  occasional  anecdotes. 

The  benefit  to  be  derived  from  the  conversations  on  objects  will 
greatly  depend  on  the  cautious  gradation  observed  in  introducing 
new  considerations,  and  in  not  allowing  the  lessons  to  continue  so 
long  as  to  produce  fatigue.  They  should  cease  before  the  child 
evinces  symptoms  of  weariness  ;  for  it  is  desirable  that  the  impression 
on  his  mind,  at  the  conclusion  of  the  lesson,  be  pleasurable,  in  order 
that  he  may  feel  a  lively  desire  for  its  renewal. 

These  exercises  in  observation,  which,  in  the  commencement,  ought 
not  to  exceed  a  few  minutes,  may  be  gradually  lengthened,  as  chil- 
dren acquire  with  age  greater  command  over  their  attention,  and 
greater  desire  for  information.  Many  objects  should,  at  first,  be 
offered  to  their  notice,  because  the  immaturity  of  infancy  does  not 
permit  a  minute  investigation  of  each  ;  and  attention  can  then  be 
kept  up  only  by  variety  and  novelty.  As  their  powers  of  observa- 
tion and  reflection  increase  by  exercise,  the  subjects  of  consideration 


EXERCISES  IN  REFLECTION.  229 

must  be  gradually  diminished,  until  one  may  suffice  at  a  sitting. 
Thus,  as  they  advance,  being  required  to  attend  more  closely  to  a 
single  object  for  a  greater  length  of  time,  more  unity  of  design  is 
preserved,  and  more  depth  of  information  is  acquired.  But  let  it 
never  be  forgotten  that  long  confinement  and  protracted  application 
to  one  subject  should  be  seduously  avoided.  There  must  be  no 
gloom,  no  misery,  associated  with  the  first  intellectual  exertions : 
happiness  is  the  privilege  of  childhood. 

SECT.   III. —  EXERCISES  IN  REFLECTION. 

1.  Size,  Weight,  Durability,  $-c.,  of  things. 

When  children  have  been  for  some  time  engaged  in  conversing  on 
the  subjects  above  alluded  to,  and  when  reading  can  be  practiced  con- 
currently with  and  subsidiarily  to  oral  instruction,  that  is,  toward 
the  age  of  ten  or  eleven,  the  instructor  will  introduce  considerations 
of  a  higher  character.  He  must  now  exercise  the  reflective  powers 
of  his  pupils ;  and,  for  this  purpose,  he  must  enlarge  their  sphere  of 
observation,  and  explore  with  them  the  fields  of  science. 

The  properties  of  things,  or  the  laws  of  nature  respecting  them, 
which  are  submitted  to  the  attention  of  young  persons,  must  now  be 
considered  as  the  elements  of  scientific  knowledge.  These  proper- 
ties, or,  to  speak  more  philosophically,  the  relations  in  which  things 
stand  to  each  other,  may  be  classified  under  three  heads:  1.  Rela- 
tions to  our  constitution,  as  their  color,  taste,  temperature,  form,  &c. ; 
2.  Relations  to  other  particular  substances,  as  their  compressibility, 
fusibility,  inflammability,  fragility,  &c. ;  3.  Relations  to  bodies  in 
general,  that  is,  which  may  be  predicated  of  all  bodies,  whatever  be 
their  particular  properties,  as  rest,  motion,  extension,  quantity,  &c. 
The  first  two  kinds  of  properties  are  elicited  by  comparison,  and  are 
relative:  those  of  the  third  kind  are  independent  of  relation  to  any 
particular  substance,  and  are  absolute.  The  properties  which  bodies 
possess  as  belonging  to  some  particular  class  of  beings,  form  the  data 
from  which  to  reason  in  natural  history  and  the  physical  sciences; 
the  properties  of  the  third  kind  form  the  subject  of  our  reasoning  in 
all  mathematical  investigations. 

In  addition  to  the  consideration  of  the  parts  arid  substances  of  ob- 
jects, to  the  notions  of  number,  form,  color,  and  other  sensible  prop- 
erties, to  which  we  have  already  alluded,  the  children  will  be  made 
to  estimate  the  size,  weight,  durability,  and  value  of  things,  the  rela- 
tive proportions  of  different  measures  of  the  same  kind,  the  relative 
positions  of  various  objects,  or  of  the  different  parts  of  one  object, 
their  distances  from  them,  and  from  each  other.  For  this  new  series 

3 


280  CONVERSATIONS  ON  OBJECTS. 

of  exercises  the  learners  should  be  furnished  with  the  various  m«-as- 
ures  in  common  use,  a  yard  and  foot,  a  quart,  pint,  and  quartern ; 
scales,  steelyard,  and  weights ;  a  dial  with  revolving  hands ;  gold, 
silver,  and  copper  coins  ;  a  plumb  line,  a  square  rule,  and  compasses. 
To  these  should  be  added  the  measures,  weights,  and  coins  of  any 
foreign  country  whose  language  they  are  to  learn. 

During  the  lesson  these  measures  should  always  be  at  hand, 
and  referred  to  as  a  test  in  the  examination  of  objects.  By  frequent 
application  of  them,  children  would  form  a  just  idea  of  measures  .of 
all  kinds,  of  the  subdivision  of  time  and  the  value  of  money,  an-l 
would  soon  be  familiarized  with  the  calculations  required  for  the  or- 
dinary purposes  of  life.  A  small  sum,  made  up  of  the  current  coins 
of  two  countries,  would  enable  them  to  practice  various  calculations 
in  reduction  and  exchange.  Different  graduated  measures  of  capacity 
and  weight  would  offer  similar  exercises  to  discover  their  relative 
value,  and  show  how  many  measures  of  one  kind  are  equivalent  to 
one  measure  of  the  other.  Many  interesting  arithmetical  problems 
may  be  founded  on  the  facts  thus  acquired. 

We  need  scarcely  advert  to  the  superiority  of  this  practical  in- 
struction over  the  senseless  and  irksome  task  of  learning  by  heart 
tables  of  weights  and  measures,  often  imposed  on  children,  when 
they  have  no  idea  of  what  is  meant  by  the  technical  terms  of  which 
they  are  composed.  The  details  so  often  found  in  books  of  the  value 
and  measures  of  things,  the  dimensions  of  buildings,  the  distances 
of  places,  the  hights  of  mountains,  the  length  of  rivers,  &c.,  can 
convey  but  vague  and  erroneous  ideas  to  those  who  do  not  possess 
clear  notions  of  the  current  money,  of  ounces,  pounds,  and  tons 
weight,  of  pints,  gallons,  and  bushels,  of  feet,  fathoms,  and  miles. 

The  parts  and  the  substances  of  objects  being  now  investigated 
more  philosophically  than  heretofore,  will  call  the  attention  of  the 
young  observers  to  the  classification  and  nomenclature  of  organic  and 
inorganic  matter,  and  to  the  various  departments  of  natural  history 
and  natural  philosophy.  The  mention  of  colors  may,  henceforth,  afford 
the  instructor  opportunity  of  giving  to  inquisitive  learners  an  insight 
into  the  theory  of  light,  of  explaining,  by  means  of  the  prism,  the 
phenomenon  of  the  rainbow,  and  of  investigating  many  optical  prob- 
lems. Considerations  of  quantities,  forms,  dimensions,  superficies, 
and  magnitude,  will  gradually  lead  to  practical  arithmetic,  to  the  ele- 
ments of  geometry,  and  to  the  measurement  of  plane  and  solid 
figures;  those  of  weight  to  the  principles  of  gravitation,  and,  from 
them,  to  the  elements  of  mechanics  and  astronomy  ;  those  of  distance 
to  perspective  and  to  the  mention  of  the  telescope  and  of  astronom- 


EXERCISES  IN  REFLECTION.  231 

ical  discoveries ;  those  of  durability  and  time  to  chronology  and  his- 
tory ;  those  of  value  and  cost  to  the  elements  of  wealth  and  to  the 
first  principles  of  political  economy ;  references  to  the  countries  from 
which  objects  come  will  furnish  the  opportunity  of  entering  upon 
geographical  inquiries.  Thus,  by  the  force  of  association,  number- 
less chains  of  ideas,  depending  chiefly  on  the  information  and  habits 
of  study  of  the  instructor,  will  exercise  the  reflective  powers  of  the 
young,  and  enrich  their  memory  with  extensive  and  useful  knowledge. 

2.  Physical  Geography — Geographical  box. 

Ill  all  investigations  the  instructor  should  seize  every  opportunity 
to  turn  the  conversation  on  useful  subjects.  But,  among  those  which 
may  engage  the  attention  of  the  young,  geography  is  one  of  the 
most  suitable ;  for  it  is  addressed  to  the  senses  and  memory  as  much 
as  to  the  reflective  powers. 

The  child  is  taught  l.he  points  of  the  compass  relatively,  first,  to 
the  position  of  the  room  in  which  he  is,  and,  then,  to  the  different 
parts  of  the  house.  He  may,  afterwards,  when  he  is  out  of  doors, 
ascertain  the  geographical  direction  of  the  streets,  the  course  of  the 
river,  and  the  relative  positions  of  different  buildings.  But,  before 
the  denominations  of  east,  west,  north,  and  south,  are  mentioned  to 
him,  he  should  be  told  of  the  rotundity  of  the  earth  as  well  as  of  its 
double  rotary  motion,  and  be  made  to  observe  the  direction  of  the 
sun,  its  successive  positions  in  the  heavens — in  the  morning,  at  noon, 
and  in  the  evening.  These  terms,  arising  out  of  the  want  which  he 
has  of  them,  will  be  clear,  and  easily  retained.  How  many  young 
people  are  there  who,  for  want  of  this  previous  practical  information, 
see  in  the  cardinal  points  only  the  four  sides  of  a  map  ! 

The  geographical  terms  expressive  of  the  various  natural  subdi- 
visions and  physical  characteristics  of  land  and  water  can  never  be 
defined  so  as  to  give  children  clear  and  accurate  ideas  of  the  things 
which  they  represent.  They  are  best  explained  in  the  presence  of 
the  things  themselves.  But  as  many  of  these  objects  can  not  be 
seen  in  their  natural  state,  their  place  might  be  supplied  by  a  small 
model  in  relief  of  an  imaginary  portion  of  the  earth  exhibiting  its 
principal  features. 

The  construction  of  such  a  model  presents  no  difficulty  :  the  author, 
applying  to  the  education  of  his  own  children  most  of  the  sugges- 
tions thrown  out  in  these  pages,  has  made  one  himself  for  their  use. 
A  lake,  a  Mediterranean  sea,  bays,  &c.,  are  carved  out  of  wood ;  and 
mountains,  rocks,  banks  of  rivers,  and  undulations  of  the  ground  are 
made  with  putty ;  the  whole  is  painted  in  oil  of  the  natural  color  of 


-52  CONVERSATIONS  ON  OBJECTS. 

the  objects  represented — white  for  the  snowy  peaks,  green  for  the 
valleys,  <fec.  This  model  fits  in  a  box  one  foot  square  by  two  and  a 
half  inches  in  depth,  of  which  it  occupies  the  half;  the  inside  is 
painted  a  light  bluish  green,  to  imitate  the  color  of  the  sea. 

At  the  time  of  using  this  box  it  is  half  till.  <1  with  u.it.-r,  which, 
coming  in  contact  with  the  sides  of  the  model  and  passing  under  it, 
produces  peninsulas,  bays,  harbors,  creeks,  lakes,  <fec. ;  and  thus  gives 
a  faithful  and  most  vivid  representation  of  the  physical  character  of 
the  terrestrial  and  aqueous  globe.  To  add  to  tin-  u-'t'uliu-^  of  thi> 
apparatus,  a  magnetic  needle  is  placed  on  a  pivot  fixed  on  one  of  the 
mountains,  thus  indicating  the  relative  geographical  position  of  every 
spot 

We  need  scarcely  say  that  a  geographical  lesson  founded  on  these 
elements  is  highly  instructive  and  entertaining  to  young  children. 
Their  natural  curiosity  is  excited  at  the  sight  of  this  model ;  and 
they  anxiously  expect  any  information  which  the  instructor  is  about 
to  impart  to  them  on  the  physical  constitution  of  the  globe,  and  the 
natural  phenomena  connected  with  its  existence.  They  may  be 
called  upon  to  define  in  their  own  words  all  the  terms,  of  which  they 
have  the  sensible  signification  before  their  eyes ;  they  see  that  an 
island  is  the  counterpart  of  a  lake;  a  cape,  of  a  bay;  an  isthmus, 
of  a  strait :  guided  by  the  needle,  they  may  be  made  to  state  the 
relative  position  of  different  places,  as  well  as  the  direction  of  streams 
and  chains  of  mountains  in  reference  to  the  points  of  the  compass. 
A  survey  of  this  fac-simile  will  give  them  an  idea  of  the  innumer- 
able beauties  of  the  terrestrial  surface ;  it  will  bring  to  their  notice 
its  verdant  plains,  its  diversified  hills,  its  winding  rivers,  expanding 
as  they  run  down  to  the  sea,  which  spreads  its  immense  sheet  over 
more  than  half  the  globe.  They  may  be  told  of  the  indispensable 
agency  of  water  toward  the  fertility  of  the  earth,  the  existence  of 
man,  the  arts  of  life,  and  international  communication ;  they  may  be 
told  of  navigation  in  modern  and  ancient  times,  of  the  mariner's 
compass  and  the  polar  star,  of  sailing  and  steam  vessels,  of  maritime 
discoveries,  of  celebrated  navigators  and  travelers,  and  of  many  other 
interesting  subjects,  which  would  be  called  to  mind  by  the  sight  of 
land  and  water. 

Children  take  a  lively  pleasure  in  traveling,  with  the  end  of  a 
pointer,  over  this  Lilliputian  world,  and  naming  each  place  as  they 
journey  on,  sometimes  following  down  a  river  from  its  source  to  its 
mouth,  or  seeking  a  defile  in  a  mountain  to  pass  into  the  valley  at 
the  other  side ;  sometimes  resting  on  a  table-land,  or  ascending  a 
peak ;  at  other  times,  going  along  the  coasts  over  strands  and  cliffs, 


EXERCISES  IN  REFLEITION.  233 

standing  on  a  promontory,  or  venturing  on  a  sand-bank  ;  now  and 
then  shouting  with  joy  at  the  discovery  of  a  volcano,  a  cavern,  a 
grotto,  a  cascade,  or  a  cataract  All  these  objects  will  recall  to  the 
iniii'l  of  an  instructor  conversant  with  the  wonders  of  our  planet,  the 
MX '*t  remarkable  among  their  corresponding  realities ;  the  occasional 
ID- ution  of  them,  at  the  moment  when  his  young  hearers'  attention 
i<  ri*»'ti-d  on  the  subject,  could  not  fail  to  be  eagerly  received.  These 
:raphical  topics  will  by  an  immediate  connection  turn  the  conver- 
>ation  on  geological  and  atmospheric  inquiries,  on  the  structure  of 
thf  t-arth,  and  the  distribution  of  organic  life  over  its  surface ;  its 
mines  of  coal,  salt,  metals,  and  diamonds;  its  various  strata  and  fos- 
sil remains;  on  tides  and  winds,  hot  and  mineral  springs,  water- 
spouts, earthquakes,  volcanic  eruptions,  and  a  thousand  other  natural 
phenomena.  Thus  will  they,  in  an  impressive  manner,  become  rap- 
idly and  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  elements  of  physical  geog- 
raphy and  the  great  laws  of  nature,  and  be  "excited,  at  their  entrance 
upon  these  studies,  by  the  desire  of  proceeding  farther. 

When  a  child  has  been  familiarized  with  these  elements,  his  next 
step  will  consist  in  being  made  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  maps, 
that  he  may  early  know  how  to  use  them,  and  be  induced  to  refer  to 
them  in  the  course  of  his  reading.  This  he  will  accomplish  most 
effectually  by  constructing  some  himself,  under  the  guidance  of  his 
instructor.  If  he  has  been  early  encouraged  to  sketch  from  nature, 
he  will  easily  draw  with  reference  to  the  points  of  the  compass  the 
plan  or  map  of  the  room  in  which  he  studies,  and  afterwards  that 
of  the  premises  and  grounds  surrounding  the  house  in  which  he 
liv.-s.  This  will  enable  him  the  better  to  understand  the  relations 
which  maps  bear  to  the  reality,  and  consequently  to  refer  to  them 
with  the  more  profit. 

Afti-r  he  has  executed  several   maps  of  particular  places,  he  may 

iind'-rtake   the   tracing  of  whole  countries.     A   black  globe  of  two 

in  diameter,  at  the  least,  made  so  as  to  admit  of  delineations  in 

chalk,  would  considerably  facilitate  this  object  and  enable  him   to 

solve  many  geographical  questions.* 

The  clear  notions  of  number  and  measures  which  the  child  may, 
l.y  this  time,  have  acquired  will  facilitate  his  further  progress  in  the 
study  of  geography,  by  enabling  him  to  conceive  rightly  the  various 
numerical  considerations  which  occur  as  part  of  that  science,  such  as 
the  superficies  of  the  earth,  the  extent  of  countries,  the  relative  dis- 
tance of  places,  the  amount  of  population,  the  length  of  rivers,  the 
hight  of  mountains,  the  measure  of  degrees,  and  others. 

*  Such  Globes  are  made  by  Candee  &  Co.,  New  Haven,  Conn. 


234  CONVERSATIONS  ON   OBJECTS. 

3.  Political  Geography;  Globe  with  National  Flags. 

Equal  in  importance  to  a  knowledge  of  the  physical  constitution 
of  our  globe  is  an  acquaintance  with  the  various  races  of  men  who 
cover  its  surface,  and  the  numerous  political  communities  into  which 
they  are  formed.  A  complete  course  of  geography  should  comprise 
these  different  subjects  of  consideration.  When  children  have  clear 
notions  of  the  extent,  form,  composition,  and  external  configuration 
of  the  earth,  they  may  with  profit  be  told  of  the  different  countries 
into  which  it  has  been  subdivided,  and  be  informed  of  their  resources, 
and  of  every  thing  relating  to  the  nations  by  which  they  are  inhab- 
ited. This  information  constitutes  political  geography,  which  is  the 
foundation  of  political  science ;  for,  unless  we  know  the  condition  of 
a  country  and  its  inhabitants,  we  can  not  reason  correctly  on  their 
wants,  customs,  and  means  of  prosperity. 

The  elements  of  the  condition  of  a  country  are  either  natural  or 
artificial.  The  natural  elements  are  its  geographical  position,  its 
climate,  its  boundaries,  its  coast-line,  the  character  of  its  rivers,  and 
the  quality  of  its  soil,  its  mineral,  vegetable,  or  animal  productions, 
and  lastly,  its  population ;  the  artificial  elements  consist  of  the  civil 
and  political  institutions  of  the  people,  their  agriculture,  manufacture, 
and  commerce;  their  progress  in  the  arts  and  sciences;  their  Ian 
guage,  literature,  religion,  and  mode  of  life.  The  attention  of  the 
learners  should  be  directed  to  all  these  subjects  in  turn,  as  circum- 
stances afford  opportunities  of  entering  upon  them.  They  should, 
especially,  be  shown  how  the  natural  elements  of  a  country,  by  de- 
termining the  character  and  peculiar  energies  of  the  people,  influ- 
ence their  industrial,  social,  moral,  and  intellectual  habits. 

As  an  introduction  to  the  first  elements  of  political  geography  we 
would  recommend  the  use  of  a  globe  containing  only  the  terrestrial 
and  aqueous  configuration  of  the  earth,  with  the  national  boundaries 
of  the  different  countries  and  an  indication  of  their  capitals.  The 
ohild,  who  has  to  learn  these  first  notions,  can,  with  this  globe,  easily 
attend  to  them  without  the  confusion  which,  in  using  the  ordinary 
maps  and  globe,  arises  from  the  numerous  names  and  lines  of  rivers 
with  which  they  are  covered,  and  which  are  not  needed  at  the  out- 
set. But  to  render  this  first  study  more  impressive  and  more  inter- 
esting, we  connect  it  with  another  branch  of  information,  which, 
although  most  useful  through  life,  has  been  totally  overlooked  in  the 
education  of  youth.  We  allude  to  those  emblems  which,  floating  in 
the  breeze,  proclaim  all  over  the  globe  the  existence  and  power  of  the 
nations  which  they  represent. 


EXERCISES  IN  REFLECTION. 


UNIVERSITY 

or 


An  acquaintance  with  national  flags  is  indispensable  to  naval  and 
military  men,  and  useful  to  all  the  members  of  a  commercial  com- 
munity ;  for  they  serve  to  distinguish  the  different  nations  in  their 
political,  military,  and  commercial  relations.  The  distinctive  flags 
of  the  numerous  ships  which  crowd  our  harbors  arid  docks  are  to 
him  who  is  acquainted  with  them  the  source  of  much  valuable  in- 
formation. They  exhibit  in  one  view  our  commercial  intercourse 
with  foreign  nations;  they  lead  the  mind  to  an  inquiry  into  the 
nature  of  our  imports  and  exports,  and  hence  into  an  investigation 
of  our  agricultural  and  manufacturing  produce. 

The  child,  having  been  told  the  names  of  the  nations  to  which  the 
flags  belong,  is  desired  to  place  these  in  the  capitals  of  the  countries 
to  which  they  belong,  and  which  are  indicated  by  small  holes  into 
which  the  ends  of  the  flag-staffs  are  made  to  fit.  It  may  be  easily 
conceived  how  amusing  and  instructive  he  will  find  the  occupation 
of  planting  these  standards  in  their  proper  places.  When  they  have 
been  distributed  all  over  the  globe,  the  pleasing  effect  which  their 
variegated  colors  and  their  different  emblems  present  to  his  eye  pow- 
erfully fixes  his  attention  :  he  sees  at  one  glance,  and  in  a  striking 
manner,  the  relative  positions  of  all  nations,  and  their  various  pos- 
sessions abroad. 

In  order  to  extend  still  farther  the  utility  of  this  geographical  ap- 
paratus, the  size  of  the  flags  should  vary  with  the  degree  of  political 
power  of  each  nation,  and  the  length  of  the  staff's  with  the  extent  of 
territory  of  each  country.  On  the  staffs  may  be  inscribed  the 
amount  of  population  of  the  respective  countries,  their  superficies  in 
square  miles,  and  the  names  of  their  capitals.  In  addition  to  these 
fundamental  notions,  the  instructor  could,  now  and  then,  as  any.  flag 
engages  the  attention  of  his  young  pupils,  associate  with  it  much 
useful  information  concerning  the  people  to  whom  it  belongs.  He 
may  speak  of  their  mode  of  government,  their  customs,  national 
character,  and  degree  of  civilization  ;  of  the  pursuits  in  which  they 
-are  most  remarkable,  and  the  discoveries  and  inventions  with  which 
they  have  benefited  humanity  ;  of  their  standard  works,  and  the  ad- 
Tantages  to  be  derived  from  a  knowledge  of  their  language. 

With  this  apparatus,  and  in  the  case  especially  of-  young  persons 
of  the  upper  ranks,  a  well-informed  teacher  may  highly  entertain  his 
pupils  with  interesting  narratives  relating  to  the  veneration  of  people 
for  their  national  flags,  the  honor  attached  to  their  defense,  or  to  the 
taking  of  one  belonging  to  an  enemy,  and  the  deeds  of  valor  to 
-which  both  gave  rise  in  ancient  and  modern  wars.  A  description  of- 
the  armorial  bearings  of  nations  and  noble  families,  which  originated 


236  CONVERSATIONS  ON  OBJECTS. 

in  the  crusades,  and  are  emblazoned  on  their  different  banners  ana 
coats  of  arms,  as  also  an  account  of  the  origin  of  feudal  distinctions, 
and  their  emblematic  mode  of  transmission  to  posterity  through  the 
devices  of  heraldry,  would  excite  in  high  spirited  youths  a  lively  in- 
terest in  the  chivalrous  exploits  of  their  ancestors,  and  in  the  history 
of  the  middle  ages  ;  the  inquiries  might  be  continued  down  to  mod- 
ern times,  in  following  the  traces  of  these  distinctions  still  percepti 
ble  in  the  military  uniforms  of  nations  and  the  liveries  of  privaie- 
families. 

In  concluding  these  suggestions  on  the  mode  of  introducing  young 
persons  to  the  study  of  geography,  we  will  extract  from  an  Ameri- 
can writer  (Horace  Mann's  '-'•Report  on  Schools  in  Europe?}  u 
short  and  lively  description  of  a  lesson  on  this  subject,  delivered  in 
his  presence  by  a  German  professor  to  an  elementary  class.  We  fed 
the  more  inclined  to  do  so,  as  it  shows  the  value  of  linear  drawing 
in  teaching,  and  presents  a  new  feature  in  geographical  instruction. 

"The  teacher  stood  by  the  blackboard  with  the  chalk  in  his  hand. 
After  casting  his  eye  over  the  class  to  see  that  all  were  ready,  he 
struck  at  the  middle  of  the  board.  With  a  rapidity  of  hand  which 
my  eye  could  hardly  follow,  lie  made  a  series  of  those  short  diver- 
gent lines,  or  shadings,  employed  by  map-engravers  to  represent  a 
chain  of  mountains.  He  had  scarcely  turned  an  angle,  or  shot  off  a 
sjtur,  when  the  scholars  began  to  cry  out,  'Carpathian  Mountainsr 
Hungary,  Black  Forest  Mountains,  Wirtemberg,'  <fec. 

"In  less  than  half  a  minute,  the  ridge  of  that  grand  -central  ele- 
vation, which  separates  the  waters  that  flow  north-west  into  the  Ger- 
man Ocean,  from  those  that  flow  north  into  the  Baltic,  and  south- 
east into  the  Black  Sea,  was  presented  to  view,  executed  almost  as 
beautifully  as  an  engraving.  A  dozen  crinkling  strokes,  made  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye,  represented  the  head  waters  of  the  great  rivers 
which  flow  in  different  directions  from  that  mountainous  range  ;  while 
the  children,  almost  as  eager  and  excited  as  though  they  had  actually 
seen  the  torrents  dashing  down  the  mountain  sides,  cried  out  '  Danube^ 
Elbe,  Vistula,  Oder,'  &c.  The  next  moment  I  heard  a  succession  of 
small  strokes,  or  taps,  so  rapid  as  to  be  almost  indistinguishable,  and 
hardly  had  my  eye  time  to  discern  a  large  number  of  dots  made 
along  the  margins  of  the  rivers,  when  the  shout  of  '  Lintz,  Vienna, 
Prague,  Dresden,'  &c.,  struck  my  ear.  At  this  point  in  the  exercise, 
the  spot  which  had  been  occupied  on  the  blackboard  was  nearly  a 
circle,  of  which  the  starting-point,  or  place  where  the  teacher  first 
began,  was  the  center,  but  now  a  few  additional  strokes  around  the 
circumferance  of  the  incipient  continent  extended  the  mountain 


EXERCISES  IN  REFLECTION.  237 

ranges  outwards  toward  the  plain — the  children  responding  the 
names  of  the  countries  in  which  they  respectively  lay.  With  a  few 
more  flourishes  the  rivers  flowed  onwards,  toward  their  several  term- 
inations, and,  by  another  succession  of  dots,  new  cities  sprang  up 
along  their  banks.  By  this  time  the  children  had  become  as  much 
•excited  as  though  they  had  been  present  at  a  world-making.  They 
rose  in  their  seats,  they  flung  out  both  hands,  and  their  eyes  kindled 
as  they  cried  out  the  names  of  the  different  places,  which,  under  the 
magic  of  the  teacher's  crayon,  rose  into  view.  Within  ten  minutes 
from  the  commencement  of  the  lesson,  there  stood  upon  the  black- 
board a  beautiful  map  of  Germany,  with  its  mountains,  principal 
rivers,  and  cities,  the  coast  of  the  German  Ocean,  of  the  Baltic  and 
the  Black  Seas,  and  all  so  accurately  proportioned,  that  I  think  only 
slight  errors  would  have  been  found,  had  it  been  subjected  to  the 
test  of  a  scale  of  miles.  A  part  of  this  time  was  taken  up  in  cor- 
recting a  few  mistakes  of  the  pupils — for  the  teacher's  mind  seemed 
to  be  in  his  ear  as  well  as  in  his  hand — and,  notwithstanding  the  as- 
tonishing celerity  of  his  movements,  he  detected  erroneous  answers, 
and  turned  round  to  correct  them.  The  rest  of  the  lesson  consisted 
in  questions  and  answers  respecting  productions,  climate,  soil,  ani- 
mals, &c.,  <fec." 

"  Compare,"  the  author  adds,  "  the  effects  of  such  a  lesson  as  this, 
both  as  to  the  amount  of  the  knowledge  communicated  and  the 
vividness,  and,  of  course,  the  permanence,  of  the  ideas  obtained,  with 
a  lesson  where  the  scholars  look  out  a  few  names  of  places  on  a  life- 
less Atlas,  but  never  send  their  imaginations  abroad  over  the  earth, 
and  where  the  teacher  sits  listlessly  down  before  them  to  interrogate 
them  from  a  book,  in  which  all  the  questions  are  printed  at  full 
length,  to  supersede,  on  his  part,  all  necessity  of  knowledge." 

4.  History  and  Chronology. 

Connected  with  political  geography  and  the  subdivisions  of  the 
globe  is  the  history  of  its  inhabitants  at  different  periods.  Children 
may  be  made  acquainted  with  the  most  celebrated  characters  of  vari- 
ous nations,  and  the  most  remarkable  events  of  their  history,  as  par- 
ticular countries  are  brought  to  their  notice  in  the  course  of  the  con- 
versation— the  instructor  taking  care  always  to  associate  with  the 
historical  fact  the  time  and  place  at  which  it  occurred.  It  is  particu- 
larly from  sensible  objects,  from  engravings,  pictures,  statues,  bas- 
reliefs,  and  ancient  monuments,  that  they  should  incidentally  receive 
their  first  notions  of  history  and  chronology.  Pictorial  illustrations, 
-which  so  generally  accompany  the  text  of  modern  publications,  may 


238  CONVERSATIONS  ON  OBJECTS. 

easily  be  procured;  they  will,  from  the  vividness  and  permanency  of 
visual  impressions,  be  a  useful  auxiliary,  in  fixing  historical  facts  on- 
the  memory. 

Some  regularity,  however,  may  be  introduced  in  this  branch  of 
instruction  by  means  of  synoptical  tables  of  events  and  kings,  ar- 
ranged chronologically  and  synchronically.  With  one  of  these  tables,. 
a  well  informed  teacher  will  be  enabled  to  impart  to  his  pupils  a 
large  amount  of  interesting  information  on  the  history  of  the  nation, 
which  is,  at  the  time,  the  object  of  their  consideration.  This  instruc- 
tion should,  at  first,  be  purely  narrative,  the  teacher  confining  him- 
self to  memorable  events,  heroic  actions,  remarkable  sayings,  and  all 
those  beautiful  traits,  which,  while  they  interest  young  persons,  tend 
to  elevate  their  minds,  and  excite  in  them  a  taste  for  historical 
studies. 

It  needs  scarcely  be  observed  that  children  should  at  first  be  in- 
troduced to  the  history  of  their  own  country  in  preference  to  that  of 
any  other ;  their  attention  should  next  be  directed  to  sacred  history, 
which,  going  back  to  the  origin  of  the  world,  is  the  best  preparation, 
for  the  study  of  ancient  history  and  for  the  reading  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures.  With  those  who  are  destined  to  receive  a  classical  edu- 
cation, Rome,  Greece,  and  their  mythology  may  be  made  occasion- 
ally subjects  of  conversation :  and,  in  general,  the  history  of  any 
nation,  whose  language  is  being  or  is  to  be  learned,  should  be  mad»* 
an  object  of  instruction,  either  orally  or  through  books,  earlier  than 
would  otherwise  be  desirable. 

In  alluding  to  dates,  the  children  should  be  led  gradually  from  the 
present  time,  through  a  series  of  epochs  not  very  distant  from  each 
other,  up  to  the  one  referred  to.  Chronology  and  history  should, 
in  fact,  be  taught  upwards,  from  the  most  recent  to  the  most  ancient 
dates,  if  we  wish  young  learners  to  form  a  clear*conception  of  remote 
eras.  They  will  benefit  the  more  from  the  past,  as  they  understand 
better  the  present,  and  can  compare  one  with  the  other. 

A  regular  course  of  historical  studies,  however,  can  be  pursued  only 
by  means  of  a  series  of  works  free  at  first  from  any  detail  of  wars  and 
political  events,  and  increasing  in  minuteness  and  seriousness  of  mat- 
ter progressively  with  the  intellectual  advancement  of  the  learners. 
The  information  which  they  will  thus  acquire  will  be  best  retained 
by  making  it  a  subject  of  conversation  with  the  instructor,  or  by 
simply  narrating  in  their  own  words  as  much  as  they  can  remember. 
Should  any  important  particulars  be  forgotten,  the  teacher  may  recall 
them  and  direct  the  attention  of  his  pupils  to  them  for  a  second 
perusal.  In  order  that  they  may  receive  from  their  historical  studies 


EXERCISES  IN  REFLECTION.  239- 

useful  lessons  of  morality  and  political  science,  he  should  accustom 
them  to  reflect  on  the  motives  of  action  and  the  passions  of  men,  on 
the  concatenation  of  events  and  their  effects  on  the  condition  of  the 
people,  on  the  principles  of  good  government,  and  the  causes  which 
produce  either  the  happiness  and  prosperity,  or  the  misery  and  ruin 
of  a  nation.  But  this  regular  course  can  not  be  entered  upon  at  a 
very  early  age  :  this  would  be  more  dangerous  than  profitable.  His- 
tory to  a  young  child  would  only  be  a  confused  collection  of  facts ; 
for  he  could  not  perceive  their  relations  with  each  other,  nor  appre- 
ciate their  causes  and  consequences;  and  these  facts,  being  read  with- 
out discernment,  could  but  impair  his  understanding.  As  it  records 
more  injustice  and  bloodshed  than  virtue  and  philanthropy,  he  would 
thus  be  early  accustomed  to  depravity.  It  is  best  learned  after  the 
age  of  fifteen  ;  until  this  time,  young  people  may  prepare  for  it  by 
the  study  of  geography  and  the  perusal  of  voyages  and  travels. 

History  is  particularly  objectionable,  as  are  all  purely  intellectual 
pursuits,  during  the.  first  two  periods  of  youth,  because  it  does  not 
exercise  the  powers  of  perception  and  observation.  Those  branches 
of  knowledge  should  be  preferred,  which  are  favorable  to  out-of- 
door  instruction,  and  which  take  for  their  theme  the  works  of  the 
Creation. 

5.  Excursions  in  the  Country,  and  visits  to  Manufactories. 

A  child  may  be  introduced  to  the  elements  of  physical  knowledge, 
in  his  walks  in  the  country,  in  the  garden,  or  by  the  water-side.  He 
may  be  made  to  observe  the  hills  and  valleys,  islands  and  lakes,  fields 
and  woods  ;  the  immense  variety  of  plants,  and  the  action  of  light, 
heat,  and  rain  upon  them ;  the  different  kinds  of  soils  and  the  con- 
sequent varieties  of  vegetation  ;  the  origin  of  streams,  the  direction 
of  the  winds,  their  important  office  in  nature,  and  their  immense 
benefit  to  man.  The  changes  which  take  place  from  one  season  to 
another  should  not  be  allowed  to  pass  unnoticed  :  interesting  phe- 
nomena occur  at  every  period  of  the  year,  in  the  spring,  especially, 
when  the  air,  earth,  and  water  are  teeming  with  life.  Let  him  watch 
the  progress  of  the  leaves,  buds,  flowers,  fruits,  and  seeds  of  plants ; 
let  him  follow  the  operations  of  nature  in  her  various  states,  and  ob- 
serve the  assistance  which  she  receives  from  agriculture.  At  other 
times,  let  his  attention  be  directed  to  animated  nature;  ihe  active 
scene  around  him  will  present  new  and  endless  subjects  of  inquiry; 
the  birds  which  fly  on  all  sides,  the  cattle  which  graze  in  the  meadow, 
the  insects  which  creep  at  his  feet,  or  buzz  in  the  air,  all  will  afford 
inexhaustible  sources  of  most  valuable  instruction.  If  his  curiosity 


240 


CONVERSATIONS  ON  OBJECTS. 


be  judiciously  excited  and  directed,  be  will  watcb  witb  deep  intnv-t 
tbe  varied  and  astonisbing  instincts  by  which  these  infinitely  diversi- 
fied beings  sustain  their  existence,  unconsciously  but  unerringly 
guided  by  their  bountiful  Creator. 

Such  lessons  are  peculiarly  suited  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  country, 
who,  passing  their  lives  in  the  presence  of  nature,  may  derive  con- 
tinual profit  and  pleasure  from  the  study  of  her  laws,  and  the  con- 
templation of  her  wonders.  To  a  person  whose  attention  has  not 
been  duly  awakened  to  the  external  world,  and  who  has  not  been 
early  accustomed  to  observe,  all  the  admirable  works  of  creation  are 
lo>t,  the  surface  of  the  earth  is  a  blank.  The  busy  scene  of  nature 
passes  before  an  uii practiced  eye,  without  communicating  an  idea  to 
the  mind,  and  without  kindling  the  spirit  of  devout  adoration  of  Him, 
whose  universal  lo\v  smiles  everywhere. 

It  is  but  another  proof  of  the  harmony  of  design  in  all  the  works 
of  the  Creator,  that  this  method  of  directly  cultivating  the  observing 
faculty  can  not  be  adequately  carried  out  without  a  certain  amount 
of  muscular  exertion,  and  of  daily  exposure  to  the  open  air,  in  col- 
1'Tting  and  examining  the  varied  objects  of  interest  with  which  crea- 
tion abounds.  In  other  words,  we  can  not  benefit  the  perceptive  fac- 
ulties without,  at  the  same  time,  benefiting  the  muscular  system  and 
th"  organs  of  respiration,  circulation,  and  digestion  ;  and  this  grand 
recommendation  in  the  eye  of  reason— pursuing  study  in  the  field 
of  nature  instead  of  in  books  alone — is  actually,  though  not  avow- 
edly, that  which  retards  its  adoption  in  ordinary  education.  A  ram- 
ble from  the  school-room  into  the  country  to  survey  the  works  of 
God,  is  deemed  an  encouragement  to  idleness  and  a  love  of  pleasure ; 
and,  therefore,  it  is  denied. 

In  rural  excursions  the  sight  should  be  exercised  in  distinguishing 
remote  objects,  and  appreciating  their  number,  forms,  and  dimen- 
sions ;  their  distance  should  be  estimated  by  the  eye,  and  immedi- 
ately verified  by  measurement.  Short  distances  may  be  ascertained 
by  paces,  and  longer  ones  by  noticing  the  time  consumed  in  passing 
over  them.  Thus,  the  relation  existing  between  space,  time,  and 
motion  may  be  shown  in  measuring  the  one  by  the  other.  Let  the 
child  find  out  what  space  can  be  passed  over  in  a  given  time,  or  with 
a  u'iven  velocity;  what  time  is  required  to  walk  or  run,  at  a  certain 
rate,  over  a  certain  distance ;  what  rapidity  of  motion  is  requisite  to 
reach  a  determined  point  in  a  given  time.  Such  practices  would 
prove  useful  iu  many  ways.  The  estimating  of  distances  at  sight, 
which  in  some  people  seems  an  intuitive  act,  is  merely  the  result  of 
habit ;  yet,  how  few  can  judge  with  even  tolerable  accuracy  of  the 


EXERCISES  IN  REFLECTION.  241 

Distances  at  which  objects  are  from  each  other,  and  from  their  own 
•eye !  To  estimate  the  angle  which  objects  make  at  the  eye,  is  an- 
other practice  of  real  utility  to  all  men,  and  to  naval  and  military 
men  in  particular. 

A  country  residence  is  most  favorable  for  pursuing  all  these  exer- 
cises. To  those  who  are  confined  within  the  precincts  of  a  town  we 
would  recommend  occasional  visits  to  foundries,  factories,  and  work- 
shops :  art,  as  well  as  nature,  abounds  in  sources  of  instruction.  In 
these  visits  a  child  would  witness  the  facts  which  have  already  been 
made  the  subjects  of  his  conversations,  and  would  see  the  applica- 
tion of  the  .sciences  which  will  subsequently  demand  his  attention. 
Thus  would  mechanical  and  intellectual  pursuits  assist  each  other. 
>k  What  an  immense  stock  of  scientific  principles,"  says  Dugald  Stew- 
art, "  lie  buried  amid  the  details  of  manufactures  and  of  arts !  We 
may  form  an  idea  of  this  from  an  acknowledgment  of  Mr.  Boyle, 
that  he  had  learned  more  by  frequenting  the  shops  of  tradesmen  than 
from  all  the  volumes  he  had  read." 

He  whose  mind  has  been  early  familiarized  with  the  interesting 
scenes  of  nature  and  the  wonders  of  art,  will  never  lose  the  impres- 
sive lessons  which  they  teach.  Long  after,  in  the  ardor  of  literary 
composition,  or  amidst  the  excitement  of  public  assemblies,  their 
vivid  images  will  reappear  in  their  pristine  luster  to  give  happy 
expression  to  thoughts  which  shall  then  be  awakened  by  passing 
events. 

6.  Natural  History,  Mineralogy,  Geology,  Botany,  Zoology. 

When,  by  casual  consideration  of  objects,  children  have  been  famil- 
iarized with  a  variety  of  natural  substances,  the  teacher,  introducing 
more  order  into  his  lessons,  may  venture  on  classifications,  and  treat 
methodically  of  the  three  kingdoms  of  nature.  This  subject  will  fur- 
nish favorable  opportunities  for  making  frequent  reference  to  physical 
geography,  with  which  it  is  closely  associated,  by  reason  of  the  diver- 
sity of  organic  and  inorganic  beings,  consequent  on  the  difference  of 
climate  in  various  parts  of  the  globe;  whilst  the  practice  of  distin- 
guishing the  characteristic  features  of  these  beings,  and  following  the 
chain  which  connects  them,  is  highly  calculated  to  improve  the  per- 
ceptive and  observant  powers,  and  to  create  habits  of  nice  discrimina- 
tion. The  amazing  variety  of  interesting  objects  which  natural  his- 
tory offers  for  consideration,  and  the  admirable  adaptation  of  means 
-to  ends  which  they  exhibit,  render  it  the  fittest  branch  of  knowledge 
for  exciting  in  young  people  a  spirit  of  inquiry,  and  a  sense  of  the 
infinite  power,  wisdom,  and  goodness  of  God. 

Mineralogy  may  be  made  an  object  of  attention  in  the  first  stages 


242  CONVERSATIONS  ON  OBJECTS. 

of  instruction.  The  distinctive  qualities  of  inert  matter  are  more  sim- 
ple and  less  numerous  than  those  of  vegetable  and  animal  substan- 
ces ;  they  are  more  distinct  and  better  defined.  Minerals,  different 
from  plants  and  animals,  can  be  kept  within  reach,  and  exhibited  in 
all  their  different  states.  The  brilliant  colors  of  gems  and  metallic 
ores,  as  also  their  crystallization,  a  most  striking  feature  of  the  ex- 
ternal character  of  minerals,  are  well  calculated  10  excite  the  curiosity 
of  children  and  to  fix  their  attention.  The  singular  properties  of 
diamonds,  gold,  quicksilver,  and  the  loadstone,  and  the  great  diver- 
sity of  purposes  to  which  these  minerals,  and,  more  especially,  silver, 
copper,  lead,  and  iron,  are  appropriated,  should  be  offered  to  their 
notice,  as  also  the  chief  attributes  of  metals — their,  luster,  sonorous- 
ness, tenacity,  malleability,  ductility,  fusibility,  specific  gravity.  The 
examination  of  metals  will  naturally  lead  to  the  mention  of  mines, 
the  modes  of  working  them,  the  countries  where  they  are  found,  and 
the  curious  processes  of  metallurgy.  . 

Closely  connected  with  mineralogy  is  geology,  which  presents  a 
most  interesting  field  of  research ;  it  carries  the  mind  from  the  con- 
sideration of  rocks  and  mines,  of  mountains  and  valleys,  to  the  pe- 
riod of  their  creation,  and,  by  a  natural  transition,  to  Him  who 
created  them.  Geology  is,  as  it  were,  the  earth's  autobiography, 
written  in  symbolical  and  unmistakable  language.  Young  persons 
should  be  familiarized  with  its  elements  and  general  outlines  as  soon 
as  they  can  comprehend  them.  They  may  be  told  of  the  composi- 
tion and  arrangement  of  the  materials  which  form  the  crust  of  our 
globe,  of  the  changes  which  are  continually  wrought  on  its  surface 
by  the  agency  of  inundations,  earthquakes,  volcanoes,  and  of  the 
admirable  contrivances  by  which  it  has  been  rendered,  throughout 
successive  ages,  capable  of  supporting  countless  myriads  of  organic 
existences. 

The  important  functions  which  plants  perform  in  the  economy  of 
nature,  the  arts  of  civilization,  and  the  support  of  life,  claim  for  bot- 
any a  prominent  place  in  modern  education.  Few  objects  in  the 
external  world  are  more  interesting  than  vegetable  productions,  and, 
especially,  flowers  and  fruits,  whose  richness  of  coloring,  as  well  as 
endless  diversity  of  hues,  forms,  fragrance,  and  flavor,  excite  admira- 
tion for  the  wonderful  display  of  power  and  goodness  which  they 
proclaim  in  their  Author.  The  instructor  should  bring  to  his  pupil's 
notice  the  influence  of  climate  and  culture  on  vegetation,  the  im- 
mense variety  of  plants,  their  exquisite  perfection  and  universal  use- 
fulness ;  he  should  explain  their  structure  and  the  functions  of  their 
organs,  their  mode  of  nourishment,  of  propagation,  and  their  growth, 


EXERCISES  IN  REFLECTION.  243 

the  nutritious  properties  of  some  and  medicinal  properties  of  others. 
Every  botanical  fact  shows  design,  and  affords  matter  for  serious  con- 
sideration, such  as  the  natural  dissemination  of  seeds,  the  successive 
changes  of  plants,  the  invariable  direction  of  roots  and  branches,  the 
circulation  of  the  sap,  the  transpiration  of  the  leaves,  their  happy 
distribution  for  the  reception  of  light,  air,  and  water,  the  purification 
of  the  atmosphere  by  their  absorbent  powers,  and  many  other  sur- 
prising phenomena  of  the  vegetable  kingdom. 

To  make  children  acquainted  with  plants,  their  names  and  botani- 
cal character,  the  instructor  may,  at  first,  place  before  them  only  a 
few  of  the  most  familiar  species,  and  gradually  introduce  to  their 
notice  flowers,  shrubs,  and  trees,  less  common — passing  from  indige- 
nous to  exotic,  with  the  assistance  of  pictorial  representations.  By 
helping  them  to  examine  in  what  particular  each  differs  from  the 
others — independently,  however,  at  first,  of  scientific  nomenclature — 
he  will  enable  them  soon  to  distinguish  the  leading  characters  of  a 
great  number  of  plants,  and  will  open  their  minds  to  endless  subjects 
of  admiration  in  the  infinite  variety  of  nature. 

Different  specimens  of  timber  may  also  be  presented  to  them, 
which  will  further  engage  their  attention  in  discriminating  between 
the  properties  of  wood,  and  thence  lead  to  a  consideration  of  its 
usefulness.  There  is  scarcely  a  plant  of  which  the  whole  or  some 
portion  is  not  employed  for  food,  medicine,  clothing,  or  furniture,  for 
distilling,  dying,  tanning,  building,  or  other  useful  arts  of  life.  In 
fact,  the  innumerable  uses  to  which  vegetable  as  well  as  mineral  sub- 
stances are  applied  by  man  for  satisfying  his  wants  or  multiplying 
his  enjoyments,  may  be  exhibited  in  every  thing  around :  such  co^ 
siderations  will  be  an  excellent  preparation  for  entering  upon  the 
study  of  the  physical  sciences. 

Zoology  will  afford  endless  subjects  of  familiar  conversation,  both 
amusing  and  instructive.  The  lively  interest  which  children  usually 
take  in  animals  renders  these  suitable  objects  for  giving  them  ele- 
mentary notions  of  natural  history.  The  domestic  species  should,  at 
first,  engage  their  attention,  and,  afterwards,  by  means  of  colored 
prints,  the  most  remarkable  among  those  which  do  not  come  within 
daily  observation,  may  be  made  the  subjects  of  very  useful  lessons. 
The  fidelity  and  sagacity  of  the  dog,  the  docility  of  the  horse,  the 
intelligence  of  the  elephant,  the  industry  of  the  beaver,  the  persever- 
ing fortitude  of  the  camel,  the  generous  magnanimity  of  the  lion, 
will  supply  matter  for  entertaining  narratives,  serious  reflections,  and 
incentives  to  further  inquiries.  The  instructor  may  speak  of  the 
varieties  of  animals  differing  with  the  latitudes  in  which  they  live,,^ 


244  CONVERSATIONS  ON  OBJECTS. 

of  their  external  forms  and  characteristic  qualities ;  of  their  food, 
dispositions,  and  instincts,  in  accordance  with  their  organization ;  of 
the  tender  solicitude  they  display  for  their  young ;  and  of  the  ser- 
vices which  many  of  them  render  to  man.  Particular  mention  should 
be  made  of  those  which  supply  his  wants  or  administer  to  his  well- 
being,  during  their  lives,  with  their  strength,  swiftness,  and  sagacity, 
their  milk  and  honey,  their  wool  and  silk,  and,  after  their  death,  with 
their  flesh,  skin,  fur,  hair,  feathers,  bones,  horn,  ivory,  shell,  and  other 
useful  articles.  If  the  conversation  turn  upon  birds,  he  may  expa- 
tiate on  their  varieties,  plumage,  migratory  instincts,  nest-building, 
power  of  imitation  and  melody.  These  subjects  would  lead  incident- 
ally to  the  different  modes  of  fowling,  hunting,  and  fishing  in  vari- 
ous countries. 

Fishes  and  insects  should,  in  their  turn,  become  objects  of  inquiry ; 
their  diversified  conformation,  their  amazing  fecundity,  and  their  won- 
derful adaptation  both  to  the  elements  in  which  they  move  and  to 
their  modes  of  existence,  will  challenge  admiration.  The  multiplicity 
of  insects,  and,  especially  of  animalcula,  is  so  vast  as  to  baffle  the 
most  minute  investigation  :  every  plant,  every  leaf,  every  drop  of 
water,  is  the  abode  of  myriads  which  escape  the  naked  eye,  and  are 
visible  only  by  the  aid  of  the  microscope.  The  transformations 
which  some  instincts  undergo,  the  ingenuity  and  industry  which  others 
display  in  the  structure  of  their  habitations;  their  diverse  ways  of 
procuring  food,  their  instinctive  skill  in  selecting  places  of  safety  for 
the  deposition  of  their  eggs,  and  in  providing  for  the  future  wants  of 
the  young;  their  contrivances  to  guard  their  dwellings  from  the 
assaults  of  enemies,  their  modes  of  defense  when  attacked,  their  social 
habits — we  may  almost  say,  their  municipal  regulations  and  political 
constitutions — and  innumerable  other  instances  of  the  wise  arrange- 
ment of  a  bountiful  God,  in  providing  for  the  preservation  and  well- 
being  of  his  creatures,  may  be  opportunely  presented  to  children  by 
a  judicious  and  enlightened  instructor. 

It  is  when  the  young  are  filled  with  admiration  for  the  tender  care 
which  the  Creator  has  bestowed  on  his  creatures,  that  benevolent 
feelings  can  be  most  effectively  awakened  in  their  hearts ;  they  may 
be  impressed  with  the  idea  that  the  lower  animals,  having  sensations 
in  common  with  humanity,  cruelty  to  them  is  a  crime.  Pity  to  ani- 
mals begets  charity  to  men.  The  seasonable  narration  of  some 
remarkable  trait  of  the  instinct  of  animals,  of  some  anecdote  of  their 
attachment  or  sagacity,  would  interest  children,  call  for  their  sym- 
pathies, and,  at  the  same  time,  inspire  them  with  a  wish  to  inquire 
further  into  natural  history.  Many  celebrated  philosophers  and 


EXERCISES  IN  REFLECTION. 


245 


naturalists  have  acquired  their  taste  for  science  from  some  pleasur- 
able association  of  their  earliest  childhood.  Linnaeus  attributed  his 
love  for  the  study  of  plants  to  some  observations  on  a  flower  which 
his  father  made  to  him  when  he  was  about  four  years  of  age.  The 
biography  of  eminent  men  would  furnish  multitudes  of  incidents 
which  have  similarly  determined  in  them  corresponding  peculiarities 
of  character. 

7.  Natural  Philosophy,  Chemistry,  Physiology,  and  Mental  Philosophy. 

When  the  children's  attention  has  been,  for  some  time,  engaged  in 
acquiring  a  knowledge  of  the  external  forms  and  characters  of  ob- 
jects, the  description  of  which  constitutes  natural  history,  they  may 
be  made  acquainted  with  the  most  curious  and  most  important  among 
the  innumerable  phenomena  of  nature,  the  secret  causes  of  which  are 
unveiled  by  natural  philosophy.  They  may  be  led  to  consider  the 
effects  of  bodies  acting  on  each  other,  the  laws  of  gravitation,  motion, 
equilibrium,  and  the  various  mechanical  powers — the  lever,  the  pul- 
ley, the  wedge,  the  screw,  the  inclined  plane.  They  should  be  shown 
to  what  immense  advantage  to  civilized  man  are  these  mechanical 
appliances  and  others,  such  as  wind,  water,  steam,  and  the  electro- 
magnetic fluid.  The  governing  laws  of  mechanics  may  be  illustrated 
by  implements  of  domestic  use — the  poker,  scissors,  nut-crackers, 
steelyard,  will  exhibit  various  forms  of  levers  ;  the  very  playthings 
of  children — a  top,  a  hoop,  a  kite,  a  ball,  marbles,  soap-bubbles,  a 
sucker,  a  pop-gun,  will  exemplify  diverse  principles  of  science ;  no 
toy  is  despicable,  no  occupation  is  frivolous,  which  can  assist  in  the 
elucidation  of  truth. 

The  pressure,  levels,  motion,  elasticity,  weight,  and  other  prop- 
erties of  fluids,  as  well  as  the  specific  gravity  of  bodies,  may  be 
elicited  in  a  familiar  way,  by  the  scientific  results  which  bear  more 
immediately  on  the  occupations  of  life.  Swimming,  the  floating  of 
vessels,  canals,  water-mills,  the  water-press  and  water-clock,  forcing 
and  lifting  pumps,  the  fire-engine,  syphon,  diving-bell,  and  many 
other  philosophical  contrivances,  could  be  made  the  subjects  of  most 
interesting  conversations  in  illustration  of  the  properties  of  air  and 
water.  In  alluding  especially  to  the  air,  its  nature  and  use  in  the 
arts  may  be  further  explained,  and  rendered  sensible  by  means  of  the 
wind-mill,  barometer,  thermometer,  air-pump,  bellows,  balloons,  &c. 
Air  being  the  medium  of  sound,  its  investigations  would  naturally 
lead  to  the  consideration  of  acoustic  phenomena,  which  may  be  elu- 
cidated by  the  vibration  of  bells,  the  effects  of  echoes,  thunder,  gun- 
powder, whispering-galleries,  the  speaking-trumpet,  wind  and  string 
instruments,  musical -glasses,  &c. 


246  CONVERSATIONS  ON  OBJECTS. 

It  would  be  impossible  here  to  enumerate  the  various  familiar 
modes  by  which  may  be  illustrated  the  principles  of  mechanics,  hy- 
drodynamics, pneumatics,  electricity,  galvanism,  magnetism,  optics, 
and  astronomy.  Books  should  be  consulted  by  the  teacher,  both  as 
means  of  enriching  his  own  mind,  and  as  stores  from  which  he  may 
select  such  information  or  such  experiments  as  may  be  best  suited  to 
the  understandings  of  his  pupils ;  but  the  order  in  which  are  usually 
pursued  all  serious  studies  is,  by  no  means,  that  which  we  should 
adopt  in  communicating  the  facts,  or  teaching  the  language  of 
science  to  children.  His  chief  object  should  be,  by  indulging  their 
taste  for  variety  and  taking  advantage  of  circumstances,  to  inspire 
them  with  an  earnest  love  of  knowledge.  No  branch  of  instruction 
is  better  calculated  than  natural  philosophy  for  exciting  and  gratify- 
ing their  curiosity ;  and,  whatever  be  the  way  or  the  order  in  which 
they  acquire  the  elements  of  that  science,  if  they  are  once  conversant 
with  them,  every  thing  they  read  afterwards  will  find  its  place.  The 
particular  circumstances  of  time,  place,  fortune,  or  social  position,  in 
which  the  learners  are  placed,  will  best  suggest  to  a  well  informed 
instructor  the  department  of  the  science  and  the  modes  of  illustra- 
tion which  are  available  or  appropriate ;  but  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that,  with  diagrams  and  experiments,  such  as  may  be  found  in  many 
popular  works  on  the  subject,  the  elements  of  natural  philosophy 
may  be  brought  within  the  comprehension  of  children  under  the  age 
of  twelve. 

With  regard  to  chemistry,  the  instructor  may,  as  occasion  suggests, 
examine  with  his  pupils  the  affinity  between  various  substances,  their 
elements,  their  mutual  action,  and  all  attractions  and  repulsions 
which  form  its  basis.  He  should  particularly  communicate  to  them 
information  respecting  the  various  bodies  and  natural  elements  which 
are  constantly  exercising  their  influence  on  our  condition,  and  on  all 
.things  around  us,  as  air,  water,  steam,  gases,  light,  heat,  and  elec- 
tricity ;  he  should  explain  the  nature  of  bodies  in  their  three  states, 
solid,  fluid,  and  aeriform,  their  characteristic  properties,  the  laws  of 
composition  and  decomposition,  of  evaporation  and  condensation, 
of  combustion,  oxidation,  and  many  other  chemical  operations  of 
nature  or  art,  which  would  receive  additional  interest  from  experi- 
ments introduced  for  their  illustration,  or  from  instances  of  their  ap- 
plication to  the  arts  of  modern  civilization.  Dr.  David  B.  Reid  has 
shown  that  the  leading  principles  of  this  science  may  be  easily 
adapted  to  the  most  elementary  instruction,  and  rendered  accessible 
to  all  classes  of  society,  at  such  a  moderate  charge  as  will  not  pre- 
vent those  even  in  the  humbler  ranks  from  attending  to  them. 


EXERCISES  IN  REFLECTION.  247 

All  investigations  of  nature,  even  those  of  the  most  elementary 
kind,  will  be  found  of  eminent  service  in  developing  and  training  the 
mind  to  habits  of  observation,  inquiry  and  reflection.  They  draw 
attention  to  natural  theology,  and  are  highly  calculated  to  elevate 
the  soul  by  the  admiration  which  the  wonders  of  creation  can  not 
fail  to  excite,  at  the  same  time  that  they  provide  young  people  with 
an  inexhaustible  source  of  mental  enjoyment,  and  afford  them  posi- 
tive advantages  for  the  practical  purposes  of  life.  This  is  particu- 
larly the  case  with  chemistry,  the  application  of  which  is  so  universal 
and  so  immediately  connected  with  the  arts  and  all  the  wants  of  man. 
"  In  this  new  magic,"  says  Cuvier,  "  the  chemist  has  only  to  wish  : 
every  thing  can  be  changed  into  any  thing,  and  any  thing  can  be 
extracted  from  every  thing."  The  minds  of  young  persons  will  be 
opened  to  a  train  of  thinking,  which,  in  some,  may  lead  to  most  im- 
portant results,  if  they  are  occasionally  shown  by  experiments  that 
the  infinite  varieties  of  the  material  world  are  only  different  com- 
pounds of  a  few  elements. 

The  thoughts  of  children  may  also  be  directed  to  their  bodily 
frames,  which  present  all  the  considerations  of  color,  form,  dimen- 
sion, properties,  uses,  &c.,  belonging  to  matter.  The  teacher  may 
explain  the  functions  of  the  sensitive,  the  vocal,  and  the  muscular 
organs,  the  utility  of  which  can  be  made  obvious  to  the  youngest 
child ;  he  may,  as  an  example  of  that  admirable  adaptation  to  each 
other  of  all  the  parts  of  the  animal  economy  in  man,  show  them  how 
beautiful  is  the  mechanism  of  the  hand,  how  wonderfully  calculated 
it  is  to  execute  the  commands  of  the  human  mind.  They  will  thus 
be  impressed  with  the  consciousness  of  the  infinite  wisdom  of  Him 
who,  in  making  man  superior  to  all  other  animals  by  his  intellectual 
powers,  has  given  him  the  instrument  with  which  he  can  exercise  his 
sovereignty  over  the  creation. 

From  a  consideration  of  the  external  organs  he  may  pass  to  that 
of  the  internal ;  he  may  examine  with  his  pupils  the  functions  of  the 
stomach,  the  lungs,  the  heart,  and  the  brain ;  the  structure  of  the 
bones;  the  manner  in  which  the  different  joints,  muscles,  nerves,  and 
vessels  perform  their  office ;  their  mutual  subserviency  and  happy 
adaptation  to  the  preservation,  strength,  motion  of  the  body,  in  fact  to 
the  whole  constitution  of  man.  Few  subjects  are  more  easily  taught 
orally  than  physiology  and  anatomy.  The  presence  of  the  living 
body  precludes,  to  a  great  extent,  the  necessity  of  written  descrip- 
tions, of  preparations,  models,  or  skeletons.  With  instruction  on 
this  subject  should  be  combined  explanations  of  the  great  hygienic 
principles,  the  observance  of  which  is  indispensable.  Young  persons 


248  CONVERSATIONS  ON  OBJECTS. 

should  be  made  acquainted  with  the  constitution  of  the  atmosphere,, 
and  with  the  relation  of  its  elements  to  the  functions  of  respiration, 
and  to  the  composition  of  the  blood  :  they  should  be  shown  the  in- 
fluence of  exercise  on  the  muscles  and  bones,  on  digestion  and  circu- 
lation. The}7  will  be  less  tempted  to  violate  the  physical  laws  of 
their  nature,  when  they  are  aware  of  the  consequences  of  the  viola- 
tion. They  will  better  guard  against  accident  or  disease,  when  they 
know  in  what  manner  the  human  constitution  is  influenced  by  air, 
food,  exercise,  and  moral  causes.  Every  parent  is  bound  to  give  to- 
his  children  that  information  on  which  their  future  existence  and 
well-being  so  greatly  depend.  A  knowledge  of  physiology  more 
universally  diffused  would  be  a  check  on  medical  quackery. 

The  close  dependence  and  analogy  which  exist  between  the  func- 
tions of  the  physical  and  those  of  the  mental  faculties,  will  render 
inquiries  about  the  latter  both  easy  and  interesting.  There  is  noth- 
ing, for  example,  in  our  introductory  Book  which  may  not  be  made 
as  plain  to  children  twelve  or  thirteen  years  old,  as  any  other  subject 
of  inquiry  to  which  we  have  adverted.  The  study  of  the  mind  as 
well  as  that  of  the  body,  is  founded  on  familiar  facts  placed  within 
his  powers  of  observation  and  discrimination.  He  can  early  be 
made  to  consider  the  different  states  and  actions  of  his  own  mind, 
and  to  discriminate  between  attention  and  reflection,  memory  and 
imagination,  judgment  and  reasoning.  He  may  be  made  to  observe 
what  passes  within  himself  when  he  receives  perceptions,  when  he 
associates  ideas,  when  he  compares  and  draws  conclusions,  when  he 
has  desires  and  contracts  habits.  He  can  be  shown  when  he  applies 
properly  or  otherwise  his  moral  and  intellectual  faculties.  He  will 
thus  acquire  a  knowledge  of  himself  and  a  habit  of  self-examination, 
which  will  teach  him  how  to  use  his  faculties  to  the  greatest  advant- 
age ;  at  the  same  time  that  it  will  make  him  feel  his  dignity  as  an 
intellectual  being  and  as  a  creature  destined  to  immortality.  "  But," 
says  Alison,  "  the  great  advantage  which  he  will  derive  from  in- 
quiry into  the  laws  of  his  own  mind,  is  much  less  in  the  addition 
which  it  gives  to  his  own  power  or  wisdom,  than  in  the  evidence 
which  it  affords  him  of  the  wisdom  with  which  his  constitution  is 
framed,  and  the  magnificent  purposes  for  which  it  is  framed." 


ASSISTANTS  AND  DISCIPLES  OF  PESTALOZZI. 


PESTALOZZI'S  power,  as  a  doer  of  good,  was  based  upon  his  untirin^ 
energy  and  his  impregnable  benevolence  and  faith  in  human  nature. 
His  intellectual  endowments,  in  the  endeavor  to  develop  into  a  complete 
sj'stem  the  principles  which  he  felt  so  strongly,  failed  him,  and  he  con- 
tinually became  obscure  and  contradictory.  His  method  of  instruction 
was  as  spontaneously  and  unpremeditatedly  the  result  of  instinct,  as  the 
benevolence  which  inspired  him ;  but  he  was  unable  to  state  its  princi- 
ples philosophically,  or  to  develop  his  methodology  logically. 

Thus  he  was  obliged  to  rely,  to  a  degree  unusual  for  the  leader  of  a 
great  reform,  upon  assistants,  even  for  the  statement  of  his  views,  and 
the  details  of  his  modes  of  operation  ;  and,  accordingly,  an  account  of 
himself,  and  of  his  labors,  must,  in  order  to  be  complete,  contain  an  ap- 
parently excessive  proportion  of  narrative  relating  to  them. 

In  finding  such  assistants,  Pestalozzi  was  remarkably  fortunate.  Nie- 
derer,  Schmid,  Kriisi,  Buss,  Tobler,  and  many  more  of  the  numerous 
teachers  at  Burgdorf  and  Yverdun,  were  all  men  of  remarkable  capacity, 
either  for  some  one  department  of  investigation  and  instruction,  or  for 
good  qualities  of  mind  and  heart,  which  endeared  them  to  Pestalozzi, 
each  other,  and  the  pupils  ;  often  for  both.  And  still  more  remarkable 
than  such  endowments  is  the  eminent  and  persevering  self-denial  with 
which  some  of  them — as  Niederer — giving  up  positions  of  comfort  and 
influence,  already  secured,  entered  the  ill-managed  and  disorderly  in- 
stitution, and  remained  there,  year  after  year,  sometimes  with  small 
salaries  and  sometimes  with  none,  and  not  even  always  finding  abund- 
ance of  ordinary  food,  through  evil  report  and  good  report,  until  abso- 
lutely convinced  that  their  usefulness  in  it  was  ended.  Nor  was  this  all. 
With  the  single  exception  of  Schmid,  Pestalozzi's  teachers  resigned  to 
him  whatever  of  fame  and  profit  might  have  come  from  the  manuals  they 
compiled  in  their  respective  studies,  and  the  books  were  published  either 
as  by  Pestalozzi  himself,  or  as  the  productions  of  the  institution.  Ac- 
counts of  these  assistants  will  be  found  in  the  following  pages ;  some  of 
them  reasonably  complete,  but  some,  owing  to  the  scarcity  of  accessible 
materials,  somewhat  scanty. 

The  present  work  also  contains  short  biographies  of  some  of  the  more 
prominent  of  those  who  were  instrumental  in  propagating  Pestalozzi's 
views  and  methods  in  Germany.  The  introduction  of  his  system  into 
Germany  constitutes  the  most  remarkable  chapter  in  the  history  of 
modern  education. 

Of  this  chapter,  a  portion,  complete  within  itself,  and  both  interesting 


250  PREFACE. 

and  important,  consists  of  the  introduction  of  Pestalozzianism  into  the 
\ingdom  of  Prussia. 

During  the  subjugation  of  Germany  under  Napoleon,  the  minds  of  the 
best  and  ablest  of  the  Prussian  statesmen  and  philosophers  were  most 
eagerly  occupied  in  inventing  means  which,  if  not  available  for  an  imme- 
diate struggle  for  independence,  should  at  once  begin  the  work  of  raising 
the  moral,  mental,  and  physical  character  of  the  nation  to  a  standard  of 
elevated  development,  which  might  insure  such  a  struggle  in  future,  and 
its  success. 

Among  the  instrumentalities  used  for  this  purpose,  which,  together, 
amounted  almost  to  an  entire  reorganization  of  the  kingdom,  the  improve- 
ment in  education,  resulting  from  the  introduction  of  the  Pestalozzian  sys- 
tem— and  still  more  of  the  spirit  of  that  system— occupied  a  prominent 
place.  To  the  King  and  Queen,  to  the  ministry  of  education,  to  Fichte, 
in  short,  to  the  most  influential  public  men  of  that  day,  Pestalozzi's  views 
sec-mod  to  promise  the  happiest  results ;  and,  with  a  rare  liberality  and 
decision,  measures  were  at  once  taken  to  prove  them  experimentally  and 
thoroughly. 

Tln-se  measures  were  two:  the  employment  of  an  able  Pestalozzian  in 
founding  or  reforming  institutions  already  existing,  and  the  sending  to 
Yverdun  young  men  of  promise,  to  draw  their  inspiration,  as  teachers, 
from  the  fountain-head  of  the  new  method. 

Carl  August  Zeller  was  chosen  to  perform  the  former  task,  and  was,  in 
the  year  1809,  invited  from  Wirtemberg,  where  he  had  been  laboring 
zealously  among  the  teachers  to  introduce  the  new  method,  to  Konigs- 
berg,  in  East  Prussia,  on  terms  honorable  to  the  government  and  to  him- 
self. He  was  received  with  enthusiasm,  and  set  himself  earnestly  to 
work,  lecturing,  instructing,  reorganizing,  with  untiring  zeal,  industry, 
and  efficiency.  Notwithstanding  a  few  errors  of  judgment,  his  labors 
gave  a  great  and  lasting  impulse  to  education  in  that  portion  of  Prussia ; 
and  one  at  least  of  the  institutions  he  founded,  at  Karalene  (i.  e.,  Livo- 
nian  for  "  Queen,")  in  the  government  of  Gumbinnen,  is  yet  useful  as  an 
orphan-house  and  teachers'  seminary. 

The  second  measure  taken  by  government  was  the  sending  of  young 
men  to  be  educated  as  teachers  in  the  Pestalozzian  principles.  Those  se- 
lected were  mostly  chosen  from  among  the  most  promising  of  the  theo- 
logical students.  Two,  Marias  Schmid  and  Dr.  Harnisch,*  were  sent  to 
Plamann's  institution,  at  Berlin ;  the  remaining  ones,  Henning,  Dreist, 
Kawerau,  Kratz,  Rendschmidt,  Preuss,  Patzig,  Braun,  Steger,  Marsch, 
•Ksionzek,  the  brothers  Bernhard,  and  four  already  teachers  by  profes- 
sion, Hanel,  Titze,  Runge,  and  Baltrusch,  were  sent  to  Yverdun  at  various 
times  during  a  series  of  years,  their  expenses  being  paid  by  government. 
Upon  their  return,  they  were  employed  in  various  institutions  for  the 
training  of  teachers,  most  of  them  with  success.  Thus  a  large  body  of 

*Wilhelm  Harnisch,  the  well-known  educator,  from  whose  •«  Present  Condition  oft 
Prussian  Common  School  System."  (.Leipzig.  1°44.)  much  of  the  information  in  *his  article  is 
lerived. 


PREFACE.   •  251 

competent  instructors  in  the  new  method  was,  in  a  comparatively  short 
time,  >rattered  among  the  Prussian  schools;  the  spirit  of  the  Pestalozzian 
method  satisfied  the  needs  of  the  age;  and,  with  the  powerful  twofold 
aid  of  popular  favor  and  the  earnest  influence  of  the  whole  power  of  the 
government,  it  speedily  took  possession  of  the  entire  common  school  sys- 
tem. Every  where,  the  authorities  co-operated  zealously  with  the  teach- 
ers under  the  new  methods.  Queen  Louise,  and  under  her  influence  the 
King,  took  so  deep  an  interest  in  the  reform,  that  they  often  visited  the 
schools  where  it  was  introduced.  The  Queen,  especially,  often  remained 
in  them  for  hours ;  caused  reports  to  be  made  to  her  on  the  progress  of 
the  schools  generally ;  and  was  judicious  and  liberal  in  encouraging  and 
rewarding  instructors  and  educators. 

While  these  measures  effectually  inaugurated  the  new  system,  a  share 
of  the  credit  of  it  is  due  to  those  teachers  and  school  officers  who, 
though  not  themselves  trained  under  Pestalozzi,  and  not  always  accept- 
ing his  methods  of  instruction,  in  every  particular,  yet  entered  fully  into 
his  spirit,  and  labored  in  union  with  his  more  immediate  disciples,  with 
a  zeal  and  efficiency,  perhaps,  rather  increased  than  decreased  by  the 
free  development  of  the  individualities  of  their  various  views.  Indeed, 
one  of  the  most  valuable  features  of  what  may  be  called  the  Prussian- 
Pestalozzian  system,  was  its  deliberate  and  careful  but  free  advance  to- 
ward such  improvements  upon  the  system  of  Pestalozzi  himself;  a  pro- 
ceeding which  has  secured  the  highest  excellence  of  the  original  system, 
has  added  to  it  much  that  is  valuable,  has  insured  that  vivid  and  inter- 
ested activity  in  the  teachers  which  is  the  first  requisite  of  successful  in- 
struction, and  has  prevented  the  decay  and  deadness  into  which  servile 
followers  of  exclusive  rules  must  necessarily  fall. 

The  praises  thus  bestowed  upon  the  Prussian  common  schools,  as  thus 
reformed,  reflect  no  blame  upon  those  teachers  and  conductors  who  neg- 
lected, or  even  opposed,  the  new  methods.  The  principal  among  these 
were  followers  of  Basedow  and  the  Philanthropists ;  institutions  of  this 
class  were  the  Schnepfenthal  Institution,  and  the  Hartung  School,  and 
the  Real  School,  at  Berlin  ;  and  among  the  men  were  Nolte,  Zerrenner, 
and  Dinter.* 

The  introduction  of  the  Pestalozzian  system  into  the  schools  of  Prus- 
sia, may  be  said  to  have  been  in  progress  from  1812  to  1825 ;  at  the  end 
of  which  time  it  had,  substantially,  possession  of  the  whole  common 
school  system.  Dr.  Harnisch  enumerates,  as  among  the  chief  advant- 
ages resulting  from  it,  1.  Patriotic  feeling,  causing  more  thorough  study 
of  the  German  language,  home  geography,  &c. ;  2.  Giving  a  high  value 
and  place  to  vocal  music,  as  a  study ;  3.  The  same  of  drawing,  espe- 
cially under  the  teachings  of  Peter  Schmid ;  4.  Introduction  of  thor- 
ough musical  instruction ;  5.  Introduction,  or  readoption  of  thorough 
system  of  bodily  training. 

*  However  strongly  Dinter  may  have  professed  to  hold  on  to  tli^  <>!rl  ways,  no  avowed  Pes- 
alozzian  ever  labored  more  devotedly  in  the  spirit,  i  H|  \v  t!i  the  aims  and  methods  of  Pes- 
tlozzi,  as  our  readers  will  see  in  the  memoir,  p  2N 


252  .  PREFACE. 

From  Prussia  the  principles  and  practice  of  the  school  of  Pestalozzt< 
were  widely  diffused  in  other  countries,  through  travelers,  often  coming 
exclusively  for  the  purpose  of  investigating  the  Prussian  system,  and 
sometimes  sent  by  foreign  governments  for  the  purpose.  Dr.  Harnisch 
gives  a  long  list  of  names  of  visitors  to  a  single  seminary  only,  mostly 
of  persons  eminent  in  education,  among  which  are  mentioned  those  of 
Hon.  Horace  Mann,  and  Profs.  Stowe  and  Bache,  from  the  United  States. 

The  present  occasion  does  not  admit  of  any  extended  reference  to  the 
further  spread  of  Pestalozzianism.  We  can  only  say  that  prominent 
among  those  who  transferred  the  system  into  France,  was  Victor  Cousin, 
whose  able  report  is  well  known ;  and  Chevalier  Jullien,  who,  at  an  ear- 
lier date,  drew  up  an  extended  report  upon  the  school  of  Yverdun,  and 
the  educational  principles  and  methods  of  Pestalozzi.  The  labors  of  Dr. 
Biber,  Mr.  Greaves,  and  at  a  later  date  of  Dr.  Mayo  and  Miss  Mayo,  and 
of  Sir  James  Kay  Shuttleworth,  M.  Tilleard,  and  Mr.  Tait,  have  done  much 
to  spread  the  system  in  England.  And  among  its  advocates  and  propa- 
gators in  America  were  William  Russell,  editor  of  the  "American 
Journal  of  Education  ;"  Warren  Colburn,  whose  celebrated  arithmetics 
are  strictly  Pestalozzian  ;  A.  Bronson  Alcott ;  W.  C.  Woodbridge,  tho 
geographer  and  editor  of  the  "Annals;"  and  Lowell  Mason,  the  veteran 
and  efficient  instructor  in  vocal  music. 


FRIEDERICH  FROBEL  UPON  PESTALOZZI, 

LETTER   TO  THE  PRINCESS-REGENT   OF   SCHWARZBURG-RUDOLSTADT, 
April  27,  1809. 


MAN  AS  THE  SUBJECT  OF  EDUCATION. 

PESTALOZZI'S  principles  of  education  and  instruction  and  his  pro- 
ceedings, growing  out  of  them,  and  the  means  for  their  application  are 
founded  entirely  upon  the  phenomena  of  his  existence  as  a  created 
being. 

Man  as  he  is  represented  to  us  is  a  union  of  three  chief  attributes ; 
body,  soul,  mind ;  to  cultivate  these  harmoniously  and  as  a  whole  is  his 
object.  Pestalozzi  goes  from  this  existence  of  man  into  the  phenomena, 
that  is,  from  that  which  he  is  by.  the  sum  of  his  powers  and  according 
to  his  destiny  (its  suitable  culture).  Hence  he  takes  man  into  consid- 
eration according  to  this  sum  of  his  powers  as  a  bodily,  intellectual  and 
emotional  being,  and  works  upon  him  in  this  sum  of  his  powers  and  for 
their  harmonious  development  and  culture,  from  which  first  arises 
that  whole  which  is  called  man. 

Pestalozzi,  therefore,  works  not  merely  upon  the  bodily  powers  and 
their  development,  not  only  upon  the  culture  of  the  mind  and  its  devel- 
opment, nor  only  upon  the  soul  and  its  development  (although  he  is 
accused  of  doing  so),  nor  merely  upon  two  of  these  at  once,  as  body  and 
mind,  or  body  and  soul,  or  soul  and  mind.  No !  Pestalozzi  develops 
man,  works  upon  man  in  the  totality  of  his  powers. 

Man  in  his  manifestations  must  run  through  three  principal  epochs, 
according  to  his  powers  ;  that  of  the  body,  that  of  the  soul,  that  of  the 
mind ;  he  runs  through  them  not  separated,  or  singly,  so  that  he  first 
runs  through  that  of  the  body,  then  that  of  the  soul,  and  at  last  that  of 
the  mind ;  no,  these  epochs  are  convertible  in  the  man  developed  in  per- 
fectly undisturbed  natural  relations ;  their  circular  course  returns  ever 
again,  and  the  more  so  the  more  perfect  the  man  becomes — until  the 
limits  of  his  powers  as  well  as  of  their  development  fall  away  and  are 
removed,  and  the  continuous  whole — man — stands  before  us. 

It  would  be  highly  unjust,  therefore,  to  say  of  Pestalozzi  that  be  de- 
veloped men,  the  powers  of  men,  each  power  separately  at  three  differ- 
•ent  epochs,  first  the  body,  then  the  soul,  and  then  the  mind,  since  he 
really  takes  them  all  into  view  at  once  in  harmonious  and  brotherly 
union,  and  although  he  seems,  perhaps,  for  the  time  to  be  treating 
merely  the  physical  powers,  he  is  observing  and  taking  into  considera- 
tion equally  the  influence  of  this  treatment  upon  mind  and  soul. 

He  has  man  as  a  whole  in  his  eye,  as  an  unseparated  and  inseparable 
whole,  and  in  all  that  he  does  and  wishes  to  do  for  him  and  his  culti- 
vation, he  does  it  for  him  as  a  whole.  At  no  time  does  he  act  only  for 
4 


254  FllCi-ILSEL  ON  PESTALOZZI. 

the  development  of  one  power,  leaving  the  others  without  nourishment  ^ 
for  example,  he  never  is  acting  for  the  mind  alone  and  leaving  uncon- 
sidered,  unsatisfied  and  uncared  for  and  in  inaction  the  body  and  the 
soul ;  all  the  powers  are  cared  for  at  all  times. 

But  often  one  or  other  of  the  three  great  divisions  of  man's  nature 
stands  forth  and  apparently  dominates  the  others. 

Pestalozzi  takes  into  view  man  according  to  and  in  his  manifestation, 
according  to  the  laws  of  nature  and  those  which  are  grounded  in  the 
mind  of  man,  when  he  works  specially  upon  the  predominant  power ; 
it  is  not  done  in  an  isolated  and  divided  way,  but  in  order  to  work 
through  his  treatment  upon  the  other  equal  but  slumbering  and  resting 
powers.  So,  for  example,  in  one  and  the  same  epoch  upon  the  senses,, 
through  these  upon  the  body,  and  through  these  again  upon  the  feel- 
ings, and  so  in  a  perpetual  round. 

Pestalozzi  takes  man  according  to  his  manifestation.  But  man  does 
not  manifest  himself  alone,  for  and  through  himself;  he  manifests 
himself  under  conditions  determined  by  nature  and  by  his  mother,  and 
both  these  united — that  is,  by  love. 

So  the  man  becomes  child,  that  is,  the  sum  and  substance  of  the  love 
of  the  father  and  mother. 

Pestalozzi  then  wishes  to  develop  and  cultivate  the  man  in  his  mani- 
festation as  child,  through  the  conditions  under  which  he  appears,  that 
is,  the  love  of  the  father  and  mother.  We  think  of  the  father  and 
mother  as  united  by  love  in  order  to  exalt  the  child,  i.  e.,  the  sum  of 
their  love,  into  an  independent  being  by  means  of  education. 

Can  there  be  a  truer,  more  careful  nurse  and  developer  of  this  love 
made  visible,  this  independent  essence,  this  child,  than  the  father  and 
the  mother,  than  the  two  united  by  mutual  love,  to  which  the  child 
owes  his  existence — indeed,  whose  sum  and  substance  the  child  is  ? 

Pestalozzi  thus  wishes  only  what  nature  and  the  being  of  man 
wishes ;  he  wishes  that  man  in  his  manifestation  as  child  shall  be  de- 
veloped by  his  father  and  mother,  and  in  their  mutual  love  be  culti- 
vated throughout  and  educated  according  to  his  capacities  as  a  corporeal, 
feeling  and  intellectual  being. 

MAN   IN   HIS   MANIFESTATION   AS    A    CHILD. 

The  existence  of  mind  and  soul  in  the  child  is  expressed  merely  by 
simple  life. 

Mind  and  soul  appear  limited  by  and  in  the  mass,  the  body — for 
still  all  parts  in  the  body  are  one ;  the  mind  and  the  senses  by  which 
the  world  without  works  through  the  body  upon  the  mind  and  soul  are 
not  yet  distinguishable. 

The  body  of  the  child  is  still  a  mass ;  it  appears  so  tender  and  frail, 
so  much  too  material  and  awkward  for  the  mind  and  the  soul  of  the 
child,  yet  slumbering  and  weak,  to  work  through  it. 

By  degrees  the  senses,  feeling,  sight,  etc.,  develop  and  separate. 


FROEBEL  ON  PESTALOZZi.  255. 

The  child  feels  the  warmth  of  the  mother's  breast  and  the  breath  of 
her  loving  lips  ;  it  smiles  (the  first  appearance  of  the  soul,  the  first  sign 
of  the  soul's  existence). 

The  child  perceives  the  mother ;'  it  feels  her  nearness,  her  distance, 
etc. ;  the  child  louks  (the  first  appearance  of  mind — the  first  sign  of  its 
existence). 

At  the  moment  of  the  beginning  of  this  separation  of  the  senses,  the- 
true  mother  works  upon  the  unfolding  and  development  of  the  child 
according  to  its  various  capacities  ;  the  love  of  the  mother  makes  the 
child  feel,  see,  hear. 

Thus  are  developed,  without  giving  any  account  of  themselves — 
yielding  only  to  holy  feeling,  to  the  demands  of  their  nature — the 
senses  of  the  child,  which  are  the  paths  to  its  mind  and  soul. 

Here  is  the  third  point,  where  Pestalozzi  takes  into  account  the  par- 
ents— where  he  appeals  to  them  with  the  view  of  exalting  the  being  of 
their  love  to  the  higher  life,  to  conscious  independence — where  he  gives- 
them  means  and  guidance  to  develop  and  cultivate  the  capacities  of 
their  child. 

What  Pestalozzi  wishes  as  means  of  development  he  had  pointed  out 
in  his  Book  for  Mothers,  which  many  have  misunderstood  and  which 
is  yet  the  highest  which  can  be  given  to  man,  the  most  loving  feeling 
could  create,  the  highest  and  best  gift  which  he  could  bestow  in  the 
present  circumstances  upon  his  brethren  and  sisters. 

What  Pestalozzi  expresses  in  that  book  are  only  suggestions  of  what 
lies  in  his  soul,  as  a  great,  glorious,  living  and  unspeakable  whole. 

His  soul  felt  the  joys  of  heaven  in  his  intuition  of  the  perception  of 
the  father  and  mother  following  the  call  of  nature  by  the  education  of 
their  children.  Overpowered  by  this  heavenly  joy,  he  sat  down  and 
wrote,  not  for  word-catchers  and  quibblers — no  !  he  wrote  for  parents, 
for  fathers,  for  mothers,  who  he  thought  would  conceive  and  feel  as  he 
did,  to  whom  he  only  needed  to  point  out  what  they  should  do,  what 
they  could  do,  and  how  they  could  do  it. 

The  highest  object  of  recognition,  of  the  intuition  of  mind  and  soul 
to  man,  is  humanity. 

Pestalozzi  took  pleasure,  in  his  Book  for  Mothers,  in  pointing  out  to 
man  what  he  wished ;  and,  in  order  to  point  out  all  that  he  wished, 
could  he  choose  anything  higher  and  more  perfect  than  man,  whose 
body  is  destined  for  the  earth  and  whose  being  is  destined  for  heaven  ? 
That  he  chose  the  highest,  the  most  perfect  thing,  is  now  made  a  re- 
proach to  him ! 

But  is  there  a  more  glorious,  more  exalted,  more  beautiful,  more 
worthy  object  of  observation  and  recognition  than  man  ? — and  is  not 
the  body  the  house  of  our  spirit,  which  is  destined  for  eternity  and  for 
communion  with  God?  Can  it,  as  he  himself  says,  be  contrary  to  nat- 
ure to  learn  to  know  it  early,  to  respect  it  early,  to  rejoice  in  it  early, 
that  it  may  be  made  holy  for  us  ?  Can  it,  as  they  charge  Pestalozzi, 


256  FROE13EL  ON  1'ESTALOZZl. 


be  contrary  to  nature  to  orient  one's  self  early  in  the  house  where 
one  dwells  ? 

As  I  stand  before  you,  it  cannot  be  my  aim  to  contradict  the  objec- 
tions of  Pestalozzi's  opposers,  who  for  the  most  part  misunderstand 
him,  since  I  am  merely  striving  to  represent  literally  the  essence  of 
Pestalozzi's  fundamental  efforts  according  to  his  own  representation ; 
I  merely  say  that  a  great  part  of  the  objections  made  to  these  efforts 
consists  in  this;  that  Pestalozzi,  for  various  reasons,  errs  very  much 
when  he  enlists  the  child  himself  in  the  first  cognition  and  develop- 
ment of  himself  and  the  man,  and  even  starts  from  the  body  of  the 
child. 

But  how  can  it  be  a  crime;  how  can  it  be  against  nature  to  re- 
spect the  body  early,  to  learn  early  to  know  the  body  and  its  use,  the 
use  to  which  we  all  owe  everything,  by  which  alone  we  learn  to  know 
the  world  without,  which  helps  us  to  sustain  and  battle  for  our  life,  as 
it  helps  us  to  recognize  God,  to  do  good,  and  to  rescue  our  brothers  and 
sisters  with  strong  arms  from  the  brink  of  perdition? 

'  Truly,  whoever  wishes  to  teach  the  child  to  respect  his  body  must 
respect  himself ;  if  he  wishes  to  learn  to  know  it,  he  must  know  him- 
self ;  whoever  wishes  to  instruct  in  the  use  of  it,  must  know  it  himself, 
all  this  must  come  to  his  consciousness ;  whoever  works  to  make  the 
child  feel  the  sacredness  of  his  body,  to  himself  it  must  be  sacred ! 

Indeed,  no  man  could  understand  Pestalozzi  who  had  not  in  his  soul, 
when  this  elementary  book  first  fell  into  his  hands,  that  which  Pesta- 
lozzi felt  to  be  exalted  in  humanity  ;  to  him  those  principles  were  dead 
forms  without  sense  or  significance,  and  afterwards  one  person,  perhaps 
without  examination,  repeated  the  judgment  of  another  who  seemed  to 
•him  well-informed. 

But  were  all  these  men  parents  to  whom  Pestalozzi  spoke  ?  Noble 
Princess,  if  I  were  not  afraid  of  wearying  you,  I  could  say  much  upon 
the  excellence  and  the  principles  of  Pestalozzi,  of  the  man  himself ;  I 
only  permit  myself  to  express  one  thing  of  which  I  am  deeply  per- 
suaded in  my  own  mind. 

Many  a  young  man  and  boy,  powerful  by  the  nature  of  their  collec- 
tive capacities,  would  not  have  lost  his  powers  in  the  bloom  of  his  youth, 
if  his  parents  or  teachers  had  followed  in  his  education  the  principles 
laid  down  by  Pestalozzi  in  his  Book  for  Mothers. 

Many  a  young  man  would  have  known  how  to  be  a  useful  and  esti- 
mable subject,  in  the  years  of  his  ripeness  and  understanding,  if  his 
body  could  have  fulfilled  the  requisitions  of  his  mind  and  heart. 

Pestalozzi's  Book  for  Mothers  is  only  a  suggestion  of  what  he  wishes 
to  do  ;  he  wrote  significantly  ;  "  or  a  guide  for  mothers  in  the  observa- 
tion of  their  children,  and  to  teach  them  to  speak." 

But  man  is  not  the  only  thing  upon  earth  ;  the  whole  outward  world 
is  the  object  of  his  recognition,  and  the  means  for  his  development  and 
culture. 


FROEBEL  ON  PESTALOZZI.  257 

Pestalozzi  said,  therefore,  and  still  says  :  "  As  I  have  shown  you  that 
you  can  bring  man  by  degrees  through  gradual  development  of  the 
child  to  the  conscious  inspection  and  recognition  of  tlie  world  without, 
so  bring  every  other  object  of  the  world  without  to  his  inspection  and 
recognition,  every  object  which  approaches  the  child,  which  lies  in  his 
circle,  in  his  world,  as  he  himself  lies  in  this  world ! " 

Scarcely  does  it  seem  possible  that  herein  can  lie  anything  contrary 
to  nature,  difficult  to  be  recognized,  or  difficult  to  be  carried  out,  and 
yet  the  opponents  of  Pestalozzi  find  more  than  all  this  in  it.  Pestalozzi's 
opponents  reproach  him  strongly  that  he  merely  speaks  of  this  obser- 
vation and  recognition. 

But  we  observe  with  all  our  senses,  and  how  could  Pestalozzi  believe 
that  any  one  would  accuse  him,  when  he  used  the  word  observation,  of 
meaning  simple  observation  with  the  eyes  ? 

The  Book  for  Mothers  is  to  teach  the  mother,  in  the  first  place,  to 
develop  and  to  cultivate  the  senses  of  the  child  both  singly  and  in  their 
harmonious  united  working.  In  the  second  place,  it  is  to  show  how  and 
in  what  natural  series  of  steps,  one  may  bring  the  objects  of  the  world 
in  which  he  lives  to  the  observation  and  recognition  of  the  child.  In  the 
third  place,  it  is  to  put  the  mothers  and  the  teachers  in  a  condition  to 
teach  the  child  the  use  and  destination  of  his  powers  and  capacities, 
as  well  as  the  use  and  design  of  the  objects  of  the  world  without ;  and 
to  bring  them  to  his  consciousness. 

And  in  all  this  they  accuse  Pestalozzi  of  expressing  one-sided  princi- 
ples and  methods  of  instruction,  although  it  is  surely  impossible  to 
fulfill  the  conditions  he  requires  without  developing  and  cultivating 
man  in  all  the  directions  of  his  great  powers. 

Others  came  forward  and  said,  Pestalozzi  would  have  dead  words  and 
repetitions ;  what  he  gives  is  dead  and  therefore  killing.  Still  others 
came  forward  and  said  what  Pestalozzi  wishes  the  child  to  know 
should  be  taught  him  earlier  and  better ;  they  point  to  the  number  of 
children's  books  that  have  appeared  for  every  age,  and  for  children  of 
all  conditions ;  to  the  books  that  have  been  written  on  natural  history, 
on  excursions,  journeys,  stories  and  picture  books  of  all  kinds,  etc. 

By  all  these  means  that  has  not  been  done  which  Pestalozzi  wishes 
to  have  done.  Everything  is  given  to  the  child  prepared  and  related, 
so  that  his  understanding  has  no  work  to  do. 

The  powers  of  the  child's  mind  are  not  rendered  active  and  self- 
forking.  The  understanding  of  the  adult  has  already  prepared  every- 
thing so  that  the  activity  of  the  child's  understanding  and  recognition 
are  left  without  employment.  The  consequence  of  this  is  weakness 
•of  mind  and  especially  of  the  self-acting  judgment  of  the  child,  and  his 
•egress  out  of  his  own  inner  world  instead  of  making  him  at  home  in  it 
and  acquainted  with  it. 

They  have  also  reproached  Pestalozzi  for  the  form  of  his  Book  for 
Mothers.  But  when  he  wrote,  it  was  not  his  opinion  that  the  father, 


25S  FltOEBEL  ON  PESTALOZZ1. 

mother,  teacher,  whose  hand-book  he  designed  it  to  be,  would  neces- 
sarily confine  himself  strictly  and  anxiously  to  his  representations.  He 
strove  only  to  represent  what  was  essential  in  general,  so  far  as  this  was 
possible  for  him  to  do  so,  and  to  touch  upon  all  parts  of  the  whole. 

Some  complained  in  regard  to  the  book  that  the  sequence  was  not 
logical  enough  ;  but  Pestalozzi  wished  neither  to  establish  a  strong  logi- 
cal sequence,  nor,  still  less,  to  confine  the  use  and  application  of  it. 

What  Pestalozzi  had  really  contemplated  was  in  the  opinion  of  others 
too  precise  and  stiff. 

Although  it  was  hardly  possible  that  Pestalozzi  should  not  begin  his 
list  of  the  parts  of  the  human  body  with  the  head,  he  did  not  say  that 
if  other  parts,  the  hand  for  example,  should  attract  the  attention  of  the 
child,  it  should  be  withdrawn  from  that  and  directed  to  the  head 
because  that  happened  to  stand  first  in  the  book.  Pestalozzi  says 
expressly,  the  peculiar  Book  for  Mothers  is  the  nature  of  the  child  in  its 
manifestations. 

I  know  a  mother  who  has  treated  her  child  now  two  and  a  quarter 
years  old  in  the  spirit  of  Pestalozzi,  and  according  to  his  meaning.  It 
is  delightful  and  exalting  to  the  heart  to  see  that  mother  and  child. 

And  surely  the  object  of  that  mother's  activity,  the  inner  life  of  her 
soul,  could  not  permit  her  through  her  love  for  her  child,  indeed,  would 
make  it  impossible  for  her,  to  follow  to  the  letter  the  directions  in 
Pestalozzi's  book  ;  yet  this  mother  did  not  find  his  writings  contrary  to 
nature,  nor  killing  to  the  mind  of  her  child ;  no !  It  was  what  Pesta- 
lozzi wished  that  she  comprehended  in  her  inmost  soul.  It  is  a  joy  to 
see  that  child  with  his  angelic  voice,  his  childlike  innocence,  and  his 
love  not  only  for  his  mother,  but  for  everything  that  surrounds  him. 

It  is  the  highest  enjoyment  to  see  how  at  home  the  child  is  in  his 
world,  how  continually  active  and  occupied  he  is  in  it.  He  stands  now 
at  a  higher  point  of  knowledge  and  acquaintance  with  the  world  around 
him,  but  uninjured  in  his  innocent  childishness. 

This  child  lives  a  gentle  inner  life  ;  he  rejoices  inwardly  in  awaken- 
ing nature,  and  seizes  everything  with  attention  that  strikes  his  senses 
which  his  early  awakened  powers  of  body  and  mind  make  easily  pos- 
sible to  him.  The  mother  followed  Pestalozzi ;  what  she  did  she  did  by 
following  his  meaning.  It  is  not  possible  in  the  working  of  these  prin- 
ciples to  see  the  limits  of  the  culture  of  body,  soul  and  mind. 

Often  and  willingly  has  this  mother  said,  who  always  strove  to  do  her 
duty  before  she  knew  of  Pestalozzi,  that  from  Pestalozzi  she  had 
learned  how  to  be  a  mother. 

Pestalozzi's  Book  for  Mothers  would  have  been  much  less  unjustly 
judged  if  the  second  part  had  yet  appeared.  It  is  still  wanting,  alas  ! 
Pestalozzi  has  not  expressed  his  idea  fully  in  its  application  ;  this  is  an 
important  view  which  every  one  should  take  before  forming  a  judgment^ 

As  much  and  even  more  should  be  taken  into  consideration  in  judg- 
ing of  the  book,  is  that  what  Pestalozzi  wishes  is  not  limited  to  the 


FKOEBEL  ON  1'KSTALOZZI.  ?59 

time  when  the  faculty  of  speech  appears  in  the  child,  or  even  wnen  it 
actually  begins  to  speak;  no!  it  begins  in  the  working  and  application 
at  the  moment  when  the  child  perceives  outward  impressions  decid- 
edly, that  is,  discriminates  between  light  and  darkness.  The  mother 
must  already  have  taught  the  child  to  observe  everything,  to  separate 
everything  which  conies  within  the  circle  of  his  life,  before  the  peculiar 
moment  of  time  when  the  development  of  language  begins. 

I  know  children  so  treated  who  were  a  year  and  a  halt'  old  before  they 
began  to  speak,  but  who  could  discriminate  between  all  things  that 
immediately  surrounded  them,  and  appeared  to  have  distinct  and  quite 
significant  conceptions  of  everything.  If  the  child  has  been  so  treated 
it  has  the  very  essential  and  useful  advantage,  when  it  does  begin  to 
speak,  of  knowing  well  the  objects  it  is  about  to  name,  and  hence  needs 
not  to  divide  its  powers  but  can  apply  them  unitedly  in  the  naming  of 
them.  It  can  now  make  important  progress  in  speaking,  and  this  is 
really  the  case  with  such  children. 

The  Book  for  Mothers  first  gave  a  guide  for  teaching  the  child  to 
observe  that  language  is  the  medium  of  sympathy. 

The  mother  must  work  according  to  nature,  at  the  same  time  upon 
the  child's  capacity  for  language  and  its  development.  To  elevate  the 
social  life  between  mother,  father  and  child,  the  mother  widens  the 
child's  power  of  language.  The  father,  the  mother,  the  members  of 
the  family,  now  teach  the  child  the  meaning  of  the  language  they  speak,, 
that  they  may  mutually  understand  each  other  more  easily,  and  sympa- 
thize about  everything  that  surrounds  them. 

But  Pestalozzi  not  only  wishes  that  everything  that  happens  uncon- 
sciously shall  be  brought  to  the  consciousness,  that  that  which  has  hap- 
pened  shall  not  be  left  to  chance,  but  that  it  shall  happen  consecutively, . 
all-sidedly  and  comprehensively,  and  in  conformity  with  the  developing 
progress  of  the  child. 

The  meaning  of  language  which  Pestalozzi  now  wishes  to  have  the" 
child  learn  is  the  meaning  of  it  in  the  closest  sense,  the  special  mean- 
ing;  for  only  from  the  knowledge  of  the  particular  and  individual 
thing  can  man  rise  to  the  knowledge  and  command  of  the  universal. 

The  child  is  taught  then  the  meaning  of  every  single  word,  every  sin- 
gle expression.  The  manner  in  which  this  is  done  lies  darkly  in  the 
demands  of  human  nature,  but  the  Book  for  Mothers  gives  this  guidance 
in  the  first  place. 

According  to  Pestalozzi  the  child  is  now  to  learn  by  observation,  for 
example,  the  meaning  of  contrasted  words  which  it  either  hears  or  even 
speaks  already  intelligibly;  as  dark,  bright;  heavy,  light;  black,  white  ; 
transparent,  opaque ;  there,  here ;  furniture,  tool ;  animal,  stone ;  go, 
sit ;  run,  creep ;  coarse,  fine ;  more,  less ;  one,  many ;  living,  dead ; 
prick,  cut,  etc.  Pestalozzi  here  shows  particularly  how  contrast,  which 
he  always  designates  as  to  be  found  in  every  conception,  is  special1.- 
cultivating. 


260  FRoKisi.i.  <>N  ri-:>  i  M.-././I. 

Thus  far  the  mother  has  developed  the  child's  capacity  of  language 
according  to  Pestalozzi's  method  ;  she  has  taught  it  to  speak.  But  now 
before  she  carries  it  farther,  she  and  other  members  of  her  family 
ni -I <t  cultivate  this  capacity. 

The  speaking  of  the  child  rises  by  degrees  to  connected  language. 
The  child  knows  and  raises  itself  to  a  determined  knowledge  of  the 
meaning  of  all  that  it  sj>eaks. 

By  all  that  th"  mother  has  hitherto  done  for  the  child,  it  is  now  in  a 
condition  to  know  precisely  the  objects  with  \vhich  it  is  surrounded,  to 
observe  them  singly,  to  separate  them  from  each  other.  Its  power  to 
observe  is  perfectly  awakened,  and  in  full  activity.  The  circle  of  its 
knowledge  widens  as  its  world  widens;  it  accompanies  its  mother 
wherever  her  employments  call  her.  It  is  continually  led  to  know  more 
objects  of  the  surrounding  world.  The  objects  themselves  stand  forth 
more  and  more  prominently. 

It  recognizes  intelligibly  what  was  hitherto  unknown  and  unsepa- 
rated,  and  still  lies  partly  so,  and  will  continue  to  be  more  or  less  so  un- 
til it  consciously  surveys  a  fixed  portion  of  the  outward  world,  and  free 
and  independent  of  that  world,  can  again  create  and  represent  it. 

To  raise  the  child  to  this  perfectly  conscious  recognition  of  the  out- 
ward world,  must  hence  be  the  object  of  its  mother's  striving.  The 
glorious  kingdom  of  nature  now  opens  by  degrees  to  the  child  ;  led  by 
its  mother's  hand  it  enters  that  glorious  kingdom.  Nature  is  now  its 
world ;  the  child  creates  nature  from  its  world. 

A  hundred  little  stones,  a  hundred  little  plants,  flowers,  leaves,  a  hun- 
dred little  animals,  innumerable  objects  of  nature  accompany  its  steps; 
its  heart  beats  loudly.  It  finds  friends,  it  carries  about  and  takes  care 
of  objects  ;  but  it  does  not  know  why  it  is  happy,  why  it  carries  about 
and  takes  care  of  these  objects,  why  its  heart  beats  so  loudly.  Should 
these  impressions  be  allowed  to  vanish  without  having  been  firmly 
retained  ? 

According  to  Pestalozzi,  the  mother  now  teaches  the  child  to  perceive 
these  objects  on  all  sides,  to  recognize  all  their  qualities,  that  is,  \\  ith 
the  help  of  all  their  senses ;  she  teaches  it  to  use  its  observation  upon 
the  whole  aspect  of  them,  and  to  give  an  account  of  them  to  others. 

The  child  now  holds  firm  points  to  which  it  can  fasten  its  joy, — 
sound,  motion,  shape,  form,  smoothness,  etc.  It  sees  the  connection  of 
these  qualities  and  a  hundred  others  to  qualities  partly  determinable,  or 
merely  supposable ;  so  that  the  child  is  now  first  conscious  of  its  joy. 

How  happy  is  the  child  now  whom  its  mother  has  made  conscious  of 
all  these  impressions,  so  that  he  possesses  a*  firm  point  by  which  the 
outward  world  stands  in  contact  with  him,  so  that  he  does  not  remain 
in  the  dark  with  his  heart  oppressed  with  feeling  ;  so  that  he  does  not 
wander  in  a  mist  like  the  traveler  who  journeys  through  a  pleasing 
country  on  a  spring  morning  when  nature  is  partly  wrapped  in  vapor 
and  shows  him  the  light  that  gleams  through  it,  promising  a  delightful 


.  i:i.  ON  !•; 


261 


A>  man  longingly  wait>  tWthf  dispersion  of  the  mist  by  the 
nyso!  thi-  sun,  so  that  the  objects  of  nature  may  appear  in  light  and 
elearn.-ss,  so  the  child  \\aits  for  the  guidance  of  the  loving  mother  who 
will  explain  to  him  the  rapture  of  his  heart  and  show  him  why  he  re- 
joi'vs  in  anticipation. 

What  a  calling  for  the  mother!  She  teaches  the  child  to  become 
ious  of  his  joys,  of  the  objects  of  his  delight ;  she  teaches  it  how 
to  give  an  account  of  all  it  sees  and  feels,  to  express  it  in  words  and  to 
it  with  others. 

The  mother  thus  raises  the  child  into  a  creature  of  intelligence  and 

ng;  she  teaches  him  the  qualities  of  objects;  she  listens  to  every 

remark,  every  discovery,  every  word  of  her  child ;  she  rejoices  when  he 

lejoices;  she  receives  his  love  and  sympathy  in  her  own  breast,  she 

locates  it  and  guides  it  with  delight. 

As  the  nature  of  the  child  receives  life  and  significance  thus,  so  the  lan- 
which  the  child,  the  mother,  the  father,  the  family  speaks,  receives 
life  and  significance.  Every  word  becomes  an  object,  an  impression,  a 
picture;  to  every  word  the  child  joins  a  world,  a  cycle  of  impressions; 
he  goes  in  his  remarks  upon  the  qualities  of  things,  from  the  easier  to 
cue  more  difficult,  from  the  simple  to  the  complex;  he  loves  to  seek  and 
find  it  all  himself;  "Dear  mother,  let  me  find  it  myself,"  he  says. 
Often  have  I  with  joy  and  light-heartedness  heard  children  make  this 
prayer  with  shining,  sparkling  eyes  ! 

I  iter,  the  mother  leads  her  child  to  classifying  similar  things  (which 
it  tends  to  do  of  itself)  and  to  discriminating  between  different  things; 
thus  the  child  learns  to  compare  what  it  sees. 

The  child  besides  observing,  also  imitates.  Imitation  betters  and 
perfects  his  observations.  The  mother  not  only  allows  this  imitation, 
she  not  only  rejoices  in  it,  but  she  aids  it. 

The  child  likes  above  all  things  to  imitate  the  sound  which  it  has 
evoked  from  some  inanimate  object  perhaps,  or  which  it  seems  to  him 
to  produce.  It  tries  to  imitate  the  sound  of  everything,  falling,  jump- 
ing, breathing,  moving.  All  the  objects  of  nature,  animate  and  inani- 
mate, seem  to  emit  sounds ;  they  speak  audibly  to  him.  The  mother 
rejoices  in  the  child's  delight  when  in  the  spring  it  imitates  the  sounds 
of  nature,  and  she  challenges  him  to  do  it ;  she  does  it  unconsciously 
when  her  impulse  to  do  it  is  not  disturbed.  Who  has  not  seen  a  poor 
mother  playing  with  her  child  or  heard  her  say,  "  What  does  the  sheep 
do?  What  does  the  dog  say,  the  ox,  the  bird?"  The  child's  imita- 
tions increase  ;  it  imitates  the  twittering  of  the  bird,  and  thus  its  own 
human  tone  is  awakened. 

If  the  mother  sings,  and  accompanies  the  song  of  the  birds  with  her 
human  tones,  he  will  imitate  this,  and  thus  will  not  only  his  feeling  be 
awakened  for  the  highest  human  expression,  song,  but  his  whole  being 
A  exalted,  from  the  humming  of  the  bees  to  the  representation  of  hi» 
jwn  feelings  by  simple,  connected  and  varied  human  tones. 


FKoi:ui:i.  UN  PK8TALOZZI, 

I" he  outward  world  is  now  no  longer  to  the  child,  guided  I  >\  1  Y-stalozzi's 
method,  the  chaotic,  confused,  misty  mass,  which  it  was  earlier.     1.  It 
is  iiow  individualized.     ±   What  is  separated  it  can  name.     ;\.   It  can 
seize  it  at  a  glance  independent  of  other  relations,  and  according  t<>  it-. 
relation  to  himself  and  to  others.     4.  It  can  designate  what  it  ota 
and  all  its  relations  1>\  language;  it  can  speak  and  knows  the  meaning 
of  the  language  of  its  parents.     5.  It  knows  an  object  not  only  oil 
side  but  on  several  sides.     6.  It  can  take  an  object  in  at  a  glance  in 
many  relations.     7.  It  can  compare  one  object  with  another  and  recog- 
nize the  peculiar  qualities  of  each. 

Ideas  of  Number. 

The  first  general  quality  of  objects  is  their  computability.  Objects 
are  now  individually  separated  to  the  child's  mind,  consequently  follow- 
ing each  other  in  time  and  thus  appear  computable. 

The  mother  now  teaches  her  child  to  recognize  the  computability  of 
objects,  and  to  separate  the  qualities  and  relations  of  computable  objects 
in  nature,  with  real  objects  before  it,  and  not  first  by  counting  in  an 
abstract  manner. 

By  the  exercises  arranged  by  Pestalozzi  the  mother  brings  to  the 
consciousness  of  the  child  something  which  hitherto  was  merely  an 
obscure  presentiment,  scarcely  a  conscious  feeling ;  she  brings  the  con- 
ception of  number,  the  precise  knowledge  of  the  qualities  and  relations 
of  the  computable,  to  his  clear,  intelligible  consciousness. 

The  mother  teaches  the  child  that  one  stone  and  again  one  stone  are 
two  stones,  etc. 

Farther,  she  teach' s  him  to  know  the  value  of  numbers  by  the  oppo- 
site process,  for  example,  ten  nuts  less  one  nut  are  nine  nuts. 

Already  this  little  exercise  has  brought  conversation  to  life  between 
mother  and  child,  when,  for  example,  in  the  first  case,  she  says  to  the 
child,  "  Lay  down  two  flowers  and  one  flower ;  how  many  flowers  have 
you?  how  many  times  one  flower  have  you?  how  many  times  two 
flowers  have  you  ?  "  etc. 

Or,  in  the  second  case,  for  the  solving  of  numbers,  she  says  to  the 
child,  "  Put  away  one  of  your  six  beans ;  now  how  many  have  you  ? 
how  many  times  one  bean  have  you  still  ?  " 

The  mother  goes  a  step  farther ;  she  now  lets  him  add  two,  three  and 
four  ;  for  example  :  "One  stone  and  two  stones  are  three  stones." 

The  child  learns  by  observation  that  5  are  5  times  1,  are  4  and  1,  and 
3  and  2. 

Or,  1  and  3  are  4,  4  and  3  are  7,  7  and  3  are  10  objects. 

The  mother  then  goes  backwards  over  the  same  ground.  For  exam- 
ple :  if  you  take  2  from  15,  13  remain. 

Questions  enliven  and  elevate  conversation  between  the  mother  and 
Child. 

The  mother  may  work  in  the  field  or  in  the  house ;  the  child  sits  near 


Ki;"i-:iJKi.  OS  i-K>i  AI.C/.ZI.  263 

and  plays  with  stones  or  flowers.  The  mother  asks :  "  When  you  put 
'2  Ho  \\ers  to  1,  how  many  have  you?" 

All  this  is  play  to  the  child  ;  it  handles  its  favorite  objects  ;  it  moves 
th.-in  about,  and  sees  a  purpose  in  doing  it,  for  in  all  its  plays  the  child 
gives  itself  a  problem.  The  child  is  with  its  mother,  so  it  is  happy, 
And  its  mind  and  feelings  are  awakened. 

When  the  child  knows  how  to  count  in  these  different  ways,  and 
knows  the  qualities  of  numbers  thus  represented,  it  will  soon  find  that 
the  pea  1-at'  has  L}  times  2  little  leaves,  and  the  rose  leaf  2  times  3  little 
leaves.  A  hint  to  the  mother,  and  she  carries  her  child  still  another 
step  in  the  knowledge  of  computation.  The  child  has  several  single 
objects  around  it.  "  Place  your  little  blocks,"  the  mother  says,  "  so 
that  2  will  lie  in  every  heap.  Have  you  done  it?  Count  how  many 
times  -  you  have."  The  child  will  count :  "  I  have  2  times  2,  3  times  2, 
or  I  have  1  time  2 ;"  or  it  will  say  perhaps  a  little  later,  "  I  have  1 
two  heap  ;  2  two  heaps,"  etc. 

The  mother  goes  farther  and  says :  "  Place  your  things  so  that  3  or  4 
or  5  will  lie  together,  and  tell  me  how  many  times  3  or  4  or  5,  etc.,  you 
have."  [She  selects  one  of  these  numbers,  of  course.  We  omit  many 
similar  exercises  in  numbers  now  familiar  to  kindergartners.] 

FORM. 

So  Pestalozzi  would  have  the  mother  teach  the  child  form  in  its  play. 

•  11  re  is  a  lath — it  is  straight;  here  is  a  branch — it  is  crooked." 
The  child  remarks  the  laths  on  the  fence,  the  prongs  on  the  rake  ;  they 
are  at  equal  distances  from  each  other.  His  mother  tells  him  they  are 
parallel.  The  ribs  on  the  leaf  of  the  large  plantain  unite  in  a  point; 
they  are  radiating.  The  child  goes  into  the  woods  with  its  mother ;  it 
sees  the  fir  trees  and  the  pines,  it  is  pleased  with  the  variety ;  and  it 
knows  how  to  describe  it.  The  needles  of  the  fir  tree  are  parallel,  those 
of  the  pine  unite  in  a  point. 

The  child  observes  the  relations  of  the  branches  to  the  stem.  Its 
mother  has  taught  it  to  observe  angles.  The  branches  and  the  stems 
form  angles,  but  these  joinings  of  branch  and  stem  make  in  one  tree 
quite  a  different  impression  upon  the  child  from  those  in  another  tree. 
How  delighted  it  now  is  to  recognize  this  variety,  so  that  it  has  a  firm 
point  to  which  it  can  fasten  its  impressions.  It  is  the  greater  or  less 
inclination  of  the  branch  to  the  stem.  So  in  the  surroundings  in  nature, 
which  is  its  world  it  recognizes,  led  by  its  mother,  it  sees  3  or  4,  or 
many  cornered  forms.  The  intersection  of  the  hemlock  twig  forms  a 
regular  pentagonal  (or  five  corners).  The  mother  leads  the  child  to  a 
regular  comparison  of  this  form  and  to  seek  its  variety. 

The  child  will  soon  pluck  leaves  and  find  other  objects  in  view  of  their 
forms,  and  with  childish  critical  senses  will  separate  them  from  the  ob- 
jects to  which  they  belong.  He  will  po  farther  than  I  venture  to  describe. 

"  See,  mother,  what  round  leaves  I  have  found,"  and  the  child  shows 


261 

/  FROEBEL  ON  PESTALOZZI. 

the  mother  many  such  leaves,  of  larger  and  smaller  sizes,  which  he  has 
picked.  "  See  how  little  this  one  is,  and  how  big  this  one  is  !  "  he  thus 
leads  himself  to  the  contemplation  of  size.  A  hint,  a  word  from  the 
mother,  and  the  child  has  received  a  new  item  of  culture. 

He  selects  three  leaves,  lays  them  upon  each  other,  and  says  :  "  That 
is  the  largest  leaf,  that  is  smaller,  but  that  is  the  smallest." 

"  Mother,  look  at  this  long  stalk.  The  staik  of  the  flax  is  only  half 
as  long,"  he  will  perhaps  say,  if  he  has  learned  the  meaning  of  the 
word  half.  Or,  after  the  mother  has  laid  the  flax  upon  the  corn  stalk, 
he  will  say,  "  this  is  2  times  as  long,"  or  perhaps  as  long  again  as  that 
one,  or  he  breaks  a  pear  leaf  in  the  middle,  lengthwise,  and  finds  both 
halves  equally  long;  perhaps  he  cannot  describe  what  he  finds  and  his 
mother  tells  him  that  these  two  parts  of  a  whole  are  called  halves,  and 
thus  widens  the  circle  of  his  knowledge  again. 

Pestalozzi  wishes  to  make  known  intelligibly  in  small  things  the  at- 
tributes of  form  as  well  as  the  recognition  of  the  foundation  of  its. 
qualities. 

The  child  will  lead  on  the  attentive  mother  and  father  still  farther. 

The  child  will  soon  come  to  the  consideration  of  large  equal  objects 
in  comparison  with  large  unequal  objects ;  he  will  find  that  a  part  is 
smaller  than  the  whole,  the  whole  is  larger  than  a  part. 

Objects  of  nature  as  well  as  of  art  will  lead  the  child  to  this  com- 
parison. 

Everything  in  his  circle,  in  his  world,  will  thus  become  means  of  in- 
formation, material  for  development. 

If  the  child  is  in  its  earliest  years  where  the  mother  is,  and  rightly 
guided,  it  costs  but  a  suggestion  from  her  and  it  can  busy  itself  many 
hours. 

It  accumulates  objects,  arranges  and  investigates  them ;  it  is  quiet 
and  happy. 

One  will  scarcely  realize  that  fee  cLuH  is  occupied,  and  yet  the  powers 
of  its  soul  and  mind  are  coming  lorward  and  developing  themselves  by 
practice. 

In  this  way  all  the  capacities  and  powers  of  the  child  are  now  devel- 
oped according  to  Pestalozzi's  method ;  his  senses  cultivated,  his  inner 
and  outer  being  exalted  to  true  life  ;  he  errs  no  more  unconsciously  as 
one  enveloped  in  mist ;  the  way  is  open  for  every  kind  of  knowledge, 
every  shade  of  feeling.  Sympathy,  that  beautiful  attribute  of  man,  is 
possible  to  him  in  its  whole  scope ;  his  language  is  formed. 

With  deepest  love  he  hangs  upon  the  glance  of  his  mother,  his  father 
— the  parents  to  whom  he  owes  all  this  joy. 

All  which  has  thus  far  been  done  by  the  mother  was  the  object  of  the 
Book  for  Mothers,  and  suggested  by  it;  at  least  this  is  what  Pestalozzi 
wished  for  as  belonging  to  the  calling  of  the  mother. 

Pestalozzi  wishes  that  the  child  shall  live  in  this  manner  seven  happy,, 
delightful  years. 


FROEBEL  ON  PESTALOZZI.  265- 

The  child  has  now,  thus  guided,  received  its  culture  through  the 
mother,  for  what  is  now  in  the  child,  what  now  transports  it  will  always 
jllive  in  it,  will  give  value  to  its  life,  dignity  to  its  being.  She  now  sur- 
renders  it  fully  prepared  to  the  father,  the  parental  teacher,  or  to  his^ 
representative,  the  school-master,  for  definite  instruction,  definite 
teaching.  , 

The  instruction  which  the  father  or  school-master  will  now  give  to 
the  child  will  join  on  where  the  mother  ended. 

The  child  should  find  no  other  difference  between  this  teaching  and 
that  of  its  mother;  now  every  object  stands  singly,  all  instruction  has 
I  a  determined  time.  The  manner  of  handling  the  subjects  of  instruc- 
tion must  be  in  harmony  with  that  of  its  mother. 

Man  as  a  Scholar. 

[The  next  division  of  this  article  upon  Pestalozzi  is  entitled  MAN  AS 
A  SCHOLAR,  and  in  it  Frobel  describes  minutely  Pestalozzi's  mode  o* 
teaching  everything :] 

Language — the  mother  tongue  in  reference  to  its  meaning,  the  formal 
part  of  language  ;  descriptions  of  nature,  of  the  products  of  art,  of  the 
earth's  surface.  Second  course  of  geographical  instruction,  the  knowl- 
edge of  numbers,  forms,  size,  singing,  drawing  (Schmidt's  method;, 
reading,  writing. 

This  instruction  is  not  given  from  books,  but  from  life,  observation 
of  nature,  walks,  examination  of  works  of  art  and  use,  etc.,  etc. 

INTRODUCTION    OF    THIS    METHOD    INTO    THE    SCHOOLS. 

The  demands  which  Pestalozzi  makes  upon  the  teacher  are  simple  and  s 
natural ;  they  are  founded  in  the  nature  of  the  teacher  as  well  as  in  the  ~* 
nature  of  the  scEoIari  Therefore  they  will  be  intelligible  and  easy  of 
execution  and  representation  to  every  teacher,  even  the  country  school- 
teacher, who  can  unite  good  will  with  power  and  understanding,  as  soon 
as  he  has  suitably  prepared  himself  in  the  method.  Tt  is  the  same  with 
the  subjects  which  Pestalozzi  wishes  to  have  taught.  They  go  from 
the  simple,  their  march  is  connected  in  a  determined  sequence  lying  in 
the~~na£ure  of  every  subject  of  instruction.  If  the  teacher  has  been 
taught  only  the  first  point,  the  nature  and  essence  of  his  subject,  through 
observation  in  his  own  practice,  he  can  not  only  proceed  easily  according 
to  the  demand  of  that  subject,  but  even  instruct  the  scholar  in  it  con- 
secutively. 

The  teacher  with  good  will  and  the  impulse  to  perfect  himself  (and 
upon  what  teacher  who  wishes  to  perfect  others  would  not  this  requisi- 
tion be  made  ?)  will  very  soon  perceive  with  the  utmost  joy  the  glorious 
effects  of  the  Pestalozzian  method  upon  himself;  he  will  find  it 
grounded  in  his  nature.  The  Pestalozzian  principles  will  thus  become 
his  own  ;  they  will  flow  into  his  whole  life ;  and  thus  he  will  express  it 
with  mind,  love,  warmth,  life  and  freedom  in  all  his  acts,  and  instruct 


266  FROEBEL  ON  PESTALOZZl. 

and  represent  it  to  his  scholars  according  to  their  needs,  as  to  his  own 
children  and  brethren. 

There  would  be  few  difficulties  in  introducing  Pestalozzi's  method 
into  the  schools,  if  teachers,  and  those  who  feel  it  their  destiny  to  be 
such,  should  make  themselves  familiar  at  his  institution  with  his  princi- 
ples, and  should  acquire  the  readiness  and  dexterity  in  applying  them, 
which  they  could  do  on  the  spot.  Supposing  that  they  know  and  honor 
the  duties  and  demands  of  their  calling,  strive  to  fulfill  tht-m  with  all 
their  power,  and,  thinking  for  themselves,  not  act  mechanically,  tjbeir 
efforts  would  be  facilitated  by  the  Pestalozzian  method  ;  in  the  first 
place  because  it  corresponds  to  their  natures  as  well  as  to  that  of  their 
pupils,  and  again  because  its  workings  will  fill  them  and  their  pupils 
with  inward  joy  and  exhilarating  pleasure ;  it  would  enable  them  to 
fulfill  their  calling  not  only  with  love  and  joy,  but  with  power  and 
enthusiasm.  They  will  not  be  behindhand  in  their  own  self-perfecting 
when  they  teach  their  scholars,  even  the  lowly  among  the  people,  even 
the  preliminary  points  of  every  subject ;  they  will  have  the  opportunity 
for  thought  whereby  their  own  minds  will  be  farther  developed.  Their 
human  hearts,  their  loving  souls,  will  be  filled  with  nourishment.  They 
will  never  be  machines  even  when  they  are  teaching  the  simplest  thing ; 
for  they  will  never  depend  upon  arbitrarily  given  rules,  followed  every 
•day  regularly  without  farther  thought.  Indeed,  if  they  wish  to  teach 
according  to  Pestalozzi's  principles,  it  will  be  necessary  to  think,  jso  that 
what  they  teach  will  be  living  and  active  in  itself,  and  be.  presented 
livingly  and  glowingly  so  as  to  awaken  life  and  activity  in  others. 

By  their  knowledge  of  this  method,  the  teachers,  ir>  order  to  under- 
stand its  introduction,  will  make  it  not  only  possible  to  fulfill  their  duty 
far  more  comprehensively  and  better  than  before,  but  will  find  their 
work  much  facilitated  by  it,  for  by  its  conformity  to  nature  it  bears 
within  itself  the  quality  that  every  advanced  scholar  will  be  able  to 
teach  and  instruct  others.  Very  essential  and  many-sided  advantages 
will  arise  out  of  this  to  both  scholars  and  schools. 

1.  All  the  scholars  will  be,  according  to  their  needs  and  at  all  times, 
employed  under  a  teacher,  will  be  always  under  inspection,  and  never 
left  to  themselves  or  to  indolence,  a  thing  so  common  in  schools,  but 
will  be  at  all  times  engaged  in  their  development  and  culture. 

2.  For  the  instructed  and  assistant  pupils  will  themselves  penetrate 
deeper  into  the  method,  and  hence  be  better  able  to  comprehend  the 
teaching  they  will  receive.     Their  power  of  thought  and  judgment  will 
be  in  continual  exercise,  their  feelings  and  souls  will  have  the  opportu- 
nity to  practice  love  and  ready  service,  and  thus,  while  upon  one  side 
their  understandings  will  be  cultivated,  on  the  other  they  will  rise  to 
practical  humanity.      The  school  itself  will  thus  be  sustained  like  a 
family,  the  teacher  of  which  is  the  father,  the  pupils  of  which  are  the 
children ;  these  will  be  like  brothers  and  sisters  of  the  same  family,  in 
which  the  weaker  will  be  sustained  by  the  stronger. 


FROEBEL  ON  PESTALOZZI.  267 

Whose  heart  does  not  be.it  quickly  to  see  the  schools  of  his  beloved 
fatherland  thus  exalted? 

The  assistant  teacher  will  receive  thus  the  most  highly  essential 
advantage  ;  he  must  never  weaken  his  powers  by  frittering  .them  away, 
that  he  may  always  be  able  to  devote  them  wholly  to  the  department 
taught  by  him. 

The  school  receives  this  essential  advantage — that  unity  reigns  in  the 
whole  instruction.  So  much  more  important  progress  will  the  pupils 
make.  The  school  can  thus  naturally  answer  perfectly  to  the  demands 
of  the  parents,  the  children  always  be  suitably  and  directly  employed, 
and  all  things  work  together  for  their  culture. 

The  instruction  will  thus  gain  in  life,  interest  and  variety  by  every 
xilass  of  the  pupils  being  occupied  specially  and  particularly  according 
to  their  ages. 

If  we  were  to  take  into  consideration  the  wants  of  the  people  in  the 
arrangement  and  application  of  subjects  of  instruction  in  the  people's 
schools  and  the  country  schools,  a  teacher  in  a  country  or  village  school, 
supported  by  some  of  his  most  capable  pupils,  could  fulfill  the  demands 
of  Pestalozzi  for  eighty  or  more  scholars  by  seven  hours  of  daily  in- 
struction (two  afternoons  being  excepted). 

Since  the  child  is  first  capable  at  eight  years  of  age  of  being  treated 
as  a  scholar,  according  to  Pestalozzi's  principles,  if  hitherto  but  little 
nas  been  done  for  his  development  by  his  parents  and  his  mother,  a 
fixed  time,  to  fall  between  the  sixth  and  seventh  year,  must  be  arranged 
t  by  local  conditions  to  receive  him  into  the  school  in  order  to  supply 
what  the  first  education  at  home  has  neglected. 

Therefore  at  first  all  the  children  who  go  to  the  school  will  be  divided 
into  two  principal  classes  or  divisions. 

The  first  division  will  constitute  the  children's  class,  and  these  pupils 
will  be  under  eight  years  of  age.  The  manner  of  their  treatment  wilt 
be  determined  by  their  age,  for  they  are  children  in  the  narrow  sense 
of  the  word ;  they  have  not  emerged  from  the  circle  determined  by  the 
foregoing  representation  of  the  Book  for  Mothers. 

The  second  division  will  consist  of  the  school  classes,  and  the  pupils 
will  be  from  eight  years  up  to  the  age  in  which  they  usually  leave  school. 
The  manner  of  their  treatment  is  determined  by  Pestalozzi's  method  of 
instruction. 

This  second  division  must  be  divided  again  into  two  parts ;  into  the 
lower  class  in  which  the  pupils  are  at  all  events  from  eight  to  eleven 
years  old,  and  the  upper  class  which  contains  the  pupils  from  eleven 
years  of  age  to  the  end  of  the  school  time.  The  whole  school  would  be 
divided  then  into  three  classes  ;  the  first  or  child's  class ;  the  second  or 
lower  school  class  ;  the  third  or  upper  school  class. 

According  to  this  division  of  the  classes  the  following  subjects  of     n^" 
•instruction  are  possible  : 

The  second  class  could  receive  two  hours'  instruction  in  the  descrip- 


268  FKOEBEL  ON  PESTALOZZI. 

tion  of  nature ;  the  third  class  two  hours  in  natural  history.  In  this- 
way  the  pupils  become  acquainted  not  only  with  the  greater  part  of  the- 
natural  products  of  their  fatherland,  particularly  of  the  region  in  which 
they  live,  but  also  of  the  foreign  natural  products  of  essential  impor- 
tance to  that  region. 

The  second  class  could  devote  two  hours  in  the  week  to  the  descrip- 
tion of  products  of  art;  the  third  class  two  hours  to  technology.  And 
here  what  is  essential  to  the  pupils  in  the  circle  in  which  they  live  is 
alone  necessary. 

Then  two  hours  of  description  of  the  earth  for  the  second  class,  and- 
two  hours  of  knowledge  of  different  countries.  The  second  class  could, 
give  one  of  these  hours  in  the  middle  of  the  week  to  a  walk.  Thus 
they  would  learn  to  know  Germany  (its  physical  limits)  and  especially 
the  Thuringian  valley  accurately,  and  have  a  general  view  of  Europe. 

In  the  description  of  other  countries,  they  are  taught  the  products  of. 
nature  and  art  in  each  country,  the  manner  of  life  and  system  of  gov- 
ernment of  the  inhabitants,  and  the  relations  of  every  land  and  of  the 
inhabitants  of  each  to  the  territories  in  which  they  live. 

The  fatherland  of  the  pupils  stands  first  in  importance  in  all  these 
three  topics. 

The  second  class  can  have  six  hours  of  arithmetic.  The  third  class 
also  six  hours  of  the  same.  In  the  second  class  it  will  be  chiefly  men- 
tal arithmetic,  in  the  third  class  chiefly  ciphering  or  written  arithmetic 
(on  the  slate). 

The  second  class  can  have  four  hours  upon  the  theory  of  forms  and 
drawing ;  the  third  class  four  hours  in  geometry  and  drawing.  To  fix 
more  sharply  the  relation  of  the  hours  for  arithmetic,  theory  of  forms, 
geometry  and  drawing,  a  part  should  be  precise  local  knowledge,  a  part 
dependent  upon  what  knowledge  the  pupils  of  the  child's  class  in  the 
•lower  school  class  already  have. 

The  second  class  can  have  six  hours  of  reading  and  mother  tongue  ;. 
the  third  class  four  hours  of  the  formal  theory  of  language. 

The  exercises  in  beautiful  handwriting  can  be  connected  afterwards 
with  grammatical  exercises. 

The  third  class  needs  neither  special  hours  for  reading  or  writing, 
because  the  pupils  have  been  firmly  grounded  in  these  before  they 
passed  into  the  third  class.  To  practice  and  cultivate  themselves  more 
in  both,  they  find  sufficient  opportunity  in  writing  upon  the  other  topics. 

The  second  class  can  have  three  hours  in  singing,  and  the  third  class 
the  same. 

Lastly,  the  second  class  can  have  six  hours  of  religious  instruction, 
and  the  third  class  nine  hours.  In  the  third  class  this  consists  of  the 
reports  of  the  preaching,  passages  of  scripture  and  songs  ;  in  the  recita- 
tion of  Bible  texts  and  songs,  not  only  in  the  words  but  in  the  signiiie^r 
tion  which  the  pupil  has  given  to  both. 

The  particulars  of  the  instruction  in  the  first  or  child's  class  I  pass: 


FROEBEL  ON  PESTALOZZi.  £69 

over,  since  the  subjects,  as  well  as  their  treatment,  are  designated  in  the 
way  in  which  they  are  represented. 

•In  no  other  than  the  Pestalozzian  method  can  the  child  be  employed 
in  such  a  variety  of  ways,  or  in  so  few  hours  could  such  a  goal  be 
reached  on  every  topic. 

According  to  Pestalozzi's  meaning  and  principles,  no  topic  should  ^ 
stand  isolated  ;  only  in  organic  union  do  they  lead  to  the  desired  goal, 
which  is  the  cultivation  and  education  of  the  child  and  pupil. 

This  suggestion  for  the  assignment  of  hours  and  subjects  is  only 
made  for  the  country  schools  ;  for  the  city  schools,  there  are  generally 
three  regular  teachers  for  greater  perfection  of  instruction. 

But  the  organization  of  a  school  according  to  Pestalozzi's  principles 
makes  two  essential  requisitions  ;  first,  that  the  children  of  the  school 
age  can  only  be  received  into  the  school  at  two  fixed  seasons  ;  and  that 
all  school  children,  except  iu  the  vacations,  shall  come  to  school  punctu- 
ally and  uninterruptedly.  If  a  single  hour  is  neglected  by  the  pupil,  it 
is  never  possible  to  make  it  wholly  up  without  great  disadvantage  to 
his  companions  in  that  topic,  since  this  method  makes  a  steady  advance 
and  is  characterized  by  a  continuous  progress. 

All  the  faults  which  hitherto  may  be  found  in  country  and  city 
schools  are  prevented  by  the  introduction  of  this  method. 

Order,  permanent  and  spontaneous  occupation,  taking  into  account 
both  mind  and  character,  gradual  progress  in  culture,  living  and  funda- 
mental knowledge  in  the  pupil,  love,  true  love  of  it  on  his  part,  love  for 
the  school  and  for  the  teacher,  contempt  for  all  superficial  knowledge 
in  the  schools  of  all  kinds,  or  among  the  people.  These  are  the  essen- 
tial consequences  of  schools  directed  on  Pestalozzi's  principles. 

To  every  one  who  relies  upon  the  school  for  his  circle  of  knowledge, 
he  has  marked  out  the  path  for  perfecting  and  ennobling  himself. 

Love  for  teachers  and  companions,  parents  and  family,  will  in  riper 
age  become  a  more  exalted  love  of  country,  deep  reverence  for  the 
princes  who  are  to  be  regarded  as  superior  fathers. 

The  many-sided  practical  power,  the  strength  of  mind  and  body  he  \ 
has  acquired,  will  make  it  possible  for  every  one  so  trained  to  act  not 
only  with  power  for  the  welfare  of  his  own  family,  but  to  be  an  actively 
working  subject  for  the  good  of  the  people. 

Simplicity,  contentment  with  his  condition  of  firm  independence  of 
character,  thoughtful  action,  the  promotion  of  family  and  public  happi- 
ness, practical  virtue,  true  religion,  will  characterize  the  citizens  edu- 
cated according  to  Pestalozzi's  method. 

Upon  the  Possibility  of  introducing  Pestalozzfs  Method  among  the  Mothers 
and  Parents  of  the  People,  for  the  Natural  Education  and  Treatment  of 
their  Children  up  to  the  Sixth  Year. 

Even  the  introduction  of  Pestalozzi's  method  into  the  families  is  not 
so  difficult  as  it  is  thought  to  be,  for  every  mother  loves  her  child,  has 


270  FRO'EBEL  ox  PESTALOZZI. 

him  with  her  most  of  the  time  up  to  a  certain  age,  and  willingly  con 
verses  and  occupies  herself  with  him. 

It  needs  little  guidance,  therefore,  even  of  the  uncultivated  mother, 
in  order  to  teach  her  .'  ow  to  treat  her  child  according  to  its  nature  and 
to  lead  it  farther  on  than  usual ;  it  depends  upon  how  this  guidance  is. 
given  to  her. 

Mere  words  will  work  quite  in  a  contrary  way,  but  every  mother 
like:*  to  have  people  interested  in  her  child. 

Could  these  dispositions  of  the  mother  be  used  to  give  her  confidence- 
in  Pestalozzi's  method  so  that  she  could  converse  with  her  child  and 
occupy  herself  with  it  in  an  intelligent  manner,  one  might  so  interest 
the  mother  herself  in  it  that  she  would  soon  perceive  the  benefit  and 
joy  of  the  child  in  her  occupation  with  it ;  while  she  occupies  herself 
with  the  child  she  cultivates  herself  also. 

But  what  is  thus  naturally  given  must  not  go  beyond  her  power  of 
N  conception  and  representation.     The  more  simple,  easy  and  comprehen- 
sible  what   is  given   her  the  better.     And    what  country  teacher  or 
country  clergyman  has  not  often  an  opportunity  so  to  influence  parents 
and  child ! 

If  even  but  little  can  be  effected,  what  is  really  essential  might  be 
done  by  a  country  teacher  or  pastor,  with  the  help  of  a  few  members  of 
the  community,  to  spread  the  knowledge  of  a  better  nurture  of  little 
children,  one  more  conformable  to  nature.  By  the  direction  of  the 
schools  according  to  the  principles  of  Pestalozzi,  where  the  older  and 
more  advanced  pupils  teach  the  more  backward  ones,  the  introduction 
and  generalizing  of  the  above  mentioned  treatment  of  the  children 
would  surely  be  possible,  and  made  far  easier  because  the  older  mem- 
bers of  families  are  so  often  left  in  charge  of  the  younger  ones  by  their 
parents. 

By  such  direction  of  the  schools,  these  representatives  of  the  parents 
may  receive  the  material  with  which  they  can  develop  and  cultivate 
their  little  brothers  and  sisters  by  occupying  them  happily.  How 
many  evils  which  so  often  are  inflicted  upon  children  might  be  averted 
in  this  way ! 

The  child  so  guided  will  never  give  itself  by  way  of  pastime  to  evil 
habits ;  it  will  become  accustomed  early  to  a  proper  way  of  thinking 
and  feeling  and  will  then  never  have  any  pleasure  in  idleness.  The 
number  of  children  deserving  of  compassion  who  run  about  under  the 
name  of  "  blackguards  "  and  do  not  know  what  to  do  with  their  time, 
would  vanish  out  of  sight  under  this  influence.  All  would  strive  con- 
sciously and  unconsciously  for  the  high  aim  of  becoming  productive 
and  estimable  citizens,  and  of  protecting  those  who  are  weaker  in  their 
endeavors  to  seek  the  same  goal. 

Honored  princess,  linger  a  moment  over  this  picture ;  find  in  it  the 
happiness  which  this  method  will  spread  abroad  over  all  conditions  of 
men. 


FKOEBE1    JN  PESTALOZZI.  l.7l 

And  how  much  more  glorious  would  be  the  effect  of  such  schools, 
when  the  pupil  youth  so  guided  shall  become  a  father,  and  the  young 
woman  educated  on  these  principles  shall  once  be  a  mother.  She  will 
be  a  true  mother  ;  unconsciously  and  without  farther  guidance  she  will 
impart  to  her  child  what  is  in  herself ;  she  will  naturally  treat  and  edu- 
cate her  child  according  to  Pestalozzi.  Capable  young  people  who  feel 
the  calling  within  themselves  can  thus  cultivate  themselves  for  still 
higher  work,  and  be  useful  whether  as  husbands  or  fathers  by  their 
information,  counsel  and  acts. 

Let  them  unite  with  some  others  of  the  community  who  are  most 
active  for  its  welfare ;  let  them  use  this  spirit  to  do  good  with. 

On  Sundays  and  feast-days  let  them  come  together,  if  only  a  few,  to 
gather  the  youths  and  maidens  around  them ;  let  them  invite  some  of 
the  fathers  and  mothers  to  make  it  more  agreeable. 

Let  the  knowledge  of  the  world  and  of  nature  be  the  subject  of  their 
conversation,  not  formally  or  discursively  ;  no,  let  it  proceed  from  their 
own  observation  and  examination  how  they  as  well  as  children  learn  to 
occupy  themselves  from  the  simplest  thing  to  the  most  complex.  At 
least  let  the  possibility  of  the  introduction  of  the  Pestalozzian  method 
among  the  people  be  shown.  By  its  introduction  to  the  schools  its  in- 
fluence among  the  people  will  be  so  much  the  more  secure  and  rich  in 
consequences. 

Upon   the    Connection  of  the   Elementary  Instruction  of  Pestalozzi  with 
higher  Scientific  Instruction. 

The  series  of  elementary  instruction  continues  uninterruptedly  into 
the  higher  and  scientific. 

To  represent  this  progress  in  detail  would  carry  me  too  far.  Permit 
me  simply  to  indicate  the  connection. 

Language  retains  as  higher  scientific  construction  both  the  directions 
it  had  taken  as  elementary  instruction. 

In  one  direction,  and  indeed  formally,  it  rises  to  the  philosophy  of 
language  (form  is  here  taken  in  a  wider  sense)  ;  in  the  other  direction 
it  rises  to  scientific  and  artistic  representation. 

Classification  or  system  proceeds  from  the  description  of  nature 
directly,  according  to  one  direction  ;  according  to  the  other,  the  history 
of  the  products  of  nature. 

Both  run  parallel.  As  the  description  of  nature  rises  to  individual 
classification,  so  from  natural  history  proceeds  the  individual  histories 
of  the  species. 

The  description  of  the  surTice  of  the  earth  becomes  in  uninterrupted 
sequence  the  history  of  th&  earth's  surface  ;  afterwards  it  necessarily 
blends  with  ancient  geography.  Since  the  old  geography  proceeds 
according  to  its  elements  from  the  highest  point  of  the  earth's  sur- 
face, this  determines  the  biblical  geography  to  be  the  beginning  of  this 
topic. 


272  FROEBEL  ON  PESTALOZZI. 

Description  of  men  becomes  anthropology,  physiology  and  psychol- 
ogy (which  must  come  out  of  history  and  through  which,  first  receives 
here  its  true  meaning)  and  at  last  human  history.  Here  first  comes 
the  history  of  individual  men,  then  their  history  as  fathers  of  families, 
then  the  history  of  the  whole  family  of  the  people  and  the  nation. 

Only  biblical  history  corresponds  to  this  natural  continuous  progress, 
since  it  ascends  from  the  individual  to  the  whole,  therefore  the  begin- 
ning would  be  made  with  it ;  in  it  lies  the  starting  point  for  farther 
progress.  Here  comes  in  the  study  and  learning  of  the  ancient  lan- 
guages. History  and  ancient  geography  now  run  parallel. 

The  introduction  of  the  Pestalozzian  method  of  instruction  in  geog- 
raphy is  highly  essential  to  the  study  of  ancient  geography. 

Arithmetic  develops  without  a  break  into  the  mathematics  of  abstract 
computable  quantities  in  all  its  branches. 

Geometry  develops  in  a  similar  uninterrupted  succession  into  the 
mathematics  of  fixed  magnitudes  in  its  whole  extent  and  all  its  subdi- 
visions. Knowledge  of  the  elementary  powers  of  nature  develops  into 
natural  history  in  the  wider  sense  and  in  all  its  compass. 

The  description  of  the  products  of  art  becomes  the  history  of  the 
products  of  art  in  its  greatest  range. 

Elementary  drawing  rises  to  drawing  as  an  art  and  proceeds  to  plas- 
tic representation  of  different  kinds. 

The  theory  of  form  according  to  its  essence  must  stand  in  a  highei 
contact  with  the  aesthetic ;  their  connection  is  not  yet  found. 

Song  rises  to  art  and  founds  instrumental  music  in  its  various  forms. 

Thus,  according  to  Pestalozzi,  the  whole  is  carried  out  till  all  these 
sciences  and  arts  meet  again  in  one  point  from  which  they  all  issued — 
MAN. 

The  first  of  this  encounter  is  Philosophy  ;  to  recognize  it  makes  the 
scholar  a  learned  man.  When  he  finds  himself  at  this  point,  he  may 
determine  by  himself  the  direction  and  aim  of  his  life  with  clearness 
and  true  consciousness. 

And  thus  the  Pestalozzian  method  sets  man  forth  on  his  endless  path 
of  development  and  culture  on  the  way  to  knowledge,  bound  to  no  time 
and  no  space,  a  development  to  which  there  is  no  limit,  no  hindrance, 
no  bounds  1  A.  FROEBEL. 


GENERAL  IDEAS.—  PECULIARITIES  OF  METHOD.  273 


Law  of  Opposites  and  their  Reconcilement. 

What,  then,  is  the  process  of  the  human  mind  in  reflection  ?  The 
systematic  process,  as  it  is  the  same  for  all  minds. 

Every  thought  must  relate  to  something  that  we  know,  and  first  of 
all  to  visible  objects  ;  we  must  have  an  object  of  thought.  This  object 
of  thought  must  not  only  be  taken  in  by  the  senses  as  a  whole,  so  that 
a  general  idea  of  it  is  gained,  as  of  a  foreign  plant  that  has  been  seen 
superficially  in  a  picture,  without  the  details  of  leaves,  blossoms,  sta- 
mens, etc.  It  must  be  observed  and  studied  in  all  its  parts  and  details. 
If  we  want  to  acquire  a  thorough  knowledge  of  a  foreign  plant  we 
must  compare  all  its  properties  with  those  of  plants  known  to  us. 
When  the  properties  or  qualities  of  different  objects  are  all  exactly  the 
same  we  cannot  compare  them  ;  if  there  is  to  be  comparison,  there 
must  be  a  certain  amount  of  difference  —  but  difference,  side-by-side 
with  similarity.  The  qualities  which  are  similar  will  be  the  universal 
ones,  which  everything  possesses,  as  form,  size,  color,  material,  etc.,  for 
there  is  nothing  that  does  not  possess  these  qualities.  The  different,  or 
contrasting  qualities,  will  consist  in  variations  of  the  universal  ones  of 
form,  size,  etc.,  as  for  instance,  round  and  square,  great  and  little,  hard 
and  soft,  etc.  Such  differences  in  properties  that  have  a  general 
resemblance  are  called  opposites. 

All  such  opposites,  however,  are  at  the  same  time  connected  and 
bound  together.  The  greatest  size  that  we  can  imagine  to  ourselves  is 
connected  with  the  smallest  by  all  the  different  sizes  that  lie  between; 
the  darkest  color  with  all  the  lightest  by  all  the  intermediate  shades  ; 
from  an  angular  shape  one  can  gradually  go  over  to  a  round  one  through 
a  scries  of  modifications  of  form  ;  and  from  hard  to  soft  through  all  the 
different  gradations.  Not  that  one  and  the  same  object  can  ever  be 
both  hard  or  soft,  dark  or  light,  great  or  little,  but  the  collective  qual- 
ities of  all  existing  objects  go  over  from  their  superlative  on  the  one 
side  to  their  superlative  on  the  other,  hardest  to  softest,  darkest  to 
lightest,  and  so  on. 

The  gradations  of  great  and  little,  hard  and  soft,  etc.,  which  lie 
between  the  opposites,  are  the  connecting  links,  or,  as  Frobel  puts  it, 
"  the  means  of  reconciliation  of  opposites  "  (and  F  rebel's  system  can- 
not be  rightly  understood  unless  this  principle,  which  forms  the  basis. 
of  it,  be  acknowledged).  This  "reconciliation"  is  effected  through 
affinity  of  qualities.  Black  and  white  are  not  alike,  but  opposite  ;  the 
darkest  red,  however,  is  in  affinity  with  black,  as  the  lightest  red  is 
with  white,  and  all  the  different  gradations  of  red  connect  together  the 
opposites,  black  and  white. 

NOWT  any  one  who  has  compared  an  unknown  plant  with  known 
ones,  in  all  the  details  of  its  different  parts  —  leaf,  flower,  fruit,  etc.,  is 
in  a  position  to  pass  judgment  on  it,  and  to  draw  a  conclusion  as  to 
whether  it  belongs  to  this  or  that  known  genus  of  plants,  and  what  is 
its  species.  Thus  the  natural  process  of  thought  is  as  follows  :  percep- 
tion, observation,  comparison,  judgment  and  conclusion. 


274  SENSUAL  n»i-:.\s.-  ri:<  ri.iAi;n  n:s  OF 

\Vithout  this  series  of  preliminary  steps  no  thought  can  be  worked 
out,  and  the  ruling  principle  is  the  law  of  the  reconciliation  of  oppo- 
sites,  or  the  finding  out  the  like  and  unlike  qualities  of  things. 

It  matters  not  how  far  the  thinker  be  conscious  or  unconscious  of 
t!ie  process  going  on  in  his  mind.  The  child  is  entirely  unconscious  of 
it,  and  therefore  takes  longer  to  reach  from  one  stage  to  another.  At 
ti  ist  it  receives  only  general  impressions ;  then  perception  comes  in ; 
gradually  ideas  begin  to  shape  themselves  in  its  mind,  and  it  then 
learns  to  compare  and  distinguish ;  but  judging  and  concluding  do  not 
begin  till  the  third  or  fourth  year,  and  then  only  vaguely  and  dimly. 
Nevertheless,  the  same  systematic  process  is  at  work  as  in  the  coa- 
scious  thought  of  the  adult. 

Pestalozzi't  Fundamental  Law. 

Any  system  of  instruction  which  is  to  be  effectual  must  therefore 
take  into  account  this  law  of  thought  (or  logic);  it  must  apply  the  fun- 
damental principle  of  connecting  the  known  with  the  unknown  by  means  of 
comparison.  This  principle  is,  however,  everlastingly  sinned  against, 
and  people  talk  to  children  about  things  and  communicate  to  them 
opinions  and  thoughts  concerning  them,  of  which  children  have  no  con- 
ception and  can  form  none.  And  this  is  done  even  after  Pestalozzi  1  >y 
his  "method  of  observation  and  its  practical  application"  has  placed  in- 
struction  on  a  true  basis. 

Of  the  manner  in  which  Frobel  has  built  upon  this  foundation  we- 
shall  speak  later.  We  have  here  to  deal  first  with  education,  to  show 
how  far  it  differs  from  instruction,  and,  whether  a  systematic  or  meth- 
odical process  is  applicable  to  it,  as  Frobel  considers  it  to  be. 

When  Pestalozzi  was  endeavoring  to  construct  his  "  Fundamental 
Method  of  Instruction  "  (•«  Urform  des  Lehrens  ")  according  to  some 
definite  principle,  he  recognized  the  truth  that  the  problem  of  educa- 
tion cannot  be  fully  solved  by  any  merely  instructional  system  how- 
ever much  in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  nature.  He  saw  that  the 
moral  forces  of  the  human  soul,  feeling  and  will,  require  to  be  dealt 
with  in  a  manner  analogous  to  the  cultivation  of  the  intellectual  fa< -ill- 
ties,  that  any  merely  instructional  method  is  inadequate  to  the  t a  k, 
and  that  a  training-school  of  another  sort  is  needed  for  the  moral  side 
of  cultivation— one  in  which  the  power  of  moral  action  may  be  ac- 
quired. While  searching  for  some  such  "psychological  basis"  to  his 
method  he  exclaimed,  "  I  am  still  as  the  voice  of  one  crying  in  the 
wilderness." 

As  a  means  to  this  end  he  requires  an  A  B  C  of  the  science  and  a 
system  of  moral  exercises,  and  he  says :  "  The  culture  of  the  moral 
faculties  rests  on  the  same  organic  laws  which  are  the  foundation  of 
our  intellectual  culture." 

Fichte  (in  his  "  Discourses  ")  insists  on  an  "A  B  C  of  perception,"" 
which  is  to  precede  Pestalozzi's  "A  B  C  of  observation,"  and  speaks  as- 
follows :  "  The  new  method  must  be  able  to  shape  and  determine  its 
pupil's  course  of  life  according  to  fixed  and  infallible  rules." 


.} :UAI.   11>KAS.  -PECULIARITIES  OF  MKTIlnD.  275 

"  There  must  be  a  definite  system  of  rules  by  which  always,  without 
:>tiou,  a  linn  will  may  hi-  produced." 

The  development  of  children  into  men  and  women  must  be  brought 
under  the  laws  of  a  well-considered  system,  which  shall  never  fail  to 
accomplish  its  end,  viz.,  the  cultivation  in  them  of  a  firm  and  invaria- 
bly right  will. 

This  moral  activity,  which  has  to  be  developed  in  the  pupil,  is  with- 
out doubt  based  on  laws,  which  laws  the  agent  finds  out  for  himself  by 
direct  personal  experience,  and  the  same  holds  good  of  the  voluntary 
development  carried  on  later,  which  cannot  be  fruitful  of  good  results 
unless  based  on  the  fundamental  laws  of  nature. 

Thus  Pestalozzi  and  Fichte — like  all  thinkers  on  the  question  of  edu- 
cation— searched  for  the  laws  of  human  nature,  in  order  to  apply  these 
laws  in  the  cultivation  of  human  nature. 

Frobel  strove  to  refer  back  all  these  manifold  laws  to  one  funda- 
mental law  which  he  called  the  "  reconciliation  of  opposites  "  (of  rela- 
tive opposites). 

In  order  to  arrive  at  a  clear  and  comprehensive  conception,  where 
there  is  plurality  and  variety,  we  seek  a  point  of  unity,  in  which  all 
the  different  parts  or  laws  may  center,  and  to  which  they  may  be  re- 
ferred. For  the  undeveloped  mind  of  the  child  this  is  an  absolute 
necessity.  The  method,  which  is  to  be  the  rule  of  his  activity,  must, 
be  as  simple  and  as  single  as  possible.  This  necessity  will  be  made 
plain  when  we  come  to  the  application  of  Frbbel's  theory  in  practice. 

F rebel's  observations  of  the  human  soul  are  in  accord  with  the  gen- 
eral results  of  modern  psychology,  in  spite  of  small  deviations  which 
cannot  be  considered  important.  Science  has  not  by  a  long  way  arrived 
at  final  conclusions  on  this  subject,  and  must,  therefore,  give  its  due 
weight  to  every  reASonable  assumption  ;  it  would  be  most  unprofitable 
to  drag  Frobel's  system  into  the  judgment  hall  of  scientific  schools,  in 
order  to  decide  how  far  it  agreed  with  these  schools  or  not.  Its  impor- 
tance lies  for  the  moment  chiefly  in  its  practical  side.  In  order  to  pre- 
serve this  part  of  it  from  becoming  mechanical,  and  to  maintain  its 
vitality,  its  connection  with  the  theoretical  side  must  be  understood 
and  expounded  more  and  more  thoroughly.  With  the  advance  of  sci- 
ence Frobel's  philosophy  of  the  universe  must,  in  course  of  time  have 
its  proper  place  assigned  to  it,  and  his  educational  system,  which  is. 
grounded  on  his  philosophy,  will  be  brought  into  the  necessary  connec- 
tion with  other  scientific  discoveries. 

The  great  endeavor  of  modern  educationalists  is  to  replace  the  arti- 
ficiality and  restraint  in  which  the  purely  conventional  educational  sys- 
tems of  earlier  times  have  resulted  by  something  more  corresponding 
to  human  nature.  To  this  end  it  was  necessary  to  go  back  to  the 
ground  motives  of  all  education  whatsoever :  the  laws  of  development 
of  the  human  being.  It  was  necessary  at  the  same  time  to  determine 
the  reason  of  educational  mea>ures  in  order  to  elevate  them  into  coo.- 


276  GENERAL  IDEAS.— PECULIARITIES  OF  METHOD. 

scious,  purposeful  action.  Former  conventional  systems  of  education 
worked  only  unconsciously,  according  to  established  custom,  without 
any  deep  knowledge  of  human  nature  or  fundamental  relation  to  it. 

The  science  of  humanity  was  then  in  its  infancy,  and,  although  it 
has  since  made  great  progress,  the  knowledge  of  child  nature  is  still 
very  meager. 

The  services  rendered  by  Rousseau,  as  the  first  pioneer  of  modern 
educational  theories,  and  the  many  errors  and  eccentricities  mixed  up 
with  his  great  truths,  must  here  be  assumed  to  be  known.* 

Insufficiency  of  Pestalozzi's  Doctrine  of  Form. 

Pestalozzi,  who  carried  on  the  work  in  the  same  track,  fixed  the  ele- 
ments of  his  "Urform  des  Lelirens"  in  form,  number,  and  words,  as  the 
fundamental  conditions  of  human  mental  activity,  and  which  can  only 
be  acquired  and  gained  by  observation. 

For  instance,  every  visible  and  every  thinkable  thing  has  a  form 
which  makes  it  what  it  is.  There  are  things  of  like  and  things  of  dif- 
ferent form,  and  there  is  a  plurality  of  things  wrhich  stands  in  opposi- 
tion to  every  single  thing.  Through  the  division  of  things  arises  num- 
ber, and  the  proportions  and  relations  of  things  to  one  another.  In 
order  to  express  these  different  proportions  of  form  and  number,  we 
have  need  of  words. 

Thus  in  these  three  elements  we  have  the  most  primitive  facts  on 
which  thought  is  based.  In  every  form,  every  number,  and  every  word 
there  exist  two  connected  or  united  opposites.  In  every  form,  for  in- 
stance, we  find  the  two  opposites,  beginning  and  end,  right  and  left, 
upper  and  under,  inner  and  outer,  and  so  forth. 

With  regard  to  number,  unity  and  plurality,  as  well  as  odd  and  even 
numbers,  constitute  opposites.  Then  form  and  number  are  in  them- 
selves opposites,  for  form  has  to  do  with  the  whole,  number  with  the 
separate  parts.  But  the  word  by  which  they  are  described  reconciles 
these  opposites  by  comprehending  them  both  in  one  expression. 

Pestalozzi  has  begun  the  work  of  basing  instruction  systematically 
on  the  most  primitive  facts  and  workings  of  the  human  mind.  To 
carry  on  this  work,  and  also  to  find  the  equally  necessary  basis  for 
moral  and  practical  culture,  with  which  must  be  combined  exercises 
for  the  intellectual  powers  before  the  period  allotted  to  instruction,  is 
the  task  that  remains  ,to  be  accomplished.  Pestalozzi's  plan  and  prac- 
tical methods  are  not  altogether  sufficient  for  the  first  years  of  life. 

It  is  a  false  use  of  language  which  separates  education  from  instruc- 
tion. The  word  education,  in  its  full  meaning  of  human  culture,  as  a 
whole,  includes  instruction  as  a  part,  and  comprises  in  itself  mental, 
moral,  and  physical  development ;  but  in  its  narrower  use  it  signifies, 
more  especially,  moral  culture. 

*An  elaborate  exposition  of  Rousseau's  system,  principles  and  methods  will  be  found 
in  Barnard's  Journal  of  Education,  v.  pp.  459-486;  also  in  Barnard's  French  Pedagogy. 


GENERAL  IDEAS.— PECULIARITIES  OF  METHOD.  27? 

One  of  the  reasons  why  instruction  has  been  so  much  more  consid- 
ered and  systematized  than  the  moral  side  of  education  is,  undoubt- 
edly, that  the  former  is  in  the  hands  of  educational  and  school  author- 
ities who  possess  the  mental  training  and  capacity  necessary  for  their 
vocation.  No  one  is  allowed  to  be  a  professional  teacher  who  has  not 
proved  himself  to  possess  a  certain  degree  of  proficiency  for  the  task. 
Moral  education,  on  the  other  hand,  falls  to  the  supervision  of  the  fam- 
ily, as  the  first  and  natural  guardians  of  its  children,  and  here  neither 
the  father  nor  the  mother,  nor  any  of  the  other  sharers  in  the  work, 
are  really  fitted  for  it ;  not  one  of  them  has  received  a  special  prepara- 
tion, and  it  depends  entirely  upon  the  higher  or  lower  degree  of  general 
culture  of  the  parents,  and  their  natural  capacity  or  non-capacity  for 
their  educational  calling,  how  far  the  moral  culture  of  the  children 
will  extend. 

But  over  and  above  the  preparatory  training  of  parents  and  other 
natural  guardians — which  was  already  insisted  on  and  striven  after  by 
Pestalozzi — moral  education  will  only  then  be  placed  on  a  par  with 
intellectual  instruction  when  a  real  foundation  has  been  given  to  it  by 
the  application  of  a  fixed  system  of  rules,  such  a  foundation  as  the 
laws  of  thought  afford  for  instruction. 

'The  human  soul  is  one,  all  its  powers  and  functions  have  a  like  aim, 
and,  therefore,  feeling  and  willing — as  factors  of  moral  life — cannot  be 
developed  in  any  other  way  than  thought.  The  parts  which  make  up 
the  whole  of  education  must  be  subject  to  the  same  laws  as  the  whole, 
and  conversely  the  whole  must  be  developed  in  like  manner  as  the  parts. 

The  moral  world  is  concerned  with  two  aspects  of  things — the  good 
and  the  beautiful — while  the  understanding  has  the  discoveiy  of  truth 
for  its  object. 

Both  the  good  and  the  beautiful  have  their  roots  in  the  heart  or  the 
feelings,  and  belong  thus  to  the  inner  part  of  man — to  his  spiritual 
world.  The  power  and  habit  of  feeling  rightly  and  beautifully  consti- 
tute moral  inclination,  which  influences  the  will,  but  does  not  yet  nec- 
essarily lead  it  to  action. 

In  its  connection  with  the  outer  world  morality  appears  in  the  form 
of  action.  Through  action,  or  the  carrying  out  of  the  good  that  is 
willed,  the  character  is  formed.  The  practice  of  the  beautiful,  on  the 
other  hand,  leads  to  art  and  artistic  creation. 

Thus  education,  in  its  essentially  moral  aspect,  has  to  do  with  the 
cultivation  of  the  feelings  and  the  will.  It  need  hardly  be  said  that 
the  element  of  instruction  cannot  be  altogether  dispensed  with,  even 
in  this  department,  any  more  than  the  cultivation  of  the  intellect  can 
be  carried  on  without  a  certain  amount  of  moral  development.  In 
earliest  childhood  .the  three  different  natures  of  the  human  being  are 
fused  in  one  and  must  be  dealt  with  accordingly. 

The  good  and  the  beautiful,  like  all  other  qualities,  are  known 
through  their  opposites.  Only  by  contrast  v/ith  the  not  good,  or  bad, 


278  GENERAL  IDEAS.— PECULIARITIES  OF  METHOD. 

the  not  beautiful,  or  ugly,  are  the  good  and  the  beautiful  apprehended 
by  our  consciousness. 

As  mental  conceptions,  the  good  and  the  bad,  the  beautiful  and  the 
ugly,  the  true  and  the  untrue,  are  irreconcilable  (absolute)  opposites. 
Pure  thought,  however,  has  to  deal  with  the  absolute.  In  all  the  man- 
ifestations of  the  actual  world  everything  that  exists  is  only  relatively 
good  and  bad,  ugly  and  beautiful,  true  and  untrue ;  all  opposites  exist 
here  only  relatively.  No  human  being  is  perfectly  good  or  perfectly 
bad,  just  as  nobody  is  completely  developed  or  completely  undeveloped. 
So,  too,  no  work  of  art  is  in  an  absolute  sense  perfectly  beautiful,  or 
perfectly  ugly  —  whether  as  a  whole  or  in  its  parts. 

As,  therefore,  in  all  and  everything  belonging  to  the  human  world 
opposites  are  found  existing  together,  so,  also,  do  they  pass  over  into 
one  another  and  are  "reconciled."  Thus  everything  is  connected 
together,  and  constitutes  an  immense  chain  of  different  members. 

We  do  not  mean  to  say  that  already  in  the  actual  world  all  opposites 
are  reconciled,  all  discords  solved,  and  the  great  world-harmony  com- 
plete; but  it  is  going  on  to  completion.  This  is  the  aim  and  end  of  all 
movements,  all  life,  and  all  endeavor,  and  an  end  which  is  only  fully 
attainable  to  human  beings  by  the  cessation  of  all  self-seeking  (as  in 
Christ),  the  absorption  of  all  individuals  into  humanity;  and  this  by 
means  of  the  highest  individual  development  and  self -existence;  not 
by  transforming  the  individual  into  the  universal. 

In  the  most  fundamental  bases  of  good  and  evil  we  find  again  two 
new  opposites. 

In  whatever  form  evil  manifests  itself,  it  is  always  at  bottom  self- 
seeking  of  some  sort;  or  else  it  is  error  or  madness.  Ambition,  pride, 
avarice,  envy,  dishonesty,  murder,  hatred,  etc.,  may  always  be  traced 
back  to  self-seeking,  even  though  it  be  disguised  in  the  form  of  extrav- 
agant affection  for  others,  or  for  one  other.  So,  too,  what  we  call  dia- 
bolical is,  in  reality,  self-seeking. 

And  whatever  shape  good  may  take  it  must  be  essentially  the  expres- 
sion of  love  to  others.  A  solitary  individual  in  no  way  connected  with 
fellow-creatures  wrould  have  as  little  opportunity  for  good  as  for  evil. 

All  the  impulses  and  passions  of  a  human  being  have  for  their  object 
the  procurance  of  personal  happiness  and  well-being  and  the  avoidance 
of  personal  annoyance.  And  as  long  as  the  happiness  and  well-being 
of  others  is  not  disturbed,  nor  the  individual  himself  injured,  there  is 
nothing  to  be  said.  The  conflict  between  good  and  evil  begins  when 
the  happiness  of  an  individual  is  procured  at  the  cost  of  others  or  of 
the  community. 

True  goodness  consists,  with  rare  exceptions,  in  preferring  the  wel- 
fare of  the  many  or  of  the  whole  of  human  society,  to  personal,  ego- 
tistical advantage;  in  striving  after  an  ideal  which,  without  self-sacri- 
ficing love,  would  be  unthinkable.  Love  towards  God,  moreover,  com- 
pels love  towards  mankind.  14 


GENERAL  IDEAS.— PECULIARITIES  OF  METHOD.  279 

The  moral  battle-field  is  always  between  the  two  extremities  of  per- 
sonal and  universal  interest,  and  the  reconciliation  of  the  two  is  the 
result  aimed  at.  There  also  where  the  battle  goes  on  in  the  inner 
world  of  the  human  soul  it  is  a  question  of  personal  against  general 
interest,  or  of  the  opposition  between  the  sensual  and  the  spiritual  nat- 
ures of  the  individual.  The  object  of  man's  earthly  existence  is  to 
reconcile  the  rights  of  personality,  self-preservation  and  independence 
with  the  duties  of  necessary  devotion  and  self-sacrifice  to  society.  The 
personal  services  rendered  to  the  ivhole,  in  any  circle  of  life,  determine 
the  worth  of  the  individual  to  society,  and  moral  greatness  consists  in 
the  love  which,  going  out  beyond  the  personal,  seeks  to  embrace  the 
whole  of  God's  world — and  therewith  God  himself.  For  God  has 
herein  placed  the  destiny  of  man,  viz.,  to  expand  from  the  circle  of  in- 
dividual existence,  through  all  intermediate  circles,  to  the  great  circle 
of  humanity. 

Jn  the  world  of  the  beautiful  we  meet  with  the  same  law,  viz.,  "  the 
reconciliation  of  opposites." 

What  do  we  mean  by  the  beautiful?  That  which  is  harmonious  or 
rhythmical.  Harmony  is  the  co-operation  of  all  the  parts  of  a  whole 
towards  the  object  of  the  whole.  If  the  innermost  nature  of  beauty 
baffles  our  attempts  at  full  definition,  harmony  is,  nevertheless,  its  fun- 
damental condition. 

But  a  necessary  condition  of  harmony  is  the  balance  of  parts  tending 
in  opposite  directions. 

Beauty  of  form  (plastic  art)  depends  on  -the  opposites,  height  and 
breadth,  for  instance,  being  rightly  proportioned  or  balanced ;  on  the 
contracting  horizontal  and  perpendicular  lines  being  kept  in  balance 
by  their  connecting  lines.  In  the  circle  we  have  the  perfect  balance  of 
all  opposite  parts,  and  the  circular  line  is,  therefore,  the  line  of  beauty. 
In  architecture  the  triangle  is  the  fundamental  shape — that  is  to  say, 
two  lines  starting  from  one  point  and  running  in  opposite  directions 
are  connected  together  by  a  third  line.  And  so  forth. 

Beauty  in  the  world  of  color  is  the  harmonious  blending  together  of 
the  opposites,  light  and  shade,  by  means  of  the  scale  of  color — this  at 
least  is  the  primary  condition.  The  mixing  of  colors,  too,  consists  in 
the  right  fusion  of  the  elementary  colors — red,  blue,  yellow,  which  in 
themselves  form  opposites. 

In  the  world  of  sound  beauty  is  in  like  manner  conditioned  by  the 
harmony  of  single  tones  amongst  each  other.  The  basis  of  musical  har- 
mony is  the  simple  chord,  L  e.,  the  opposites,  which  the  key-note  and 
the  fifth  constitute,  are  reconciled  by  the  third. 

In  poetry  rhythm  is  obtained  by  the  regular  connection  of  long  and 
short  syllables  And  so  forth. 

The  ugly,  the  imperfect,  in  all  arts,  is  on  the  other  hand  the  inhar- 
monious—or the  result  of  want  of  proportion  and  correspondence  in 
opposites — or  the  absence  of  transitions  to  connect  them  together. 


RUDENPLATZ,    ZURICH.      THE   MIDDLE   HOUSE   WAS  PESTALOZZl'S 
BIRTHPLACE 


PESTALOZZI,  DE  FELLENBERG  AND  WEHRLI, 

AND    INDUSTRIAL    TRAINING. 


BY  WILLIAM    DE    FELLENBERG. 


EAKLY  in  the  year  1798,  Switzerland,  whilst  at  peace  with  the  French* 
republic,  was  invaded  by  a  numerous  French  army  on  the  most  frivolous 
pretexts.  Amongst  the  Swiss  Cantons  which  offered  the  most  energetic 
resistance  to  the  encroachments  of  the  French  Directory,  Unterwalden 
stood  in  the  first  rank.  Fearful  was  the  vengeance  of  the  enraged 
French  soldiery,  who  devastated  that  unhappy  country  with  fire  and 
sword.  The  inhabitants  who  did  not  fall  in  battle  (women  as  well  as  men 
having  shared  in  the  fight)  fled,  some  into  the  mountains,  some  into  the 
churches  ;  but  the  churches  did  not  protect  them  from  the  flames  or 
bayonets,  to  which  all  the  native  sufferers  became  a  prey  ;  the  children 
were  however  spared ;  and  crowds  of  these  homeless  orphans  were  to  be 
seen,  after  the  departure  of  the  French,  wandering  about  amidst  the 
ruins  of  the  villages.  A  wail  resounded  through  Switzerland  when  this 
was  known. 

The  first  philanthropist  who  devoted  himself  to  the  succor  of  these 
helpless  objects,  was  Henry  Pestalozzi,  then  Theological  candidate.  He 
had  just  before  broken  down  utterly  in  preaching  his  probationary  ser- 
mon— a  circumstance  which  was  a  bar  to  his  prospects  in  the  church, 
especially  at  such  a  seat  of  learning  as  Zurich.  He  did  not  know  where 
to  direct  his  steps ;  the  career  of  professional  theology  was  closed  to  him, 
but  not  that  of  Christianity.  He  converted  his  little  property  into 
money,  tied  up  his  bundle,  and  set  off  to  the  Canton  of  Unterwalden, 
there  to  become  the  guardian  of  the  poor  deserted  children.  The  season 
was  inclement,  but  he  succeeded,  with  the  help  of  some  kind-hearted 
friends,  in  forming  a  shelter  for  his  new  family,  amongst  the  ruins  of  the 
little  village  of  Hanz.  Here  Pestalozzi  fed,  clothed,  and  housed  the  gath- 
ering flock,  increasing  in  numbers  till  he  was  obliged  to  consider  how  he 
could  bring  them  under  some  kind  of  discipline  ;  but  for  this  purpose  he 
had  no  help  except  from  the  children  themselves.  He  therefore  chose 
from  amongst  them  the  most  intelligent,  taking  care  to  select  those  who 
had  most  influence  with  their  companions.  These  he  appointed  his  assist- 
ants ("lieutenants")  in  the  lessons,  as  well  as  in  the  necessary  household 
work,  such  as  keeping  the  place  in  order,  mending  clothes,  collecting, 
wood,  &c.  He  soon  added  to  these  occupations  the  cultivation  of  a  small. 

•Communicated  to  the  "  National  Association  for  the  Promotion  of  Social  Science,"  b»- 
Lady  Noel  Byron,  -and  published  in  the  "  Transactions  "  for  1858. 


•60*  FE8TAI.UZZI.  1)E  Fi:i.l.i:M5i:U<;   AM>  Ul.lli.l.l 

of  land ;  and  the   little  colony  assumed    ilu-  igped   "1  an  orderly 
community. 

In  the  meantime  patriots  from  various  parts  of  Switzerland  had  arrived 
in  Han/,  lirin^in-;  provisions  and  stores  of  all  kinds.  The  fugitive  in 
habitants  gradually  returned  from  the  mountains,  and  all  fell  into  theii 
1  inner  way  of  life.  Pestalozzi's  school  was  welcome  to  all  as  long  as  the 
children  were  fed  and  provided  for  in  it ;  but  his  funds  being  exhausted, 
and  the  aid  of  the  benevolent  being  required  for  the  returning  fugitives 
on  their  own  account,  there  were  no  means  of  maintaining  the  establish- 
ment. Thus,  to  the  great  sorrow  of  every  one,  Pestalozzi  felt  the  neces- 
sity of  separating  from  his  beloved  children.  Still  the  recollection  of  his 
Unterwalden  family,  and  of  the  kind  of  training  which  he  had  been 
driven  to  employ  from  the  failure  of  other  resources,  remained  a  living 
picture  in  his  mind.  It  gave  a  distinct  and  tangible  aim  to  his  deep  in- 
ward longing  to  serve  his  fellow  creatures ;  it  became  the  vision  of  his 
dreams,  the  object  of  all  his  plans;  and  he  caught  at  whatever  promised 
to  bring  him  nearer  to  the  desired  end.  In  consequence,  all  his  inter- 
course with  friends — for  he  found  many  after  the  events  of  Unterwal- 
den— was  dire.-ted  to  the  same  end.  To  most  of  them,  however,  he 
spoke  in  riddles,  since  they  could  not  have  understood  him  unless  they 
had  like  him  learned,  by  experience,  how  powerful  an  instrument  for 
training  the  young  is  to  be  found  in  labor  for  bread,  when  under  skillful 
management  By  all  true  philanthropists,  indeed,  the  full  value  of  Pes- 
talozzi's work  in  Unterwalden  was  recognized;  and  in  its  merits  his  un- 
successful sermon  was  forgotten.  Great  hopes  were  formed  of  the  results 
of  such  rare  self-devotion,  and  many  anticipated  that  a  new  light  on  edu- 
cation would  be  kindled  by  it.  When  he  made  known  his  project  of  an 
educational  institute,  the  government  of  the  canton  of  Berne  offered  him 
the  use  of  the  Chateau  of  Burgdorf  for  that  purpose.  He  accepted  the 
offer,  and  opened  a  school  in  that  place. 

Pestalozzi's  reputation,  founded  upon  some  striking  works  for  the 
people,  "Leonard  and  Gertrude"  with  others,  brought  him  immediately 
a  great  number  of  pupils ;  some  of  them  out  of  the  most  influential 
families,  with  whom  he  had  an  opportunity  of  putting  in  practice  one  part 
•of  his  educational  system,  called  by  himself  the  "  Anschauungs  Lehre," 
teaching  by  sight  and  other  senses.  But  his  industrial  training  could  not 
be  carried  into  effect,  because  his  pupils  were  chiefly  of  aristocratic  fam- 
ilies, and  not  obliged  to  support  themselves  by  manual  labor.  He  con- 
soled himself,  however,  with  the  hope  of  saving  enough  out  of  the  income 
•derived  from  the  school  payments  of  the  rich,  to  establish  a  small  agri- 
cultural school  for  the  poor,  on  his  own  plan,  in  connection  with  the 
institute. 

His  new  system  already  began  to  excite  public  attention.  Young  men 
of  the  teachers'  class  thronged  around  him,  and  endeavored,  with  more 
or  less  success,  to  acquire  his  method,  hoping  thereby  to  make  their  for- 
tunes in  the  novelty-loving  world ;  but  amongst  all  those  who  were  thus 
"brought  into  contact  with  him,  there  was  not  one  who  could  omprehcnd 


H  sTAl.OZZI,  I>K  FKI.I.KMiKKC;   AM)  WEHKJ.l  283 

his  irivut  idea,  that  of  making  LABOR,  more  especially  Agricultural  La- 
bor, a  principal  moans  of  training  tin-  young  ;  indeed,  had  he  found 
Mich  a  OIK-  it  could  not  have  helped  him  ;  for  in  his  fortress  there  vvas 
not  a  foot  of  ground  in  which  any  thiiiu  could  )>e  planted. 

An  opportunity  was  soon  afforded  of  carrying  out  the  aim  of  his  heart 
by  these  circumstances.  Amongst  the  acquaintances  Pestulozzi  had 
made  in  earlier  times,  during  a  journey  before  he  went  to  L'nterwalden, 
was  the  family  of  Tcharner,  of  Wilden  Stein.  Tcharner,  who  was  the 
Bernese  Landvogl,  appeared  to  Pestalozzi  to  realize  his  idea  of  what  a 
governor  ought  to  be,  such  as  he  had  drawn  in  his  most  celebrated  work, 
"  Leonard  and  Gertrude"  in  the  character  of  Arner.  Through  this  fam- 
ily he  became  acquainted  with  that  of  De  Fellenberg,  who  succeeded 
Tcharner  in  the  government  of  Wilden  Stein  ;  and  a  young  De  Fellen- 
berg became  one  of  Pestalo/./i's  most  attentive  listeners.  This  young 
man  accompanied  him  on  several  journeys,  and  was  one  of  the  few  who 
afterwards  entered  into,  and  adopted,  his  idea  of  industrial  education. 
But  it  was  a  circuitous  route  by  which  De  Fellenberg  came  to  the  reso- 
lution of  acting  out  Pestalozzi's  idea.  He  was  educated  for  a  political 
<  an  . -r,  but  his  mother's  character  had  implanted  in  him  the  germ  which 
enabled,  him  to  receive  and  comprehend  the  ideas  of  Pestalozzi.  His 
mother  used  to  say  to  him :  "  The  Rich  have  always  helpers  enough,  help 
•thon  the  Poor" 

It  was  during  the  early  days  of  the  French  Revolution  that  he  studied 
law  at  the  University  of  Tubingen,  in  <  iermany.  Returning  just  as  the 
ditliculties  of  Switzerland  with  tin-  French  were  beginning,  he  then 
heard  of  IV.Malozzi's  school  in  Unterwalden,  and  was  vividly  reminded 
of  his  former  acquaintance  with  him.  Other  circumstances  also  con- 
curred to  -rive  the  bent  to  his  mind,  which  changed  his  path  in  life  from 
that  of  a  politician  to  that  of  a  philanthropist. 

The  trenu -ndou>  war  taxes  which  the  French  Directory  exacted  from 
the  Swiss,  and  the  pressure  of  the  military  occupation  on  the  country, 
brought  Switzerland  to  the  brink  of  despair,  and  it  was  resolved  to  send 
an  embassy  consisting  of  the  leading  men  to  Paris,  in  order  to  entreat 
the  directory  to  lighten  the>c  burthens.  De  Fellenberg  accompanied  one 
of  these  amha->a-l«ir>  as  secretary;  and  what  he  then  saw  of  French 
freedom,  and  the  political  tendencies  of  that  time,  convinced  him  that  he 
must  seek  another  path.  He  returned  to  Switzerland,  more  than  ever 
determined  to  serve  his  country  in  the  spirit  which  had  been  awakened 
in  his  early  youth  by  that  saying  of  his  mother.  He  soon  afterwards 
married  the  grand-daughter  of  Tcharner,  the  before-mentioned  friend  of 
Pestalozzi,  and  was  henceforward  brought  more  into  contact  vith  him 
About  this  time  De  Fellenberg's  father,  who  was  professor  of  law  in 
Bern,  purchased  the  estate  of  Ilofwyl,  near  to  that  city,  in  order  to  give 
his  son  a  field  of  action.  Ilofwyl  is  only  nine  English  miles  distant  from 
Bwgdurf  Thus  De  Fellenberg  and  Pestalozzi  became  neighbors,  and 
this  led  to  frequent  interchange  of  thought  between  them,  in  which  PCS- 
taloz/i  endeavored  to  induce  \)  Fellenberg  to  employ  his  estate  in  real- 


284  PESTALOZZI,  UE  FELLENBERG  AND  WEHRL1. 

izing  his  favorite  idea  of  industrial  education.  Pestalozzi  had  at  that 
time  competent  teachers  for  the  promulgation  of  his  method  of  teaching.. 
Each  of  these  teachers  imagined  himself  at  least  a  younger  Pestalozzi,, 
who  owed  the  father  Pestalozzi  just  as  much  subordination  as  seemed 
good  to  themselves,  and  no  more.  Thus,  in  a  few  years  after  its  founda- 
tion, the  institute  presented  a  picture  of  anarchy ;  and  Pestalozzi  felt, 
himself  incapable,  through  diminished  practical  powers,  of  reorganizing 
it  as  was  required,  and  placing  it  on  a  firm  basis,  which  he  thought  De 
Fellenberg  could  best  accomplish. 

The  Bernese  government  possessed  a  building,  once  a  convent,  near 
Hofwyl,  called  Miinchen  Buchsee,  and  Pestalozzi  proposed  to  the  author- 
ities to  give  it  him  instead  oftBurgdorf.  He  offered  the  entire  manage- 
ment of  his  institute  to  De  Fellenberg,  and  the  government  consented. 
De  Fellenberg  made  a  stipulation  that  he  should  have  the  power  of  dig- 
missing  any  of  the  teachers  who  should  not  conform  to  his  regulations. 
Pestalozzi  agreed  to  this,  and  transplanted  his  establishment  to  Miinchen 
Buchsee,  which  is  only  ten  minutes'  walk  from  Hofwyl.  Here  De  Fel- 
lenberg had  an  opportunity  of  judging  of  Pestalozzi's  method,  and  of 
seeing  both  its  strong  and  weak  points.  He  was  also  able  to  enter  into 
IVstalo/zi's  further  schemes.  It  is  scarcely  to  be  doubted  that  the  dom- 
inant idea  of  Pestalozzi  would  have  been  then  carried  out  at  Hofwyl  un- 
der his  own  eyes,  if  the  characters  of  the  two  men  had  been  such  that 
they  could  labor  together  in  the  same  work  with  success.  But  in  their 
dnily  intercourse  it  soon  appeared,  that  Pestalozzi's  excessive  kindness  of 
ht'.'irt  led  him  to  regard  as  tyranny  a  consistent  prosecution  of  that  plan  ; 
while  De  Fellenbenr,  from  his  characteristic  energy,  bore  Pestalozzi's 
want  of  decision  impatiently,  and  treated  it  as  loss  of  time.  It  was,, 
therefore,  not  diflicult  for  Pestalozzi's  assistants  to  persuade  him  that  he- 
had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  a  tyrant,  from  who  he  should  release  himself 
at  any  cost.  He  therefore  accepted  at  once  the  offer  from  the  govern- 
ment of  the  Canton  Waadt  (Pays  de  Vaud)  to  give  up  to  him  the  Schloss 
Yverdun,  on  the  lake  of  Neuch&tel,  for  the  reception  of  his  institute ; 
and  thus  ended  the  connection  between  Pestalozzi  and  De  Fellenberg, 
without,  however,  any  personal  disagreement.  Pestalozzi  rejoiced  ex- 
tremely when,  in  ]  80(i,  De  Fellenberg  sent  one  of  his  sons  to  him  to  be 
educated,  accompanied  by  a  young  man,  as  tutor,  who  should  acquire  a. 
knowledge  of  Pestalozzi's  system. 

De  Fellenberg  meanwhile,  at  Hofwyl,  had  come  to  the  determination, 
to  begin  the  work  of  industrial  education,  and  the  only  question  with 
him  now  was,  to  find  an  able  assistant  who  could  fill  the  position  of 
"  Father  "io  his  pupils,  and  as  such  embody  his  idea.  After  having 
sought  among  a  considerable  number  of  young  men  of  the  educating 
class  in  Switzerland,  he  found  the  right  one  in  the  following  manner. 
Pestalozzi's  method  of  teaching  had  excited  great  attention  among  all 
engaged  in  education  throughout  Switzerland.  It  seemed  so  simple  to 
'lead  the  pupil  by  enlisting  his  own  will,  and  rousing  his  own  reason  to- 
assist  in  his  own  instruction,  that  every  n-flicting  teacher  could  only 


PESTALOZZL  UE  FELLENBEIIG  AM)  VVE1JK1J  285 

-wonder  why  the  idea  had  not  occurred  to  him  long  before,  as  the  num 
•ber  of  children  in  a  school  rendered  some  such  method  almost  necessary. 
Many,  therefore,  endeavored  to  apply  what  they  had  heard  of  his  sys- 
tem, apparently  so  simple,  to  the  subjects  then  taught  in  their  schools, 
reading,  writing,  the  catechism,  &c. ;  but  they  soon  found  the  task  to  be 
much  more  difficult  than  they  had  imagined.  Many,  therefore,  were 
anxious  to  study  the  Pestalozzian  method  from  Pestalozzi  himself;  but 
this  was  too  expensive  for  most  of  them.  The  pecuniary  affairs  of  the 
institute  were  so  involved  from  mismanagement,  that  Pestalozzi  could  not 
admit  any  such  supernumeraries  except  for  a  considerable  sum.  This 
led  De  Fellenberg  to  think  of  opening  a  course  of  instruction  in  the  Pes- 
talozzian method ;  on  the  one  hand,  to  offer  to  earnest  teachers  this  oppor- 
tunity of  improvement ;  on  the  other,  with  the  hope,  among  the  numbers 
who  might  assemble  at  Hofwyl,  to  find  an  assistant  for  his  own  particular 
object  He  communicated  his  scheme  to  Pestalozzi,  who  was  delighted  with 
it,  and  sent  him  a  young  man  from  Prussia  named  Zeller,  no  less  thor- 
oughly imbued  with  his  method  than  enthusiastic  in  promoting  it.  De 
Fellenberg  was  thus  able  to  open  his  course  of  instruction,  1st  May, 
1806.  For  this  purpose  he  had  a  cottage  built  in  a  little  wood,  beneath 
.great  linden  trees,  on  twelve  posts,  and  with  a  single  roof.  The  upper 
part  served  as  a  sleeping-room,  the  ground-floor  as  a  school-room.  In 
the  morning,  the  hours  from  five  to  seven,  and  from  eight  till  twelve, 
were  devoted  to  lessons.  In  the  afternoon  the  teachers  worked  in  the 
fields  and  in  the  garden  of  Hofwyl.  In  the  evening  they  prepared  the 
vegetables  for  the  next  day's  meals.  During  the  harvest  they  assisted  in 
the  fields  during  the  whole  day.  De  Fellenberg,  in  this  way,  showed 
them  how  an  industrial  school  ought  to  be  organized.  He  gave  them  also 
every  morning,  a  lesson  in  agriculture,  in  which  he  explained  the  various 
field  operations  and  their  connection.  He  conversed  with  them  on  the 
subject  of  making  agricultural  labor  a  valuable  aid  in  education,  and  a 
subject  of  instruction  for  boys.  Each  evening  he  talked  over  with  them 
the  labors  of  the  following  day.  Thus  he  led  the  teachers  to  do  their 
M'ork  with  intelligence ;  to  take  pleasure  in  it,  and  to  see  how  advanta- 
.geous  would  be  to  themselves  the  knowledge  thus  obtained  of  agricul- 
ture, as  the  means  of  making  the  soil  more  productive  during  the  rest 
of  their  life ;  for  most  teachers  in  Switzerland  depend  for  the  principal 
part  of  their  subsistence  on  a  few  acres  of  public  ground. 

All  this  instruction  was  in  accordance  with  Pestalozzi's  ideas — De  Fel- 
lenberg even  carried  them  further  than  their  originator — for  Pestalozzi 
based  his  system  on  the  perception  of  the  senses  (Anschauung,)  making 
this  the  ground  work  of  memory.  Former  systems  had  only  concerned 
themselves  with  the  memory,  and  with  matters  which  could  be  made  ob- 
jects of  perception ;  De  Fellenberg  then  went  beyond  Pestalozzi,  inas- 
much as  he  added  the  action  to  the  perception ;  ufor,"  said  he,  "what 
has  been  done,  and  done  with  thought,  will  be  retained  more  firmly  by 
the  memory,  and  will  bring  a  surer  experience  than  that  which  has  been 
only  seen  or  heard."  Earlier  schools  made  the  ear  and  words  the  subject- 


286  PESTALOZZI,  I)E  FELLENBERG  AM)  WEIIKU 

matter  of  mimo:y — Pestalozzi,  the  eye  and  picture — De  Fellenberg,  the. 
action.  Zeller,  though  versed  in  Pestalozzi's  method,  followed  De  Fel- 
lenberg's  step  in  advance  of  it,  with  the  readiness  of  one  desirous  of  im- 
provement; and  brought  his  objective  teaching,  as  far  as  possible,  into- 
relation  with  the  daily  lessons  of  the  teachers — the  effect  of  which  was- 
to  render  them  more  interesting  and  animated. 

The  teachers  who  took  part  in  these  courses  of  instruction  have  been, 
heard,  even  years  after,  to  describe  the  scene  so  vividly  that  it  seemed  as  if 
they  had  just  come  from  it ;  and  it  has  been  often  proved  that  whilst  other 
teachers,  from  want  of  knowledge  of  farming,  have  been  ruined  in  times- 
of  distress,  such  as  1816,  1817,  the  Hofwyllers,  as  they  were  called, 
struggled  out  of  their  difficulties  by  their  own  exertions. 

About  thirty  joined  in  the  first  season's  lessons.  These,  on  their  re- 
turn home,  mentioned  them  to  their  acquaintances.  The  following 
spring,  no  less  than  eighty  teachers  made  their  appearance  at  Hofwyh 
This  influx  created  difficulties  for  De  Fellenberg,  as  an  individual,  and 
caused  him  some  pecuniary  embarrassment 

In  order  to  carry  out  his  plans  he  was  obliged  to  find  different  kinds 
of  labor,  which  he  would  not,  perhaps,  otherwise  have  thought  of. 
Among  these  was  drainage,  then  effected  only  by  means  of  stones,  or 
with  wooden  pipes ;  and  as  the  Hofwyl  land  was  extremely  stony,  this- 
answered  two  purposes  at  once.  The  drainage  water  also  was  turned  to 
account,  in  watering  the  low-lying  meadows.  All  these  occupations 
again  gave  Zeller  the  opportunity  of  extending  his  object-lessons.  In- 
struction in  drawing  was  joined  with  them  ;  this  art  being  regarded  by 
De  Fellenberg  and  Zeller  as  a  connecting  link  between  perception  and 
action. 

The  second  course  was  attended  by  a  little  schoolmaster,  named. 
Wehrli,  from  the  canton  of  Thurgovie.  Although  an  elderly  man,  he 
had  set  off,  on  hearing  of  the  new  method  of  teaching,  and  traveled  orv 
foot  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  in  order  to  improve  himself  in, 
his  profession.  He  was  one  of  the  most  zealous  and  attentive  students,, 
and  endeavored  to  inform  himself  as  thoroughly  as  possibly  on  all  points, 
that  were  new  to  him.  When  De  Fellenberg,  at  times,  explained  to  the- 
teachers  how  agricultural  labor  might  be  made  a  means  of  education,  de- 
claring his  own  wish  to  establish  an  example  of  such  industrial  training,. 
if  he  could  only  find  a  capable  assistant,  it  was  always  old  Wehrli  \\  ho, 
after  the  lesson,  had  most  questions  to  ask ;  and  at  the  end  of  the  course 
he  said  that  he  had  a  son  whom  he  could  recommend  to  carry  the  plan 
into  effect.  Induced  by  his  description  of  his  son,  De  Fellenberg  invited 
him  to  Hofwyl :  and  shortly  afterwards  there  appeared  before  him  a 
youth  of  eighteen,  with  a  pleasing  expression  of  countenance,  modest 
bearing,  but  fearless  gbnce,  commissioned  by  his  father  to  inter  the  ser- 
vice of  De  Fellenberg.  Young  Jacob  Wehrli  was  not  long  in  compre- 
hending what  De  Fellenberg  required  of  him.  He  only  wished,  as  soon 
as  possible,  to  be  put  in  command  of  boys  with  whom  he  could  set  to- 
work.  De  Fellen  .\ rg  v. as  so  convinced  of  the  certainty  of  success  in- 


PESTALOZZI,  DE  FELLENBERG  AND  WEHRLI.  287 

his  undertaking,  that  he  did  not  hesitate  to  give  the  first  beggar-boy 
whom  he  found,  as  a  pupil  to  young  Wehrli.  Wehrli  was  no  less  confi- 
dent in  its  being  an  easy  task  to  change  the  most  unmanageable  of  vag- 
abonds into  an  industrious  member  of  society ;  and,  in  fact,  the  first  few 
weeks  of  kind  treatment,  not  omitting  better  food,  seemed  to  make  the 
desired  impression  which  De  Fellenberg  and  Wehrli  ascribed  to  their 
system.  This  result  was,  however,  not  a  little  attributable  to  Wehrli's 
having  shared  all  the  occupations  of  his  pupil,  so  that  when  the  boy  felt 
weary  or  idle,  he  was  ashamed  to  let  his  master,  as  he  called  Wehrlir 
work  alone.  When,  however,  after  a  few  weeks,  the  better  food  and 
kindly  treatment  were  no  longer  newT,  the  beggar-boy  began  to  long  after 
his  former  ufree  life,"  and  tried,  instead  of  working,  to  go  after  birds* 
nests,  the  eggs  of  which  had  formed  the  luxuries  of  his  former  diet;  or 
else  he  sought  out  a  snug  corner  to  sleep  in.  When  Wehrli  said  to  himr 
"  Those  who  will  not  work  shall  not  eat,"  he  took  up  his  tools  again,  it 
is  true,  but  as  his  thoughts  were  not  in  his  work,  his  labor  was  worth 
nothing,  and  Wehrli  saw  that  he  should  not  attain  his  purpose  in  that 
way.  So  it  was  necessary  that  the  boy  should  experience  the  conse- 
quence of  his  idleness,  and  go  to  bed  one  evening  without  his  food. 
"What,"  thought  he,  "I  am  deprived  of  my  liberty,  and  must  hunger 
into  the  bargain?"  and  the  next  morning,  very  early,  he  took  his  depart- 
ure. Thus  Wehrli  had  now  no  pupil.  De  Fellenberg  himself  was  as- , 
tonished  that  the  beggar-boy  had  not  known  better  how  to  appreciate  his 
kindness,  and  he  then  made  a  fresh  experiment  with  the  son  of  an  in- 
dustrious laborer,  who,  burthened  with  a  large  family,  was  glad  of  the 
opportunity  of  providing  for  one  of  his  children.  He  was  a  weakly  boy, 
but  willing  and  anxious  to  learn,  and  gave  Wehrli  more  satisfaction.  It 
was  riot  so  wonderful  that  a  child  out  of  a  laborer's  family,  should  be 
trained  to  industry.  Still  it  was  attended  with  much  trouble  to  accus- 
tom the  boy,  somewhat  enfeebled  by  his  mother's  care,  to  field-labor. 
De  Fellenberg  had  said  that  they  would  not  take  a  second  boy  till  the 
first  was  in  good  order,  that  the  example  of  the  one  might  influence  the 
other.  The  prospect  of  such  a  result  with  this  weakly  boy  was  unfavor- 
able, and  Wehrli  found  that  he  should  have  to  go  through  the  whole 
winter  with  but  one  pupil.  At  the  beginning  of  the  cold  days,  however, 
our  young  friend,  the  beggar-boy,  made  his  appearance,  and  promised,  if 
he  were  received  back,  to  work  hard  for  his  bread.  It  really  seemed  as 
if  the  young  vagabond  had  instituted  some  comparisons  between  his 
"free  life"  and  Eofwyl  training,  to  the  advantage  of  the  latter.  The 
two  new  comrades  soon  strove  which  should  do  his  work  best — a  contest 
in  which  the  beggar-boy  soon  gained  the  upper  hand,  and  took  the  posi- 
tion of  teacher,  as  he  displayed  much  more  skill  and  aptitude  than  the 
other.  This  satisfied  his  ambition,  and  Wehrli  took  care  not  to  weaken 
this  first  germ  of  civilization  in  him,  but  rather  endeavored  to  convince 
De  Fellenberg  that  they  might  now  receive  a  third  boy ;  as  he  had  a 
strong  and  intelligent  assistant  in  the  beggar-boy,  and  could,  at  least,  de- 
pend on  the  good  will  of  the  other  lad.  Soon  there  followed  a  third  and 


288  FESTALozzr,  DE  FELLENBERG  AND  WEHRLI. 

a  fourth  ;  but  care  was  taken  not  to  increase  the  vagrant  element,  till  the 
inner  strength  of  the  little  family  might  make  it  safe  to  do  so. 

This  was  the  commencement  of  the  agricultural  school  for  the  poor  at 
Hofwyl,  in  which  the  OBJECTIVE  TEACHING  of  Pestalozzi  was  brought  into 
action  in  concurrence  with  labor.  When  the  pupils  reached  ten  in  num- 
ber Wehrli  was  able  to  promote  some  of  them  to  be  his  assistants;  not 
so  much  in  school-teaching,  as  in  the  direction  of  work,  arranging  that 
each  older  pupil  should  take  charge  of  a  younger  one,  as  an  apprentice. 
Such  was  the  type  of  the  ultimate  development  of  the  school ;  just  as  in 
a  well-ordered  family  the  elder  children  lead  on  the  younger  ones  by 
their  example. 

Agricultural  labors  offer  a  richer  field  for  this  purpose  than  any  other 
employment.  Every  sort  of  capacity  is  brought  into  action.  Each 
member  of  the  family  performs  his  part  of  the  common  labor,  and  en- 
joys the  elevating  consciousness  of  being  useful  to  the  community.  In 
striving  to  fill  his  position  well,  he  learns  to  act  from  a  sense  of  duty,  and 
strengthens  this  virtue  by  practice.  De  Fellenberg's  pupils,  however, 
weiv  not  confined  to  agricultural  labor ;  the  requirements  of  his  farm,  and 
afterwards  of  his  educational  establishment  for  the  upper  classes,  gave 
employment  to  various  artizans,  as  cart  makers,  carpenters,  joiners,  black- 
smiths, locksmiths,  workers  in  wood,  iron,  leather,  mechanics,  shoe- 
makers, tailors.  Therefore,  the  pupils  of  the  lower  school,  if  they 
wished  to  learn  a  handicraft,  had  a  wide  choice  open  to  them,  without 
being  obliged,  during  their  apprenticeship,  to  neglect  the  instruction  from 
books  in  which  they  had  become  interested. 

Wrhrli's  school,  gradually  increasing  from  a  small  family  circle  to  a 
youthful  community,  reached  the  number  of  150  pupils,  without  dimin- 
ishing in  moral  strength  or  intellectual  energy.  Amongst  these  a  con- 
siderable number  were  trained  to  become  teachers  in  national  schools, 
and  superintendents  of  similar  establishments;  such  as  are  now  to  be 
found  in  most  of  the  cantons  of  Switzerland,  in  many  German  states,  in 
France,  in  the  Netherlands,  in  Italy,  and  elsewhere.  The  greatest  ser- 
vice rendered  by  the  system  of  industrial  training,  in  schools  modeled 
after  Wehrlfs,  has  been  in  those  devoted  to  rescuing  juvenile  offenders 
from  the  path  of  ruin,  and  restoring  them  to  society.  Up  to  the  p'  sent 
time,  the  Rettungs  Haus,  at  Bachtele,  near  Berne,  in  Switzerlaix  is  one 
of  the  best  institutions  of  this  nature,  and  Dr.  Wichern,  the  founder 
of  the  Rauhen  Haus,  near  Hamburg,  and  De  Metz,  founder  of  the  Colo- 
nie  Penitentiare,  at  Mettrai,  in  France,  have  employed  this  system, 
&s  the  only  effectual  mode  of  reclaiming  the  most  abandoned  juvenile 
•delinquents. 

We  must  not  omit  to  mention  here  an  observation,  confirmed  by  facts, 
that  wherever  such  schools  have  been  established  with  success,  they  have 
always,  as  in  the  case  of  Wehrli's,  at  Hofwyl,  arisen  out  of  the  small 
family  principle  gradually  extended.  There  have  not  been  wanting  at- 
tempts to  organize  such  schools  on  a  gigantic  scale,  but  few  of  these 
Tiave  proved  themselves  strong  enough  to  live.  It  has  always  been  de- 


PESTALOZZI,   DE  FEI.LENBEKG   AND  WEII11U.  289 

xnonstrated  that  it  is  not  the  system  that  can  give  life,  but  the  spirit ;  the 
strength,  love,  and  faith  of  the  founder;  and  all  these  will  naturally  in- 
crease from  the  smallest  germ,  and  become  strong  by  exercise.  This  was 
proved,  too,  in  Hofwyl  itself,  for  when  after  forty  years'  exertions,  Wehrli 
was  recalled  to  his  native  canton  of  Thurgovie,  to  conduct  there  an  in- 
stitution for  the  education  of  teachers,  after  the  model  of  Hofwyl,  De 
Fellenberg  sought  his  successor  from  amongst  the  numerous  teachers  of 
the  lower  school ;  but  not  one  of  the  chosen  "step-fathers"  could  take 
Wehrli's  place.  The  school  lost  with  him  its  peculiar  vitality,  and  it 
would  have  been  better  to  have  begun  it  afresh.  De  Fellenberg  had  felt 
from  the  first  the  true  position  of  the  wealthy  in  relation  to  the  poorer 
classes,  and  that  it  would  be  only  half  doing  his  work  in  the  world,  if  he 
merely  showed  what  treasures  existed  in  the  working  classes  to  be 
drawn  forth.  The  rich  must  be  taught,  at  the  same  time,  by  what  means 
they  could  succeed  in  extracting  those  treasures.  Witnesses  were 
wanted  out  of  the  upper  classes  to  the  educational  elevation  of  the  labor- 
ing classes — witnesses  who  might  afterwards  carry  forward  his  work. 
About  the  time  at  which  he  made  his  first  experiment  in  industrial  train- 
ing, he  began  an  agricultural  course  for  landowners.  The  success  of 
his  plan  of  deep-soil  ploughing,  draining,  and  irrigation,  upon  the  for- 
merly somewhat  neglected  ground  of  his  estate,  was  much  approved,  and 
brought  him  a  large  number  of  pupils,  many  of  whom  also  took  an  inter- 
est in  his  education  of  the  poor.  But  these  young  men  remained  so 
short  a  time  under  his  direction,  that  he  could  not  anticipate  the  exten- 
sion of  his  views  in  a  wider  circle  through  them.  He  therefore  opened, 
in  1809,  his  educational  institute  for  the  upper  classes,  of  the  same  kind 
as  that  which  Pestalozzi  conducted  at  Iverdun — afterwards  extensively 
known — and  he  here  made  use  of  the  experience  which  Pestaloz/i  had 
gained  during  many  years  with  his  objective  lessons. 

In  working  out  his  method,  Pestalozzi  had  arrived  at  a  somewhat  one- 
sided system  of  instruction,  founding  all  on  his  pupil's  own  perceptions. 
He  excluded  traditions  far  too  much,  so  that  it  was  said  of  him  that  the 
whole  past  of  human  cultivation  was  lost  to  his  pupils — as,  for  instance, 
history.  De  Fellenberg  endeavored  to  avoid  this  one-sidedness  in  his 
school,  by  giving  the  study  of  history  its  place,  adapting  it  with  care  to 
the  young.  On  the  other  hand,  he  strove  by  every  means  to  afford  to 
the  pupils  of  his  higher  school  a  field  for  the  development  of  their  pow- 
ers of  action.  He  introduced  extensive  gymnastics,  including  military 
exercises,  swimming,  riding,  pedestrian  exercises,  turning,  and  similar 
mechanical  occupations,  gardening,  and  skating.  At  the  same  time, 
under  the  guidance  of  a  special  master,  the  boys  formed  a  kind  of  inde- 
pendent community  amongst  themselves,  for  the  management  of  their 
own  affairs  out  of  school-hours ;  arranging  their  various  occupations,  as 
well  as  games  of  all  kinds,  their  walking  tours,  gardening,  &c.  They 
•chose  their  own  officers,  punished  casual  offenders,  and  thus  practiced 
obedience  to  self-imposed  law.  In  this  manner  De  Fellenberg  strove, 
nvith  these  pupils  also,  to  promote  action  and  the  discipline  of  life,  as  the 


£90  PE8TALOZZI,  UE  FELLENBERG  AND  WEHRLI. 

actual  means  of  education  ;  and  to  lay  the  foundation  of  self-reliance  in 
the  man  by  the  cultivation  of  self-government,  and  various  capabilities 
in  the  hoy  and  youth,  so  that  in  the  upper  school  also,  the  prominent 
feature  was  education  ly  action,  which  coincided  with  the  industrial 
training  of  the  lower  or  poor  school. 

The  two  institutions  were  brought  into  contact  in  many  ways.  Pupils 
of  the  upper  school  who  required  physical  strengthening,  or  muscular 
exhaustion,  so  to  speak,  as  was  the  case  with  many,  were  sent  for  a  time 
to  field-labor  in  the  lower  school.  In  both  cases,  labor  acted  as  a  whole-' 
some  medicine,  whilst  the  boys  themselves  regarded  getting  up  at  three 
in  the  morning  to  earn  a  breakfast  with  a  thrashing  flail  as  one  of  their 
greatest  pleasures.  Many  amusements  were  shared  by  both  schools — for 
instance,  skating  and  sledging  in  winter,  and  gymnastic  games  in  sum- 
mer. The  sons  of  the  wealthy  learnt  from  pupils  of  the  lower  school  to 
respect  labor,  whilst  the  poor  viewed  their  richer  companions  not  as  ene- 
mies but  as  sympathizing  friends.  The  pupils  of  the  upper  school  kept 
a  poor-box,  into  which  were  paid  all  the  small  fines,  and  the  voluntary 
contributions  of  the  boys  also,  on  Sundays,  after  the  religious  services. 
These  funds  afforded  them  the  means  of  helping  the  sick  and  infirm  peo 
pie  whom  they  met  with  in  their  visits  to  the  poor  families  round  HofwyL 
Such  visits  were  usually  made  on  Sunday  afternoons.  Thus  also  was 
Sunday  sanctified,  not  by  words  only,  but  by  deeds. 

In  order  to  awaken  yet  more  sympathy  in  the  sons  of  the  rich  for  the 
education  of  the  poor,  a  little  colony  from  the  lower  school  was  at  one 
time  established  in  a  wood,  about  six  miles  from  Hofwyl,  on  an  inclosure 
of  about  twelve  acres.  The  walls  of  the  dwellings  were  of  clay,  and 
were  the  work  of  the  pupils  of  the  upper  school.  The  doors,  windows,, 
floor,  ceilings,  partitions,  beds,  tables,  chairs,  and  cupboards,  were  made 
by  the  young  carpenters  of  both  schools ;  and  it  was  a  common  festival 
for  all  when  the  first  four  pupils,  with  their  teacher,  were  established  in  the 
new  colony,  on  which  occasion  the  chief  enjoyment  consisted  in  this,  that 
both  schools  joined  in  digging  and  in  preparing  for  planting  the  piece  of 
ground  destined  for  a  garden.  For  several  years,  one  of  the  most  favor- 
ite Sunday  walks  was  to  visit  the  new  colony  and  observe  its  progress. 

Thus  it  was  that  the  practical  working,  as  well  as  the  theory,  of  agri- 
cultural poor  schools  was  carried  by  Uofwyl  pupils  into  distant  countries ; 
and  thus,  too,  the  boys  of  the  upper  school  took  away  with  them  more 
correct  notions  of  active  beneficence,  as  well  as  of  the  duties  which  prop- 
erty imposes  upon  its  possessor. 

This  education  earned  much  approbation  from  the  public,  and  the 
number  of  pupils  increased  in  a  short  time.  Their  payments  enabled 
De  Fellenberg  to  extend  the  Poor  School,  which  we  before  mentioned. 
It  also  made  it  possible  for  him  to  give  several  "courses"  for  the  benefit 
of  earnest  teachers ;  and  amongst  them  he  discovered  young  men  who 
attached  themselves,  willingly  and  efficiently,  to  his  work  of  training  the 
poor,  assisting  him  to  spread  it  abroad. 

Among  the  many  strangers  who  visited  Hofwyl,  some,  who  were  not 


PESTA1.0ZZI,  DE  FELI.ENiiERG  AND  WEI1RL1.  291 

satisfied  with  seeing  what  was  done  there,  inquired  into  the  possibility 
of  founding  similar  institutions  in  their  own  homes.  Then  it  always  ap- 
peared necessary,  as  a  first  condition,  to  have  a  Wehrli ;  and  De  Fellen- 
berg  perceived  that,  if  all  these  good  intentions  should  be  carried  into 
effect,  he  must  consider  how  he  could  procure  more  than  Wehrli. 
He  was  now  able  to  make  use  of  those  young  men  whom  he  had 
found  qualified,  in  the  course  of  his  classes,  for  teachers,  and  without 
whom  it  would  have  been  impossible  for  him  to  extend  his  system  thus 
widely  in  so  short  a  time.  For  however  simple  at  first  sight  the  idea 
might  appear,  that  the  same  means  which  renders  the  individual  capable 
of  self-support — namely,  his  development  as  a  worker,  should  be  made 
the  chief  agent  in  his  education — nevertheless,  such  simple  ideas  are  only 
suggested  by  that  common  sense  which  Diogenes  sought  with  a  lantern 
in  broad  daylight.  To  carry  them  out  into  practice  requires  a  self-denial 
and  devotion,  which  is  the  fruit  of  a  long  exercise  of  Christian  virtues. 

Pestalozzi's  original  ideal  was  thus  realized  in  Hofwyl.  He  had 
practiced  his  method  of  instruction  at  Iverdun,  at  first  with  great  suc- 
cess ;  but  here,  again,  his  want  of  capacity  for  management  stood  in 
his  way. 

We  are  far,  however,  from  wishing  to  depreciate,  in  the  smallest  de- 
gree, the  great  service  which  he  rendered  in  the  furtherance  of  true- 
popular  education.  If  his  objective  system  did  not  entirely  develop  in- 
dustrial training,  it  may  at  least  be  considered  as  having  given  the  first 
impulse  in  that  direction.  What  must  above  all  be  regarded  in  all  he  did 
is  his  inexhaustible  love  for  the  young,  to  express  which,  he  could 
scarcely  find  words.  It  inspired  every  one  with  whom  he  came  in  con- 
tact, and  became  the  distinguishing  characteristic  of  his  true  disciples.  If' 
his  system  embraced  but  few  subjects  of  teaching,  its  deficiencies  were 
compensated  for  by  the  intensity  with  which  it  acted  upon  such  as  could: 
be  brought  within  its  sphere. 

Pestalozzi's  simple  motto  was,  "  Nothing  can  be  learned  except  through , 
comparison  of  the  unknown  with  the  known;"  and,  again,  "Every  thing 
is  contained  in  the  child ;  the  teacher  must  know  how  to  draw  it  out  by 
love  and  patience :  love  can  always  find  means."  To  teachers  he  often/ 
said,  4'Go,  and  learn  of  the  mother." 

The  young,  according  to  his  view,  could  only  know  by  the  physical 
perception  which  requires  repeated  exercise  to  advance  to  mental  percep- 
tion. What  the  eye  sees  must  be  thoroughly  comprehended  by  means 
of  feeling,  hearing,  smelling,  tasting,  in  order  that  the  verbal  description 
of  the  object  and  its  properties  may  be  perfectly  understood.  Then  the 
teacher  proceeded  to  numbers  and  measures,  and  lastly  drawing  came  m 
to  complete  the  external  image. 

From  this  short  sketch  of  the  course  pursued  by  Pestalozzi's  method, 
of  objective  teaching,  it  will  be  seen  that  it  was  especially  calculated  to, 
qualify  and  prepare  its  scholars  for  the  study  of  natural  science ;  and  it 
is  evident  that  in  agriculture  lay  the  richest  mine  for  the  practice  of 
objective  teaching.  As  a  farther  development  of  his  system,  PestalozzL 


PESTALOZZI,  DE  FELLKNliEKG  AND  WE11RL1. 

could  not  fail  to  look  with  satisfaction  on  De  Fellenberg's  agricultural 
school  at  Hofwyl.  If  we  cast  a  glance  at  the  studies  of  the  naturalist — 
as  widely  comprehensive  as  they  are  deep  and  searching — and  upon  their 
manifold  uses  in  common  life,  we  can  scarcely  fail  to  acknowledge,  with 
gratitude,  in  Pestalozzi's  system  one  of  the  influences  which  have  helped 
to  promote  and  facilitate  scientific  pursuits. 

De  Fellenberg  pursued  his  work  at  Hofwyl,  in  the  manner  before 
described,  till  the  year  1844.  We  have  mentioned  how  offshoots  of  his 
work  for  educating  the  poor  were  formed  with  success  in  most  of  the 
cantons  of  Switzerland,  and  the  adjoining  countries ;  and  he  could  look 
upon  his  life  with  the  consciousness  of  having  begun  a  work  that  would 
advance  and  develop  itself  through  the  inherent  truth  of  the  principle 
which  it  represented. 

It  is  very  significant  of  the  effect  produced  by  the  efforts  of  Pestalozzi 
and  De  Fellenberg,  that  when,  in  1844,  the  erection  of  a  national  monu- 
ment to  Pestalozzi  was  talked  of,  and  men  of  all  ranks  met  to  consider 
the  subject,  it  was  agreed,  without  opposition  from  any  quarter,  to 
abandon  the  idea  of  a  stone  or  bronze  statue,  and  raise  instead  of  it,  a 
living  memorial  to  the  father  of  Swiss  education,  consisting  of  an  insti- 
tution for  the  training  of  poor  children  of  both  sexes,  in  accordance 
with  his  ideas,  and  after  the  model  of  Wehrli's  school  at  Hofwyl. 
This  monument  is  still  flourishing,  and  will  be  a  blessing  to  corning 
generations, 

De  Fellenberg's  institutions  at  Hofwyl  did  not  escape  the  fate  of  all 
human  affairs.  He  died  in  1844.  The  political  events  of  1845-48  caused 
a  dissolution  of  his  schools  at  the  moment;  but  his  system  was  too 
firmly  established  in  Switzerland,  by  means  of  numerous  training  and 
other  schools,  to  be  effected  by  the  continuance  or  discontinuance  of  Hof- 
wyl. That  which  he  sought  to  accomplish  by  means  of  his  schools  was 
achieved  : — 1.  Switzerland  had  obtained  a  system  of  popular  education, 
having  its  foundation  in  the  wants  of  the  nation,  and  which  it  could 
henceforth  develop  independently,  as  there  was  scarcely  a  place  of  any 
importance  in  the  country  where  there  was  not  a  pupil,  either  of  Pesta- 
lozzi or  De  Fellenberg,  to  take  an  active  interest  in  the  schools.  2.  The 
idea  of  training  by  action,  by  productive  and  civilizing  labor,  had  ad- 
vanced from  theory  into  practice.  The  same  means  which  are  pointed 
out  to  man  for  his  material  support  were  now  brought  to  serve  as  an 
effective  instrument  in  his  education  ;  and,  as  the  great  mass  of  man- 
kind are  destined  to  maintain  themselves  by  labor,  the  most  effective 
means  of  civilizing  and  educating  this  large  majority  was  thus  discov- 
ered in  labor.  The  chief  point  which  remained  to  be  considered  was, 
how  the  leading  classes  of  society,  the  employers,  could  be  trained  to 
recognize  their  duty,  to  educate  and  elevate  morally  the  working  classes, 
with  the  same  interest  with  which  they  make  use  of  hired  labor  to  in- 
crease their  own  property.  De  Fellenberg  indicated  the  way  to  this  end 
also,  and  made  the  first  step  by  the  establishment  of  his  educational 
institution,  described  above,  for  the  higher  classes. 


JOHANNES  NIEDERER. 

JOHANNES  NIEDERER,  whose  reputation  as  a  teacher  is  nearly  con- 
nected with  that  of  Pestalozzi,  and  stands  high  amongst  those  of  his 
fellow-laborers,  was  born  in  1778,  in  Appenzell.  Having  completed 
his  studies,  he  was  already  settled  as  pastor  when  the  fame  of  Pes- 
talozzi's  plans  and  labors  reached  him,  and  set  his  whole  soul  in 
motion.  Unlike  those  who  can  not  soon  enough  shake  the  dust  of 
the  school  from  their  feet  to  seat  themselves  in  the  pulpit,  Niederer 
resigned  his  pastorate  in  1800,  and  hastened  to  connect  himself  with 
Pestalozzi.  In  the  institution  of  the  latter,  he  had  special  charge  of 
the  religious  instruction.  His  manner  in  giving  this,  and  in  his  whole 
labors  as  a  teacher,  is  so  well  described  by  his  efficient  fellow-laborer, 
Kriisi,  in  his  recent  u  Recollections  of  my  pedagogical  life  and  work? 
(Erinnerungen  aus  meinem  pddagogischen  Leben  und  Wirkeri,)  p.  39, 
that  we  shall  make  an  extract :  Kriisi  says,  "  To  be  present  at  the 
religious  instruction  of  Niederer,  and  at  his  confirmations,  was  sure 
to  have  a  good  influence  upon  the  heart.  Good  preparatory  instruc- 
tion in  intellect  and  language  was  necessary,  in  order  to  appreciate  it, 
it  is  true ;  but  this  was  to  be  enjoyed  in  the  institution.  Although 
he  soon  passed  over  the  history  of  creation,  the  gospel  of  John,  and 
the  sermon  on  the  mount,  yet  the  instruction  he  derived  from  these 
sources  as  to  the  faith,  had  a  complete  character,  and  afforded  deep 
views  of  the  essence  of  religion  and  of  the  scope  of  human  duty.  I 
several  times  attended  the  whole  course  ;  and  how  highly  I  valued 
the  privilege  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that  I  forthwith  sent 
three  of  my  children  to  attend,  that  they  might  learn  from  him  the 
happiness  of  religion.  Niederer  filled  an  important  part  in  Pestal- 
ozzi's  institution  and  history.  He  earnestly  devoted  his  time  and 
strength  to  the  subjects  of  religion,  language,  literature,  and  philos- 
ophy. He  first  studied  Pestalozzi's  works,  in  their  various  applica- 
tions to  pedagogy,  politics,  legislation,  <fec.,  not  resting  until  he  had 
ascertained  the  central  point  from  which  they  all  radiate ;  for  to  con- 
sider them  only  in  their  separate  character,  was  insufficient  for  him 
as  a  thinker  and  investigator.  But  he  did  not  limit  his  labors  to 
writings  and  thinking  only,  nor  even  to  the  numerous  studies  success- 
fully pursued  in  the  institution,  and  the  labors  to  be  pursued  in  vari- 
ous directions,  and  amongst  various  materials,  with  reference  to  those 


294  JOHANNES  N1EDERER. 

studies  ;  but  embraced,  in  the  scope  of  his  inquiries,  the  nature,  exist- 
ence, powers,  and  weaknesses  of  man  ;  his  course  of  development,  his 
future  fate  and  destiny,  in  the  individual,  the  nation,  and  the  race. 

Niederer  possessed  the  fullest  confidence  of  Pestalozzi,  who  con- 
sulted him  on  all  occasions,  and  saved  himself  by  his  means  from 
many  mistakes.  Niederer  opposed  himself  to  any  views  or  efforts 
within  the  institution  which  threatened  to  break  up  or  hamper  its 
usefulness,  and  was  variously  active  in  contending  against  them. 

In  literature,  Niederer  has  been  less  active  than  was  to  be  wished 
from  a  man  so  rich  in  endowments  and  experience.  Besides  a  series 
of  small  treatises,  we  have  only  one  larger  work:  " Pestalozzi'' *s  ed- 
ucational enterprise  in  its  relations  to  cotemporary  civilization" 
(Pestalozzi"1  s  Erziehungsuntcrnehmung  im  Verhaltniss  zur  Zeitcul- 
tur,)  Stuttgart,  1812,  2  vols.  The  wish  was  often,  and  with  good 
reason,  expressed,  that  he  would  publish  a  scientific  exposition  of 
pedagogy  on  Pestalozzi's  principles.  A  biography  of  the  great 
teacher  himself,  from  his  pen,  would  have  been  gratefully  received. 
Still  more  welcome,  had  it  pleased  him  to  write  it,  would  have  been 
an  account  of  his  method  of  religious  instruction  ;  especially  now, 
when  so  many  are  endeavoring  to  fix  that  most  important  of  all  de- 
partments of  instruction  upon  a  half-ascertained  psychological  basis, 
and  to  entangle  it  with  religious  parties.  He  however  died,  in  1843, 
without  having  performed  this  work. 

Niederer's  wife,  previously  Rosette  Kasthofer,  of  Berlin,  where  she 
was  born,  3rd  November,  1779,  conducted  fora  long  time  the  girls' 
school  established  by  Pestalozzi  at  Yverdun,  along  with  his  boys' 
sdi.x.l.  The  institution  was,  however,  transferred  to  Geneva,  where 
it  is  now  established.  Madame  Niederer  has  also  established,  in  con- 
nection with  it,  a  seminary  for  young  women  intending  to  become 
teachers  ;  and  in  both  she  is  yet  laboring,  with  youthful  freshness  and 
enthusiasm.  In  1828,  was  published  a  valuable  work  by  her  :  "  Glan- 
ces at  the  system  of  female  education.  For  educated  mothers  and 
daughters"  (Blicke  in  dan  Wesen  der  weiblichen  Erziehung.  Fur 
gebildete  Mutter  und  Tochter.)  Berlin  :  Riicker.  She  has  also  pub- 
lished "  Dramatic  Games  for  the  Young]**  (Dramatische  Jugend- 
spiele.)  Aarau,  1838,  2  vols. 

We  find  the  following  estimate  of  Niederer,  bv  Pestalozzi,  ex- 
pressed at  different  times. 

"The  mode  in  which  Niederer  looks  at  my  work  can  not  be  sep- 
arated from  that  in  which  I  myself  see  it.  His  views  are  almost  all 
the  results  of  his  reflections.  I  scarcely  know  what  it  is  to  reflect. 
My  opinions  and  views  are  almost  all  the  results  of  immediate  intui- 
tion and  of  excited  feelings.  Moreover,  I  .did  not  understand  his 


JOHANNES  N1EDERER.  295 

but  his  Vindication  taught  me  to  understand  it.  I  could 
not  satisfy  myself  with  reading  that  production.  I  found  myself,  in 
it,  almost  in  every  line,  more  clearly  and  distinctly  stated,  and  more 
profoundly  comprehended,  than  I  had  comprehended  and  expressed 
myself,  on  systems  of  education,  on  maternal  instinct,  on  the  nature 
and  organization  of  schools,  on  my  institution,  in  short,  on  all  the 
principles  and  views  which  were  in  point  at  the  time." — Fortunes  of 
My  Life. 

"  He  has,  at  the  same  time,  peculiarities  which  I  often  endure  only 
with  difficulty,  since  they  are  diametrically  opposed  to  mine.  But 
his  friendship  surpasses  all  the  friendship  that  I  have  enjoyed  or  even  . 
dreamed  of  in  my  life.  What  more  can  a  man  do  for  a  friend,  than 
for  his  sake  to  give  up  a  certain,  quiet,  and  agreeable  mode  of  living, 
and  to  put  himself  into  a  condition  uncertain,  unpleasant,  oppressive, 
and  in  many  respects  dangerous  ?  This  Niederer  has  done.  For  my 
sake  he  gave  up  the  pastorate  where  he  was  living,  efficient,  respected, 
and  happy,  joined  himself  to  me  and  my  poverty,  threw  himself  into 
all  my  embarrassments,  at  a  period  when  my  work  was  not  yet  ripe 
in  itself,  and  when  I  was  almost  wholly  deprived  of  all  external  aid 
and  co-operation  in  it.  At  that  time  he  was  the  only  man  of  any 
degree  of  literary  cultivation  who  took  a  place  at  my  side,  and  took 
part  in  all  the  perils  to  which  my  undertaking  could  and  did  expose 
him.  And  his  friendship  extended  beyond  me  personally,  and  to  the 
purpose  of  my  life,  in  regard  to  which  I  so  often  saw  myself  deserted. 
He  is  drawn  toward  me  personally  as  little  as  I  toward  him.  I  might 
say  that,  in  this  respect,  we  were  not  as  near  each  other  as  is  to  be 
expected  from  men  living  so  near ;  but  his  life  is  a  friendship :  his 
endurance  and  perseverance  for  my  objects — even  the  contest  which 
he  continually  keeps  up  with  himself  and  with  me,  for  the  promotion 
of  the  purpose  of  my  life — even  his  opposition  to  and  arguments 
against  me  individually,  when  he  finds  himself  in  conflict  with  my 
designs — show  the  noble,  remarkable,  and  pure  character  of  his 
friendship.  If  he  withstood  me  less,  he  would  love  me  less." — Dec- 
laration Against  Canon  BreniVs  Questions,  p.  28. 

"As  early  as  at  the  begininng  of  our  association  in  Burgdorf,  there 
came  amongst  us  a  young  clergyman,  of  thorough  education,  full  of 
fire,  power,  and  quiet  though  strong  efficiency,  and  observed  in  silence 
the  course  of  our  labors.  In  this  first  stage  of  his  design,  he  resem- 
bled nothing  less  than  one  seeking  a  predominant  influence  upon  the 
general  and  practical  course  of  our  undertaking.  On  the  contrary, 
his  whole  conduct  indicated,  at  the  beginning,  very  clearly,  that  he 
was  investigating  the  psychological  basis  of  the  principles  and  essence 
of  our  idea  of  elementary  training,  more  seriously,  broadly,  and 


'-'-"'  JOHANNES  NIEDERER. 

deeply  than  any  one  before  him,  by  means  of  a  free,  individualized, 
and  independent  reflection  upon  them.     By  this  course  he  very  soon 
elaborated  a  system  of  his  own,  as  to  our  idea  of  elementary  training, 
which,  it  is  true,  was  not  made  inwardly  complete  and  outwardly  ap- 
plicable by  any  basis  whatever  of    practical  experience,  but  which 
inspired  him  with  such  a  visionary  enthusiasm  for  its  infallibility  and 
applicableness,  that  all  at  once  he  suddenly  began  to  take  an  active 
and  powerful  part  in  the  whole  extent  of  our  operations :  so  as  grad- 
ually to  acquire  a  universal  and  predominating  influence  over  them, 
and  to  gain  my  own  confidence  to  a  high  degree.     His  singular  char- 
acter inspired  him  with  the  definite  design  of  opposing  the  weaknesses, 
faults,  and  defects  of  my  establishment,  by  means  of  scientific  expo- 
sitions of  the  idea  which  lay  at  the  base  of  our  undertakings.     He 
believed  confidently  that,  by  the  magic  touch  of  his  lucid  ideas,  or 
frequently  even  by  significant  words,  he  could  prevent  the  increase  of 
that  fatal  influence  whose  greatness  he  deeply  felt ;  and  that,  by  verbal 
elucidations,  he  could  control  what  he  could  not  lead  intellectually  by 
the  weight  of  his  influence,  nor  practically  manage,  and  could  least  of 
all  carry  forward  by  his  creative  energy  by  actual  executive  me;. 
Niederer's  requirement  of  absolute  acquiescence  in  his  views,  arose 
from  ideas  which  he  bad  not  made  clear  and  definite  to  himself  in 
their  whole  extent  and  connection ;  for  he  was  prone  to  lose  himself 
in  metaphysical  expositions  of  his  ideas,  which  he  was  neither  fitted 
to  do  by  possessing  a  solid  substratum  of  intuitional  knowledge,  nor 
competent  to  express  in  any  manner  by  simple,  clear,  and  intelligible 
language,  and  thus  to  make  properly  comprehensible.     Most  of  the 
objects  he  sought  and  urged  were,  to  us,  mere  atmospheric  phenome- 
na, without  any  connection  whatever  with  the  basis  of  our  actual  life. 
He  was,  throughout,  unfitted   and  almost  incapable  of   giving  the 
slightest  practical  demonstration  of  his  high-sounding  ideas.     This  he 
knew  himself;  and  often  required  with  earnestness  that  others  should 
not  only  receive,  as  he  did,  what  be  had  constructed  in  his  ideal  man- 
ner, but  also  that  they  should  work  them  out  in  actual  practice  to  his 
satisfaction,  and  that  without  requiring  much  co-operation  from  him." 
—Fortune*  of  My  Life,  p.  29. 


JOHANNES  Bl 

JOHANNES  Bess,  an  assistant  teacher  of  Pestaloni,  especially  in 
teaching  drawing,  was  born  at  Tubingen,  in  Wurtemburg,  in  1776. 
His  father  held  a  subordinate  place  about  the  theological  school^ 
and  thus  secured  for  the  son  better  opportunities  of  early  instruction 
than  are  usually  enjoyed  by  persons  in  his  condition.  In  the  gram- 
mar school  he  acquired,  before  he  was  twehe  rears  old,  considerable 
knowledge  in  Greek  and  Hebrew,  logic  and  rhetoric.  His  father  ap- 
plied for  his  gratuitous  reception  in  an  institution  recently  established 
by  the  reigning  Duke  Charles,  at  Stuttgardt  hot  this  was  refused  ; 
and  about  the  same  time  an  edict  was  promulgated,  prohibiting  chil- 
dren of  the  middle  aud  lower  class  from  embracing  a  literary  career. 
The  youth,  although  disappointed,  did  not  despair,  but  applied  him- 
self to  the  study  of  drawing.  This  he  was  obliged  to  give  up  from 
the  want  of  means,  and  at  the  age  of  sixteen  he  was  apprenticed  to 
a  bookbinder — an  art  by  which  he  hoped  yet  to  get  the  means  for  a 
literary  career. 

A-V  continue  the  narrative,  in  Buss's  own  language,  down  to  his 
connection  with  PestaJoni. 


Having  served  my  apprenticeship,  I  began  to  travel;  but  growing 
choly  and  sickly,  I  was  oohged  to  return  home;  and  here  I  made  a  new  at- 
tempt  to  get  rid  of  mr  trade,  hoping  that  the  little  knowledge  of  masfe  I  had 


With  this  hope  1  went  to  Basel;  but  my  circumstances,  and  the  events  of 
*y  past  file,  had  given  me  a  degree  of  shyness,  whMi  foiled  me  in  all  my  at- 
tempts at  money-getting.  I  had  not  the  courage  to  teU  the  people  all  that  a 
man  most  say  to  obtain  from  them  what  I  wanted.  Anieodofmine,  whomet 

the  T«T  first  day  I  sat  down  in  it,*!  began  again  to  indulge  mvsetf  inmr 


the  very  first  day  I  sat  down  in  it  I  began  again  to  indulge  myse 
dreams,  thinking  it  still  possible  that  a  better  chance  might  torn  up  I 
time,  although  I  was  quite  aware  that  I  had  lost  too  orach  of  my  skill 


and  drawing  to  rejy  upon  those  two  attainments  for  an 
•ace,    1  conseowwtiT  changed  iny  place,  in  order  to  gtan  thneibr  practice  in 
both,  and  I  was  lucky  enough  to  get  two  spare  hows  a  day,  and  to  form  ac- 
quaintances, which  assisted  me  in  my  progress. 
AmongothefsIwasmtrodw^toTobler,  who  soon  perceived the  gloom  by 


*X  T  •l.ti  AMiMMAfl  .     an.4     K*  VVM»    anriiiT* •?---*  *Ktt    ra^lM      •••  tlamiTriM  «f  »f» 

-      -      -         '         -  ^         •  ~        .;.  S. :..>-..        •  •         -  .>  .  >  >  - 

::"  :?.# 


•iiliiir  me  in  gaining  a  more  fiworahte  position.    When,  therefore.  lurflsi  ia> 

:•-:-..  ::.-.      ::.,:  1\  <:.-.:    :::  <  -.   .    -.-.  -.,;-,  :.     :   ..    >  w.-,^  ,-/. : 


?-:".  .-c..v     .      •      '     ,-     ,        :'    ,-  '   >::•     ;- •:<  • ,--.:'.••.-,-    [  •    ..,.-,-_;. 

I  was.  as  I  have  before  stated,  folly  aware  of  my  deficiencies :. and  the  hop* 
that  I  should  meet  with  an  opportunity  of  improving  myselC  had  no  small 
share  in  my  determination  to  go  to  BurgdorC  in  spite  of  the  warnings  which  1 


598 


JOHAiNNKS    IH'S>. 


received  from  several  quarters  against  forming  any  connection  with  Pestnlozzi. 
wlio,  they  told  me,  was  half  mad,  and  knew  not  himself  what  he  was  about! 
In  proof  of  this  assertion  they  related  various  stories ;  as.  for  instance,  that  he 
once  came  to  Easel,  having  his  shoes  tied  with  straw,  because  he  had  given 
his  silver  buckles  to  a  beggar  on  the  road.  I  had  road  "  l.«>mtrd  and  Ger- 
trude," and  had,  therefore,  little  doubt  about  the  buckles;  but  that  ho  was  mad 
that  I  questioned.  In  short,  I  was  determined  to  try.  I  went  to  Burgdorf.  I 
can  not  describe  the  feelings  I  had  at  our  first  interview.  He  came  down  from 
an  upper  room  with  Ziemssen,  who  was  just  then  on  a  visit  with  him,  his  stock- 
ings hanging  down  about  his  heels,  and  his  coat  covered  with  dust.  His  whole 
appearance  was  so  miserable  that  1  was  inclined  to  pity  him,  and  yet  there  \\a> 
in  his  expression  something  so  great,  that  I  viewed  him  with  astonishment  and 
veneration.  This,  then,  was  Pestalozzi?  His  benevolence,  the  cordial  recep- 
tion he  gave  to  me,  a  perfect  stranger,  his  unpretending  simplicity,  and  tin-  di- 
lapidated condition  in  which  he  stood  before  me;  the  whole  man,  taken  together, 
impressed  me  most  powerfully.  1  was  his  in  one  instant.  No  man  had  ever 
so  sought  my  heart ;  but  none,  likewise,  has  ever  so  fully  won  my  confidence. 

The  following  morning  1  entered  his  school  :  and,  at  first,  I  con  loss  1  saw  in  it 
nothing  but  apparent  disorder,  and  an  uncomfortable  bustle.  But  I  had  heard 
Ziemssen  express  himself,  the  day  before,  with  great  warmth  concerning  Pestalozzi's 
plan  ;  my  attention  was  exeited,  and,  conquering  in  myself  the  first  impression,  I 
endeavored  to  watch  the  thing  more  closely.  It  was  not  long  before  I  discovered 
some  of  the  advantages  of  the  new  method.  At  first  I  thought  the  children  were 
detained  too  long  at  one  point;  but  I  was  soon  reconciled  to  this,  when  I  saw  the 
perfection  which  they  attained  in  their  first  exercises,  and  the  advantages  which  it 
insured  to  them  in  their  further  progress.  I  now  perceived,  for  the  first  time,  the 
disadvantages  under  which  I  myself  had  labored,  in  consequence  of  the  incoher- 
ent and  desultory  manner  in  which  I  had  been  taught  in  my  boyhood  ;  and  I  be- 
gan to  think  that,  if  I  had  been  kept  to  the  first  elements  with  similar  persever- 
ance, I  should  have  been  able  afterward  to  help  myself,  and  thus  to  escape  all 
the  sufferings  and  mclaneholy  which  I  had  endured. 

This  notion  of  mine  perfectly  agrees  with  Pestalozzi's  principle,  that  by  his 
method  men  are  to  be  enabled  to  help  themselves,  since  there  is  no  one,  as  he 
says,  in  God's  wide  world,  that  is  willing  or  able  to  help  them.  I  shuddered 
when  I  rend  this  passage  for  the  first  time  in  "  Leonard  and  Gertrude."  But,  alas, 
the  experience  of  my  life  lias  taught  me  that,  unless  a  man  be  able  to  help  him- 
self, there  is  actually  no  one,  in  God's  wide  world,  able  or  willing  to  help  him. 
I  now  saw  quite  clearly  that  my  inability  to  pursue  the  plan  of  my  younger  years 
in  an  independent  manner,  arose  from  the  superficiality  with  which  I  had  been 
taught,  and  which  had  prevented  me  from  attaining  that  degree  of  intrinsic  pow- 
er of  which  I  stood  in  need.  I  had  learned  an  art,  but  I  was  ignorant  of  the 
basis  on  which  it  rested ;  and  now  that  I  was  called  on  to  apply  it,  in  a  manner 
consistent  with  its  nature.  I  found  myself  utterly  at  a  loss  to  know  what  that  na- 
ture was.  With  all  the  attention  and  zeal  I  brought  to  the  subject,  I  could  not 
understand  the  peculiar  view  which  Pestalozzi  took  of  drawing,  and  1  could  not 
at  all  make  out  his  meaning,  when  he  told  me  that  lines,  angles,  and  curves 
were  the  basis  of  drawing.  By  way  of  explanation,  he  added,  that  in  this,  as  in 
all  other  matters,  the  human  mind  must  be  led  from  indistinct  intuitions  to  clear 
ideas.  But  I  had  no  idea,  whatever,  how  this  was  to  be  done  by  drawing.  He 
said  it  must  be  done  by  dividing  the  square  and  the  curve,  by  distinguishing  their 
simple  elements,  and  comparing  them  with  each  other.  I  now  tried  to  find  out 
what  these  simple  elements  were,  but  I  knew  not  how  to  get  at  simple  elements ; 
and,  in  endeavoring  to  reach  them,  I  drew  an  endless  variety  of  figures,  which, 
it  is  true,  might  be  called  simple,  in  a  certain  sense,  but  which  were  utterly  unfit, 
nevertheless,  to  illustrate  the  elementary  laws  which  Pestalozzi  was  in  search  of. 
Unfortunately  he  was  himself  no  proficient  either  in  writing  or  drawing  ;  though, 
in  a  manner  to  me  inconceivable,  he  had  carried  his  children  pretty  far  in  both 
these  attainments.  In  short,  months  passed  away  before  I  understood  what  was  to 
be  done  with  the  elementary  lines  which  he  put  down  for  me.  At  last  I  began 
to  suspect  that  I  ought  to  know  less  than  I  did  know  ;  or  that,  at  least,  I  must 
throw  my  knowledge,  as  it  were,  overboard,  in  order  to  descend  to  those  simple 
t  leirents  by  which  I  saw  him  produce  such  powerful,  and,  to  me,  unattainable 


JOHANNES    BUSS.  299 

•effects.  My  difficulties  were  immense.  But  the  constant  observation  of  the 
progress  which  his  children  made  in  dwelling  perseveringly  on  his  "  elements," 
brought  my  mind,  at  last,  to  maturity  on  that  point ;  I  did  violence  to  myself, 
and,  abandoning  my  preconceived  notions  of  the  subject,  I  endeavored  to  view 
all  things  in  the  light  of  those  same  elements  ;  till,  at  last,  having  reached  the 
point  of  simplicity,  I  found  it  easy,  in  the  course  of  a  few  days,  to  draw  up  my 
sketch  of  an  alphabet  of  forms. 

Whatever  my  eyes  glanced  upon  from  that  moment,  I  saw  between  lines  which 
determined  its  outline.  Hitherto  I  had  never  separated  the  outline  from -the  ob- 
ject, in  my  imagination  ;  now  I  perceived  the  outline  invariably  as  distinct  from 
the  object,  as  a  measurable  form,  the  slightest  deviation  from  which  I  could  easily 
ascertain.  But  I  now  fell  into  another  extreme.  Before  I  had  seen  nothing  but 
objects;  now  I  saw  nothing  but  lines;  and  I  imagined  that  children  must  be  ex- 
ercised on  these  lines  exclusively,  in  every  branch  of  drawing,  before  real  objects 
were  to  be  placed  before  them  for  imitation,  or  even  for  comparison.  But  Pesta- 
lozzi  viewed  his  drawing-lessons  in  connection  with  the  whole  of  his  method,  and 
with  nature,  who  will  not  allow  any  branch  of  art  to  remain  isolated  in  the  hu- 
man mind.  His  intention  was,  from  the  first  beginning,  to  lay  before  the  child 
two  distinct  series  of  figures,  of  which  one  should  be  contained  in  his  book  for  the 
earliest  infancy,  and  the  other  should  furnish  practical  illustrations  for  a  course  of 
lessons  on  abstract  forms.  The  first  were  intended  to  form,  as  it  were,  a  supple- 
ment to  nature,  in  giving  children  an  intuitive  knowledge  of  things  and  their 
names.  The  second  was  calculated  to  combine  the  practical  application  of  art 
with  the  theoretical  knowledge  of  its  laws,  by  connecting  the  perception  of  ab- 
stract forms  with  an  intuitive  examination  of  the  objects  that  fitted  into  those 
forms.*  In  this  manner,  he  meant  to  bring  nature  and  art  to  bear  upon  each  other  ; 
so  that,  as  soon  as  the  children  were  able  to  draw  a  line,  or  a  figure,  real  objects 
should  be  presented  to  them,  so  exactly  corresponding  as  to  render  their  imitation 
a  mere  repetition  of  the  same  exercise  which  they  had  before  performed  in  the 
abstract. 

I  was  afraid  lest,  by  giving  the  child  real  objects,  his  perception  of  the  outline 
should  be  disturbed  ;"but  Pestalozzi  did  not  wish  to  cultivate  any  power  against 
nature,  and  he  said,  concerning  this  subject :  "  Nature  gives  no  lines,  but  only  ob- 
jects to  the  child  ;  the  lines  must  be  given  to  the  child,  that  he  may  view  the 
objects  correctly;  but  to  take  the  objects  from  him,  in  order  to  make  him  see 
lines  only,  would  be  exceedingly  wrong." 

But  there  was  another  difficulty  in  which  I  had  entangled  myself.  Pestalozzi 
told  me  that  children  must  learn  to  read  those  outlines  like  so  many  words,  by 
denominating  the  different  parts,  the  lines,  angles,  and  curves,  with  different  let- 
ters, so  that  their  combinations  may  be  as  easily  expressed  in  language,  and  put 
down  in  writing,  as  any  other  word  by  the  composition  of  its  letters.  In  this  man- 
ner an  alphabet  of  forms  was  to  be  established  and  a  technical  language  created, 
by  means  of  which  the  nicest  distinctions  of  the  different  forms  might  be  clearly 
brought  before  the  mind,  and  appropriately  expressed  in  words  calculated  to  illus- 
trate them  by  the  difference  of  the  formation. 

Pestalozzi  persevered  until  I  understood  him.  I  saw  that  I  gave  him  a  great 
deal  of  trouble,  and  I  was  sorry  for  it.  It  was,  however,  unavoidable  ;  and  but  for 
;his  patience  we  should  never  have  made  an  alphabet  of  forms. 

At  last  I  succeeded.  I  began  by  the  letter  A.  I  showed  him  what  I  had 
done  ;  he  approved  of  it,  and  now  one  thing'followed  from  the  other  without  any 
difficulty.  In  fact,  the  figures  being  once  completed,  the  whole  was  done  ;  but  I 
was  unable  to  see  all  that  I  had  done  ;  I  had  neither  the  power  of  expressing 
myself  clearly  on  the  subject,  nor  the  capability  of  understanding  the  expression 
of  others. 

To  remedy  the  defect  under  which  I  labored  is,  however,  one  of  the  most  es- 
sential objects  of  Pestalozzi's  method,  which  connects  language  throughout  with 
the  knowledge  gained  from  nature  by  the  assistance  of  art,  and  supplies  the  pupil 
at  every  stage  of  instruction  with  appropriate  expressions  for  what  he  has  learned. 

It  was  an  observation  which  we  all  of  us  made  upon  ourselves,  that  we  were 
unable  to  give  a  distinct  and  accurate  account,  even  of  those  things  of  which  we 
had  a  clear  and  comprehensive  idea.  Pestalozzi  himself,  when  explaining  his 
views  on  education,  had  great  difficulties  in  find  ing  always  the  precise  term  which 
"would  convey  his  meaning. 


300  JOHANNES    BUSS. 

It  was  this  want  of  precise  language,  in  fact,  which  caused  me  to  remain  so- 
long  in  the  dark  concerning  the  nature  of  my  task,  and  prevented  me  from  per- 
ceiving what  Pestalozzi's  views  were  on  that  subject. 

After  I  had  overcome  all  these  difficulties,  my  progress  was  rapid,  and  I  felt 
every  day  more  the  advantages  of  his  method.  1  saw  how  much  may  be  done 
by  precision  and  clearness  of  language  on  the  subject  of  instruction,  whether  it 
be  one  of  nature  or  of  art,  to  assist  the  mind  in  forming  a  correct  notion  of  forms 
and  their  proportions,  and  in  distinguishing  them  clearly  from  each  other ;  and  I 
could  not,  therefore,  but  be  aware  of  the  paramount  importance  of  enlightened 
and  careful  instruction  in  the  signs  which  language  supplies  for  the  designation  of 
things,  their  properties,  relations,  and  distinctions.  Experience  confirmed  the 
conjecture  which  I  had  formed,  that  children  taught  upon  this  method  would 
make  more  accurate  distinctions,  than  even  men  accustomed,  from  earlv  life,  to- 
measuring  and  drawing;  and  the  progress  which  many  of  our  children  made 
was  beyond  comparison,  greater  than  that  which  is  commonly  obtained  in  schools. 

It  is  very  true,  I  saw  the  whole  of  Pestalozzi's  method  only  through  the  me- 
dium, as  it  were,  of  my  peculiar  branch  of  instruction,  and  judged  of  its  value 
by  the  effects  which  it  produced  in  particular  application  to  my  art.  But  my 
anxiety  to  enter  fully  into  the  spirit  of  it,  led  me,  in  spite  of  that  limitation,  by 
degrees  to  investigate  the  bearing  which  it  had  upon  other  branches  ;  and,  at  last,, 
assisted  by  the  practical  illustrations  which  drawing  afforded  me,  I  succeeded  in< 
comprehending  Pestalozzi's  views  on  language  and  arithmetic.  [  saw  that,  as  it 
was  possible  to  proceed  from  lines  to  angles,  from  angles  to  figures,  and  from  fig- 
ures to  real  objects,  in  the  art  of  drawing,  so  it  must  likewise  be  possible,  in  lan- 
guage, to  proceed  b)T  degrees  from  sounds  to  words,  and  from  words  to  sentences, 
and  thereby  lead  the  child  to  equal  clearness  on  that  subject.  As  regard!  arith- 
metic, I  was  laboring  under  the  same  error  as  before,  with  reference  to  the  intu- 
ition of  objects.  As  I  looked  at  these  without  reference  to  their  outline,  so  did  I 
view  numbers  without  a  clear  notion  of  the  real  value  or  contents  of  each.  Now,. 
on  the  contrary,  I  acquired  a  distinct  and  intuitive  idea  of  the  extent  of  each 
number,  and  I  perceived,  at  the  same  time,  the  progress  which  the  children  made 
in  this  branch  of  instruction.  At  length,  it  seemed  to  me  a  point  of  essential 
importance,  that  the  knowledge  and  practice  of  the  elements  of  every  art  should 
be  founded  upon  number,  form,  and  language.  This  led  me  to  understand  the 
difficulties  with  which  I  had  so  long  been  struggling  in  my  own  department.  I 
saw  how  I  had  stuck  fast  from  want  of  clearness  of  language,  and  how  I  was 
impeded  by  a  confused  idea  of  number.  It  seemed  very  obvious  that  the  child 
can  not  imagine,  with  any  degree  of  precision,  the  division  of  any  figure  into  its- 
component  parts,  unless  he  have  a  clear  idea  of  the  number  of  those  parts ;  that, 
for  instance,  if  he  is  in  the  dark  as  to  the  extent  of  the  number  four,  he  must  be 
equallv  in  the  dark  on  the  division  of  any  figure  into  four  parts. 

I  felt  my  own  mind  daily  clearing  up  ;  I  saw  that  what  I  had  attained  had  in 
itself  a  power,  as  it  were,  to  carry  me  further  and  further  ;  and  applying  this 
experience  to  the  child,  I  came  to  the  conviction,  that  the  effect  of  Pestalozzi's 
method  is,  to  render  every  individual  intellectually  independent,  by  awakening 
and  strengthening  in  him  the  power  of  advancing  by  himself  in  every  branch  of 
knowledge.  It  seemed  like  a  great  wheel,  which,  if  once  set  going,  would  con- 
tinue to  turn  round  of  itself.  Nor  did  it  appear  so  to  me  only.  Hundreds  came, 
and  saw,  and  said  :  ''  It  can  not  fail."  Poor  ignorant  men  and  women  said  : 
"  Why,  that's  what  I  can  do  myselY  at  home  with  my  child  !  "  And  they  were 
right.  The  whole  of  the  method  is  mere  play  for  any  one  who  has  laid  hold  of 
the  first  elements,  and  has  followed  its  progress  sufficiently  to  be  secured  against 
the  danger  of  straying  into  those  circuitous  paths  which  lead  man  away  from  the 
foundation  of  nature,  on  which  alone  all  his  knowledge  and  art  can  securely  rest,. 
and  from  which  he  can  not  depart  without  entangling  himself  in  endless  and 
inextricable  difficulties.  Nature  herself  demands  nothing  of  us  but  what  is  easy, 
provided  we  seek  it  in  the  right  way,  and  under  her  guidance. 

One  word  more,  and  1  have  done.  My  acquaintance  with  Pestalozzi's  method 
has  in  a  great  measure  restored  to  me  the  cheerfulness  and  energy  of  my  younger 
dav^.  and  has  rekindled  in  my  bosom  those  hopes  of  improvement  for  myself  and 
mv  jpecies,  which  I  had  for  a  long  time  esteemed  as  vain  dreams,  and  cast  away 
in  opposition  to  the  voice  of  my  own  heart. 


JOSEPH   SCHMID. 

JOSEPH  SCHMID,  one  of  the  best  known  of  Pestalozzi's  assistants, 
was  a  native  of  Tyrol,  and,  when  he  entered  the  institution  as  a 
scholar,  was  a  Catholic,  and  excessively  ignorant.  He  possessed  great 
native  talent  for  mathematics,  and  this,  together  with  his  habits  of 
industry,  order,  and  thoroughness,  raised  him  in  time  to  the  rank  of 
the  most  influential  of  Pestalozzi's  teachers.  Although  his  talents  as 
a  mathematician,  and  still  more  his  great  business  capacity,  rendered 
him  quite  indispensable  as  a  member  of  the  institution,  yet  his  con- 
duct, and  his  demeanor  in  his  intercourse  with  his  fellow-instructors, 
became  so  unsatisfactory  to  them,  that  in  1810  he  was  dismissed  from 
the  institution.  He  soon  after  established  himself  as  teacher  of  a 
school  at  Bregenz,  and  vindicated  himself  by  publishing  a  work  en- 
titled "  My  Experience  and  Ideas  on  Education,  Institutions,  and 
Schools:1 

But  the  absence  of  his  financial  guidance  brought  the  institution 
to  such  a  point  of  confusion,  that,  notwithstanding  the  deep  ill-feeling 
against  him  on  the  part  of  the  teachers,  he  was  recalled  five  years 
afterward,  in  1815.  From  this  time  onward,  he  was  in  opposition 
to  all  the  remaining  teachers,  except  Pestalozzi  himself,  who  unflinch- 
ingly stood  his  friend  to  the  day  of  his  death.  But  the  dislike  of  the 
other  teachers  against  him,  although  unable  to  eject  him  from  the 
institution,  resulted,  with  other  causes,  in  its  ruin.  Twelve  of  the 
teachers,  including  Blochmann,  Kriisi,  Stern,  Ramsauer,  Ackermann, 
^fec.,  left  at  one  time  ;  having  drawn  up  and  signed  a  document  attrib- 
uting their  departure  to  the  faults  and  misconduct  of  Schmid.  Others 
were  appointed  in  their  places,  but  the  day  of  the  institution  was 
over,  and  it  gradually  sank  into  entire  decay. 

Schmid  now  conceived  the  idea  of  an  edition  of  the  complete  works 
of  Pestalozzi,  and  himself  made  the  arrangements  with  the  publisher, 
Cotta,  and  applied  for  subscriptions  in  all  quarters,  with  so  much  vigor 
•and  success  that  the  net  profits  of  the  undertaking  to  Pestalozzi  were 
50,000  francs.  He  also  appears  to  have  assisted  in  revising  and 
rewriting  portions  of  the  works ;  which,  however,  do  not  contain  a 
number  of  important  compositions  by  Pestalozzi,  while  some  of 
Schmid's  own.  embodying  them,  are  published  among  them. 

Sch raid's  personal  appearance  was  somewhat  striking.     He  was 


302  JOSEPH  SCHMID 

muscular  and  strong,  of  dark  complexion,  and  keen  black  eyes,  \\\th 
a  harsh  voice,  and  a  sharp  look.  Of  his  life,  subsequent  to  the  year 
1817,  we  have  no  precise  information.  We  give  below  Pestalozzi's- 
own  estimate  of  Schmid,  as  published  in  1825  : — 

u  I  must  trace  from  its  source  the  powers  which  seemed  the  only 
ones  capable  of  holding  us  together  in  these  sad  circumstances. 
While  we  were  at  Burgdorf,  in  the  beginning  of  the  evil  consequences 
of  our  unnatural  union  there,  there  came  to  us,  from  the  mountains 
of  Tyrol,  a  lad  showing  not  a  single  trace  of  the  exaggerated  refine- 
ment of  our  time,  but  endowed  with  inward  gifts  whose  depth  and 
subsequent  use  were  anticipated  by  none — not  even  by  myself.  But 
some  unexplained  feeling  drew  me  toward  him  on  the  first  instant  of 
his  appearance  in  our  midst,  as  I  had  never  been  drawn  to  any  other 
pupil.  His  characteristics  were,  from  the  first,  quiet,  efficient  activity, 
circumscribed  within  himself:  great  religious  fervency,  after  the  Cath- 
olic persuasion,  and  of  a  simple  but  powerful  kind ;  and  eager  efforts 
after  every  attainment  in  learning  or  wisdom  which  he  judged  neces- 
sary. Tn  the  exercises  in  elementary  means  of  education,  mental  and 
practical,  he  soon  surpassed  all  his  teachers,  and  soon  even  became 
the  instructor  of  those  who  a  little  before  had  looked  upon  him  as  the 
most  uncultivated  child  they  had  ever  seen  in  our  institution.  This 
son  of  nature — who  even  at  this  day  owes  nothing  to  the  culture  of 
the  time,  and,  in  all  that  he  has  accomplished,  is  as  ignorant  of  the 
usual  outward  forms  of  every  intellectual  science  as  he  was  the  day 
he  came  from  the  mountains  into  our  midst,  with  his  Ave  Maria  in 
his  mouth  and  his  beads  in 'his  pocket,  but  with  a  powerful  intellect,. 
a  peaceful  heart,  and  courage  ready  for  every  struggle — soon  excited, 
by.  his  whole  conduct  amongst  us,  extraordinary  expectations ;  and, 
on  my  part,  that  close  friendship  which  I  felt  for  him  almost  as 
strongly  in  the  first  hour  of  our  meeting. 

Schmid  passed  the  years  of  his  youth  in  these  quiet  but  active 
labors;  and,  recognized  at  his  first  appearance  as  an  extraordinary 
child  of  nature,  his  mind,  developed  in  the  power  of  thinking  and. 
managing  by  many  experiences  of  practical  life,  could  not  fail  soon  to 
recognize  the  unnaturalness  and  weakness  of  our  organization,  and  of 
all  our  doings  and  efforts.  As  soon  as  the  influence  of  his  preponder- 
ating powers  had  insured  him  a  recognized  right  to  do  it,  he  did  not 
delay  to  declare  himself,  with  Tyrolian  open-heartedness,  against  the 
presumption  of  the  one-sided  and  narrow  views  of  the  tablet-phan- 
tasta,  and  of  the  equally  narrow  and  one-sided  as  well  as  superficial 
praises  of  our  methods  of  intellectual  instruction ;  and,  most  of  allr 
against  the  continually-increasing  inefficiency,  love  of  mere  amuse 
ment,  disorder,  insubordination,  and  neglect  of  positive  duties  there- 


JOSEPH  SCI1MID.  303 

with  connected.  He  required,  without  any  exception,  of  each  and 
all  of  the  members  of  our  association,  from  morning  to  evening,  the 
thorough  performance  of  all  the  duties  properly  pertaining  to  the 
members  of  a  well-ordered  household.  He  was  equally  clear  and 
distinct  in  rejecting  every  boast  of  the  elevation  and  importance  of 
our  principles  and  efforts,  which  was  not  proved  amongst  us  by  actual 
facts,  as  idle  babble ;  and  was  accustomed  to  ask,  when  any  thing  of 
this  kind  was  said,  *  How  is  this  put  into  practice  ?  What  use  is 
made  of  it? '  And,  if  the  answer  did  not  please  him,  he  would  hear 
no  more  of  the  subject.  This  conduct,  however,  very  soon  and  very 
generally  gave  very  great  offense." — Fortunes  of  My  Life,  pp.  22  to- 
24,  34,  36. 


HANS   GEORG    NAGELI. 

HANS  GEORG  NAGELI,  by  whose  compositions  and  teaching  the 
Pestalozzian  method  of  instruction  was  applied  to  the  study  of  music, 
was  born,  May  17,  1773,  at  Wetzekon,  a  village  in  the  canton  of  Zu- 
rich, of  which  his  father  was  pastor.  After  receiving  his  rudimentary 
education  at  home,  he  went  to  Zurich  in  1786,  to  continue  his  studies ; 
but  homesickness  soon  drew  him  back  to  his  father's  home,  where  he 
devoted  himself  carefully  to  the  study  of  music,  and  in  1790  he  again 
resorted  to  Zurich,  when  in  a  few  years  we  find  him  in  a  music  store 
and  musical  circulating  library  of  his  own,  and  at  the  same  time 
giving  lessons  in  singing.  He  became  a  composer  and  publisher  of 
music,  and  in  1800  he  established  a  periodical  principally,  devoted  to 
his  favorite  art.  His  song,  "  Life  let  us  cherish,"  accompaniments  of 
harp  and  harpsichord,  published  in  1794,  passed  the  parlor,  and 
the  fireside,  and  the  social  gathering  of  rich  and  poor,  all  over  Europe  ; 
and  the  same  popularity  has  marked  other  productions  of  his. 

Nageli  was  one  of  the  earliest  founders,  even  if  he  did  not  originate, 
the  Swiss  musical  league  or  union,  which  set  the  example  of  great 
musical  festivals,  attended  by  concourses  of  people,  practically  engaged 
in  or  lovers  of  the  art.  He  went  out  frequently  to  give  instruction, 
to  musical  societies  in  the  different  cantons,  to  lecture  on  the  subject 
to  conventions  of  teachers,  and,  in  1810,  published,  in  connection 
with  M.  T.  PfeifFer,  "  The  Theory  of  Instruction  in  Singing,  on  Pes- 
talozzian Principles,"  (Die  Gesangbildungslehre  nach  Pestalozzischen 
Grundsatzen,)  by  which  a  new  epoch  in  this  department  of  education 
was  introduced.  The  treatise  was  the  best  realization  of  the  method 
of  Pestalozzi,  and  soon  made  singing  a  regular  study  in  the  popular 
schools  of  Europe,  particularly  those  of  Switzerland  and  Germany. 
By  the  efforts  of  William  C.  Woodbridge  and  Lowell  Mason,  the 
method  of  Nageli  was  introduced  into  the  United  States  ;  and,  in  con- 
sequence, the  study  of  music  became  much  more  philosophical  and 
general,  and  is  fast  passing  into  the  course  of  instruction  in  our  com- 
mon schools. 

Nageli  died  at  Zurich,  on  the  26th  of  December,  1836,  from  a  cold 
he  contracted  in  discharge  of  his  duties  as  a  member  of  the  council 
of  education. 


JOHANN   RAMSAUEB. 


JOHANX  RAMSAUER  was  born  in  May,  1790,  in  Herisau,  in  the  Swiss 
•canton  of  Appenzell,  where  his  father  carried  on  a  small  manufac- 
tory, and  a  trade  in  the  machines  and  tools  used  in  spinning  and 
weaving-factories.  In  his  fourth  year  he  lost  his  father,  whose  busi- 
ness was  continued  by  his  mother.  He  was  the  youngest  of  her  seven 
remaining  children ;  and  was  occupied  in  the  labors  of  the  establish- 
ment, and  in  accompanying  his  older  brothers  and  sisters  to  market. 
At  home  he  learned  to  work,  and  to  be  orderly,  industrious,  and  obe- 
dient. At  eight  he  was  sent  to  a  wretched  school,  where,  in  two 
years,  he  learned,  with  great  difficulty,  to  write  and  read  ill.  During 
this  period  of  his  life  he  learned  much  more  from  the  good  examples 
set  him  at  home  than  from  the  incompetent  schoolmaster.  In  the 
"  Brief  Sketch  of  My  Pedagogical  Life,"  furnished  originally  for 
Diesterweg's  "  Pedagogical  Germany,"  we  are  told : — 

"When  the  French  Revolution,  during  the  years  1796  to  1799, 
caused  stagnation  of  trade,  general  loss  of  employment,  and  even 
famine  and  all  sorts  of  misery  throughout  Switzerland,  especially  the 
eastern  part,  there  gradually  wandered  away,  out  of  the  cantons  of 
Uri,  Schwytz,  Unterwalden,  Zug,  Glarus,  and  Appenzell,  five  thousand 
three  hundred  boys  and  girls  of  from  seven  to  fourteen ;  partly  to 
Basle  and  Neuenburg,  but  chiefly  to  the  great  cantons  of  Zurich  and 
Bern,  where  they  were  received  humanely,  and  in  most  cases  treated 
even  with  parental  kindness  and  fidelity.  Although  I  did  not  belong 
to  such  a  troop  of  utterly  destitute  children,  my  mother  yielded  to 
my  often -repeated  request  to  be  also  allowed  to  emigrate ;  and  thus, 
in  February,  1800,  I  left  my  home  and  wandered  off  with  forty-four 
boys  of  from  ten  to  fourteen  years  old."  He  entered,  while  a  boy,  a 
school  at  Burgdorf,  which  Kriisi  was  teaching ;  and  soon  after  that 
of  Pestalozzi.  "  In  the  public  school,  where  Pestalozzi  taught  six 
hours  daily,  I  learned,  school-fashion,  no  more  than  the  rest.  But 
his  holy  zeal,  his  deep  and  entirely  self-forgetting  love,  and  his  earn- 
est manner,  impressive  even  to  the  children,  made  the  deepest  im- 
pression upon  me,  and  knit  my  childish,  grateful  heart  to  his  forever." 
He  continued  for  several  years  at  Burgdorf,  as  scholar,  table-waiter, 
and  under-under-teacher.  Ramsaner  became  a  favorite  scholar  of 
Pestalozzi,  and  accompanied  him,  often  acting  as  his  private  secretary 


306  JOHANN  RAMSAUER. 

during  his  stay  at  Burgdorf,  Miinchen-Buchsee,  and  Yverdun.  At 
the  latter  place  he  acquired  a  knowledge  of  mechanics,  with  the 
view  of  assisting  in  a  school  planned  by  Pestalozzi  for  the  education 
of  the  poor.  He  left  Yverdun  in  April,  1816,  to  become  a  teacher 
in  a  school  newly  established  at  Wiirzburg ;  departing  from  Pestal- 
ozzi with  great  reluctance,  but  feeling  that  the  influence  and  character 
of  Schmid  rendered  him  of  little  further  use  there,  and  in  part  in- 
duced by  the  privilege  of  free  attendance  upon  lectures  at  the  Univers- 
ity of  Wiirzburg. 

Here  Ramsauer  lived  happily,  making  short  journeys  from  time  to 
time,  giving  private  instruction,  acquiring  new  knowledge  from  the 
university  lectures,  of  a  kind  which  afforded  a  useful  complement  to 
his  previous  practical  studies,  and  growing  so  rapidly  in  reputation 
that,  in  October,  1816,  of  four  invitations  to  other  situations  as 
teacher,  two  were  from  Stuttgardt,  one  inviting  him  to  become 
instructor  of  the  princes  Alexander  and  Peter  of  Oldenburg,  and 
another  to  become  head  of  an  important  school  for  the  elementary 
instruction  of  children  of  the  educated  classes.  Both  these  invita- 
tions he  accepted,  and  went  to  Stuttgardt  in  March,  1817. 

While  here,  he  undertook  a  third  employment  as  teacher  in  a  new 
real  school;  his  own  institute  being  discontinued,  and  the  male  pupils 
entering  the  real  school,  while  the  female  ones,  whom  he  continued 
to  teach,  attended  the  Katharinemtift,  a  female  school  established 
by  the  Queen  of  Wirtemburg,  and  opened  with  an  address  by  the 
queen  herself. 

The  young  princes  of  Oldenburg  leaving  Stuttgardt  in  1 820,  for 
the  court  of  their  grandfather,  the  Duke  of  Oldenburg,  Ramsauer 
attended  them  thither,  to  continue  their  education  in  mathermUics, 
drawing,  and  gymnastics.  Some  months  afterward  he  opened  a 
school  for  girls  of  the  educated  classes,  which  he  was  still  conducting 
with  success  in  1838. 

In  1826  he  was  appointed  teacher  of  the  duchesses  Amalia  and 
Frederica  of  Oldenburg,  whom  he  instructed  for  ten  years.  After- 
ward he  established  in  Oldenburg  a  school  for  the  daughters  of  per- 
sons of  the  educated  classes.  Here  he  published  his  u  Instruction  in 
Form,  Size,  and  Substance  ;  being  the  elements  of  Geometry  meth- 
odized. With  fifteen  lithographic  plates.  1826."  He  had  before 
published  his  work  on  "  Drawing,  "  in  two  volumes,  thirty-one  litho- 
graphic plates. 

Ramsauer  sums  up  his  pedagogical  experience  as  follows : — 

1.  I  learned,  in  my  father's  house,  up  to  my  tenth  year,  to  pray  and  to  obey. 

2.  In  Schleumen,  to  run,  climb,  and  jump. 

3.  With  Pestalozzi,  from  rny  eleventh  to  my  twenty-sixth  year,  to  work,  to 
think,  and  to  observe. 


JOHANN  RAMSAUER.  307 

4.  During  my  various  journeys,  to  be  independent,  and  to  help  myself. 

5.  In  Wiirzburg  and  Stuttgardt,  to  be  more  modest,  and  to  some  extent  a 
knowledge  of  the  world  and  of  family  life. 

6.  In  Oldenburg,  the  word  of  God ;  to  endure  good  and  evil  with  equanimi- 
ty, well-knowing  whence  and  why  they  come ;  and  in  many  ways  the  knowl- 
edge that  we  live  upon  a  beautiful  and  wonderful  earth,  but  that  to  care  and 
strive  for  things  connected  with  it,  is  a  troubled  life ;  that  it  is  well  worth  while 
to  pay  regard  to  the  spirit  of  the  age ;  and  that  it  is  possible  to  live  very  hap- 
pily here  below,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  prepare  one's  self  well  for  the  better 
future  life. 

We  give  some  further  extracts  from  the  "  Sketches"  which  may 
be  interesting  to  readers  connected  with  the  work  of  education. 

I  have  already  said  that  the  finer  social  graces  must  either  be  inborn  or  de- 
veloped by  culture.  Even  of  the  simple  politeness  of  a  boy's  manners  this  is 
true.  I  have  found  this  always  to  be  the  case.  Those  to  whom  this  gift  is  nat- 
ural are  usually  of  rather  weak  or  superficial  intellects ;  but,  as  the  saying  is, 
they  get  well  through  the  world — that  is,  easily  attain  eminence  in  society. 
This  opinion  has  led  me  to  another  and  a  more  important  one,  namely,  that 
in  practical  life  it  is  of  little  moment  whether  one  has  "a  good  head,"  (ein  guter 
kopf.)  It  is  of  much  greater  importance,  however,  what  is  one's  character  for 
truthfulness  and  perseverance ;  and  much  more,  that  he  keep  his  faith.  Through 
this  last,  if  it  be  of  the  right  kind,  comes  the  blessing.  As  to  the  point  of  prac- 
tical efficiency,  every  one  of  even  moderate  experience  in  the  world  will  agree 
with  me  that  those  men  who  have  filled  important  places  in  the  world,  are  in- 
debted to  their  truthfulness,  perseverance,  and  uprightness,  much  more  than  to- 
their  "good  head,"  or  their  "genius."  This  is  especially  true  of  those  of  the 
burgher  class.  Even  in  the  elementary  school,  this  truthfulness  and  persever- 
ance can  be  cultivated,  proved,  and  established ;  but  it  is  home  education  which 
must  do  most  of  it. 

It  has  often  troubled  me  to  hear  of  a  "  smart  boy  "  (guien  Jcopfe,)  in  a  family 
or  school,  and  to  see  those  undervalued  who  lacked  such  a  qualification.  Such 
conduct  discourages  those  reckoned  inferior,  (who  subsequently  very  probably 
may  excel  them,)  and  only  makes  those  possessed  of  this  apparent  talent  con- 
ceited and  heartless.  Faith  and  good  feeling  forbid  such  doing;  unless  we  are - 
born  merely  for  the  span  of  present  existence!  Young  teachers,  just  com- 
mencing, are  especially  prone  to  fix  upon  such  smart  boys;  but  commonly  de- 
ceive themselves,  by  setting  a  high  value  upon  a  mere  partial  quickness  of 
apprehension.  There  are  even  teachers,  whether  from  the  fear  of  men  or 
from  some  other  discreditable  weakness,  who  praise  every  thing  they  see  in 
their  scholars ;  or  who,  after  they  have  complained  to  their  colleagues  about 
scholars  all  the  year,  will,  at  the  end  of  the  term,  make  out  for  them  certificates 
of  unqualified  excellence. 

I  have  known  not  only  hundreds  but  thousands  of  proofs  that,  however  un- 
pleasant a  strict  teacher  my  be  to  a  bad  scholar,  such  a  scholar  will,  in  the  end, 
feel  toward  him  more  respect,  and  gratitude,  and  love;  provided  only  that  the 
strictness  was  just — that  is,  without  respect  of  persons,  partiality,  or  passion- 
ateness.  Even  the  most  spoiled  of  children  will  endure  ten  times  more  from 
such  a  teacher  than  from  another,  provided  only  that  the  parents  acquiesce  in  it. 

There  are  also  teachers  who  lay  great  stress  upon  learning  quickly ;  forget- 
ting that  the  most  superficial  scholars  are  often  the  quickest.  Such  will  find,  by 
experiments  enough,  that  these  forget  just  as  quickly ;  while  things  acquired 
with  more  pains  remain  longer  in  the  memory,  and  are  better  understood.  The 
principal  thing  is  thoroughness;  it  is  this  only  which  truly  educates — which 
tells  upon  character.  Merely  to  know  more  or  less  is  of  little  significance : 
whoever  imagines  that  he  knows  very  much,  does,  in  fact,  know  pitifully  little. 
This  thoroughness  should  be  a  characteristic  even  of  the  lowest  elementary 
school ;  and  is  a  constituent  of  what  I  have  already  referred  to  as  perseverance. 
A  condition  preparatory  to  this  thoroughness  is,  that  the  scholar  be  constrained 
(without  any  apparent  force,  however,)  into  thinking  and  laboring  independ- 
ently. Thus  I  have  often  said  to  an  indolent  or  compliant  scholar,  who  imitated 
others  rather  too  easily,  "Your  own  eating  must  make  you  fat;  that  you^ 


308  JOHANN  RAMSAUER. 

know  very  well.  Just  so,  your  own  thinking  must  make  you  \\  ise ;  and  your 
own  practice  must  make  you  dexterous." 

A  condition  of  thoroughness  is  repetition ;  constant  repetition.  This  means 
is,  to  many  teachers,  too  wearisome,  or  too  slow :  the  latter,  to  those  who  instruct 
mechanically  only ;  the  former,  to  those  who  have  never  perceived  and  learned 
for  themselves,  but  only  out  of  books.  But  a  teacher  whose  heart  is  really  in 
his  work  will  be  drilling  often  and  earnestly,  and  always  in  new  ways ;  so  that 
both  the  scholar  and  he  himself  will  always  be  getting  at  a  new  and  interesting 
side  of  the  subject.  But  a  teacher  who  labors  in  two  or  three  departments  of 
study  with  vivacity  and  pleasure,  and  gives  really  thorough  instruction — such 
as  really  educates — will  naturally  have  neither  time  nor  wish  to  expend  several 
hours  daily  hi  a  club  or  in  other  mere  amusements.  His  greatest  happiness 
will  be  in  his  calling ;  and  in  daily  progress  in  whatever  is  truly  useful  for  time 
and  eternity.  Such  a  teacher  will  live  as  much  as  possible  amongst  his  own 
children,  if  he  has  them ;  and  the  more  he  does  so,  the  better  will  he  compre- 
hend other  children,  and,  therefore,  the  better  will  he  manage  them. 

Among  my  own  children,  as  well  as  among  those  of  others,  I  have  repeatedly 
experienced  that  there  is  a  school  understanding,  a  conversation  understanding, 
and  a  life  or  practical  understanding ;  all  three  very  clearly  distinct,  especially 
the  first  and  the  third.  If  the  teacher  only  understands  the  first  of  these,  he 
only  half-understands  even  that ;  and  is  hi  great  danger  of  exacting  too  much 
or  too  little  from  his  scholars.  In  like  manner,  parents  are  liable  to  do  the 
teacher  injustice,  if  they  judge  of  their  children  only  by  their  words  and  actions 
at  home.  Girls  especialty,  who  in  school  hardly  dare  open  their  mouths,  often 
appear  astonishingly  quick  and  intelligent  outside  ;  so  that  those  will  be  much 
deceived  who  overlook  the  multitude  of  cases  in  which  children  imitate  the 
words  and  actions  of  adults,  and  pass  off  their  sayings  for  their  own  coin.  The 
school  understanding  is  the  most  suitable  for  scholars;  as  their  passions  are  less 
liable  to  come  into  play  in  connection  with  it,  and  all  matters  which  are  regu- 
larly arranged  and  under  rules  assist  its  onward  progress.  From  this  differ- 
ence it  often  follows  that  the  same  scholar  who  is  industrious,  efficient,  and 
intelligent  in  school,  and  seems  there  to  be  far  forward  for  his  age,  is  wholly  a 
child  when  outside  of  it,  childish  and  simple  (as  he  should  be,)  and  apparently 
quite  backward  in  understanding,  and  this  especially  where  he  needs  to  govern 
himself  and  to  exhibit  character. 

Such  experiences  of  a  hundred  others  will  lead  every  observing  teacher — I 
do  not  state  this  as  any  thing  new,  but  merely  as  something  of  psychological 
importance,  and  therefore  not  susceptible  of  too  frequent  repetition — to  require 
from  his  scholars  neither  too  much  nor  too  little,  and  to  hope  from  them  neither 
too  much  nor  too  little.  And  I  believe  that  the  frequent  enforcement  of  such 
experiences  would  materially  ease  the  difficult  calling  of  the  teacher,  especially 
at  its  commencement,  and  would  save  beginners  our  trouble  at  Pestalozzi's  In- 
stitute ;  that  is,  from  spending  all  the  first  years  of  their  work  in  proving  and 
experimenting,  without  the  advantage  of  being  able  to  learn  of  their  prede- 
cessors. 


; 


KARL  AUGUST  ZELLER 


KARL  AUGUST  ZELLER,  High  School  Councillor  and  Royal  Council- 
lor of  the  Kingdom  of  Prussia,  was  born  August  15th,  1774,  in 
Ludwigsburg,  Wirtemberg.  He  was  educated  in  a  theological  semi- 
nary, and  in  1798  received  an  appointment  as  teacher  and  assistant 
preacher  in  the  evangelical  congregation  at  Brunn.  In  1803,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  Pestalozzi's  establishment  at  Burgdorf,  for  the  purpose  of 
making  himself  acquainted  with  his  new  system  of  instruction.  AD 
offer,  which  he  accepted,  to  accompany  a  young  man  of  the  Von 
Palm  family  upon  his  travels,  gave  him  occasion,  while  at  Tubingen 
in  the  winter  of  1804,  to  establish  a  charity  school  for  the  purpose  of 
trying  Pestalozzi's  plans,  and  afterwards,  at  the  request  of  some  of  his 
scholars  at  Brunn,  a  Sunday-school.  Both  are  described  in  a  work 
dedicated  to  that  friend  of  education,  the  late  Pauline,  Princess  of 
Detmold,  who  gave  him  the  appointment  of  Councillor,  and  retained 
a  decided  interest  in  his  prosperity  until  her  death. 

Zeller  became  pastor  at  St.  Gall,  and  teacher  in  the  gymnasium 
there,  in  1805.  In  1806,  he  became  acquainted,  in  Zurich,  with  the 
Senator  Rusterholz,  who  had  a  scheme  for  educating  all  the  teachers 
of  the  cantons  in  normal  schools,  which  he  was  prevented  from  carry- 
ing out  by  sickness.  Becoming  much  interested  for  the  sick  man  and 
his  designs,  he  agreed  to  remain  in  Zurich  and  endeavor  to  assist  him ; 
to  which  cooperation  the  authorities  of  the  cantons  agreed. 

The  first  course  of  instruction  was  opened  in  1806,  with  thirty 
pupils,  by  a  commission  of  school  councillors,  under  the  presidency  of 
Superintendent  Gessner.  The  lectures,  here  devoted  to  the  principles 
of  correct  school  discipline,  gave  Zeller  an  opportunity  of  composing 
bis  "  School  for  Teachers"  After  the  decisive  experiment  of  this 
course,  seven  thousand  florins  were  appropriated  to  defray  the  expense 
of  a  Normal  School,  Pestalozzi's  arithmetic  was  introduced,  and  a  plan 
of  teaching  drawn  up  by  Zeller  was  printed  and  introduced  into  the  pa- 
rochial schools  of  the  canton.  A  second  and  a  third  part  to  this  treatise 
soon  followed.  Being  appointed  Director  of  the  Normal  Institute, 
he  trained,  in  1807,  among  others,  a  Catholic  clergyman,  sent  to  him 
by  the  government  of  Lucerne,  and  who  was  followed  by  three  canons 
from  the  same  canton,  who  had  been  studying  at  Kreutzlingen  in  the 


KARL    AUGUST    ZELLER. 

Thurgan,  under  the  patronage  of  Von  Wessenberg.  Meanwhile,  a 
favorable  report  was  made  by  a  commission  of  clergymen  upon  the 
result  of  the  first  three  courses  of  the  normal  school ;  and,  whereupon, 
Zeller  published  a  work  on  the  subject,  in  the  form  of  letters  ad- 
dressed to  the  Princess  Pauline.  Three  courses  of  lectures  now  fol- 
lowed, one  of  which  was  delivered  before  the  Swiss  Diet,  and  the 
attention  of  the  Confederation  was  thus  drawn  to  the  subject  of  them. 

The  year  1808  found  Zeller  with  Pestalozzi,  teaching  and  learn- 
ing, and  enjoying  himself  amongst  the  children.  In  returning,  he 
passed  through  Hofwyl,  where  a  young  Bernese  gave  him  fifty  Caro- 
lines, with  the  request  that  he  would  undertake  a  school  for  teachers 
among  his  country  people  in  that  neighborhood.  Upon  the  invitation 
of  the  consistory,  who  added  thirty  Carolines,  forty  teachers  assembled, 
and  remained  under  his  instruction  ten  months.  A  French  teacher, 
under  an  assumed  name,  also  attended  this  course,  and  afterwards 
pursued  his  vocation  in  his  own  country.  By  reason  of  the  open 
recognition  by  the  Bernese  government  of  his  efforts,  in  spite  of  mali- 
cious opposition,  and  having  a  little  before  received  a  call  from  Zofin- 
gen,  Zeller  had  meditated  spending  the  remainder  of  his  life  as  a 
Swiss  burgher  ;  but  the  visit  of  the  King  of  Wirtemberg  to  Hofwyl 
gave  another  direction  to  his  life. 

The  king  had  attended  five  of  his  lectures,  and  was  so  much  pleased 
with  what  he  saw  and  heard,  that  he  declared  that  he  could  not  per- 
mit Zeller  to  remain  in  that  place.  In  fact,  he  shortly  after  received 
the  appointment  of  school-inspector  at  Heilbronn,  and,  two  months 
later,  an  appointment  at  Konigsberg  from  the  Prussian  minister  of 
state,  Von  Schrotter,  whom  War-councillor  Schiffner  had  made 
acquainted  with  the  "Letters  to  the  Princess  Pauline"  Not  yet 
actually  employed  in  Heilbronn,  Zeller  requested  permission  to  accept 
the  latter ;  but  an  order  to  the  teachers  of  the  vicinity  to  assemble 
there,  and  to  himself  as  the  proper  schoolmaster  to  instruct  them, 
was  the  answer.  Forty-two  teachers  assembled,  including  one  minis- 
ter, and  remained,  at  their  own  expense,  six  weeks.  The  assembly 
was  characterized  by  the  same  pleasant  activity,  good  nature  and 
success,  which  had  appeared  in  Switzerland. 

In  April,  1809,  with  the  office  of  Councillor  in  the  government  of  East 
Prussia,  he  was  authorized  to  organize  the  Orphan  House  at  Konigsberg 
as  a  model  school,  in  which  young  clergymen  and  teachers  might  be  in- 
structed, with  courses  of  lectures  on  the  administration  and  instruction 
of  schools,  and  traverse  all  the  provinces  of  the  kingdom  for  similar  pur- 
poses. On  condition  that  he  should  deliver  one  more  course  of  lectures 
to  clergymen  of  all  three  confessions,  the  King  of  Wirtemberg  at  length 


KARL   AUGUST    ZELLER. 


311 


allowed  him  to  accept  the  appointment.  Fifty-two  eminent  clergy- 
men and  six  teachers  assembled,  and  remained  under  his  instruction 
during  four  weeks.  A  commission  from  the  High  Consistory  of  the 
kingdom  and  from  the  Council  of  Catholic  Clergy  held  an  examination 
upon  the  result,  and  Zeller,  accompanied  by  one  of  Pestalozzi's  pupils, 
now  for  the  first  time  proceeded  to  the  Baltic. 

The  new  organization  of  the  orphan  home  at  Konigsberg  in  a  short 
time  excited  so  much  interest,  that  a  considerable  number  of  official 
persons  were  desirous  of  some  report  upon  Zeller's  methods  and  or- 
ganization. Further ;  the  noble  and  intellectual  men  who  were  labor- 
ing with  Scharnhorst  to  reestablish  the  warlike  fame  of  Prussia, 
learned  hence  to  consider  the  relation  between  a  correct  school  disci- 
pline and  military  discipline.  October  7,  the  king,  queen  and  minis- 
try, made  a  personal  inspection  of  the  school,  and  the  dignity  of  High 
School  Councillor,  conferred  upon  the  director,  showed  their  gratifica- 
tion with  the  visit.  In  May,  1810,  the  institution  had  so  grown  that 
the  first  course  of  lectures  was  attended  by  a  hundred  and  four 
deans,  superintendents  and  pastors,  and  the  second  by  seventy  clergy- 
men and  teachers. 

In  1811,  he  organized  a  second  institution  at  Braunsberg  for  the 
province  of  Ermeland,  and  a  third  at  Karalene,  for  Lithuania.  He 
would  gladly  have  remained  in  the  latter  pleasant  place,  but  his  official 
duties  would  not  permit.  He  was  intending  to  go  to  Stettin  also,  but 
the  approach  of  Napoleon's  expedition  to  Russia  prevented.  An  "  ex- 
traordinary compensation  "  was  now  decreed  him,  in  consequence  of 
this  disappointment,  and  as  a  testimony  of  the  satisfaction  of  the  king 
and  the  ministry  with  the  results  of  his  exertions  in  East  and  West 
Prussia  and  Lithuania.  This  was  the  gift  of  the  domain  of  Munster- 
walde,  near  Marienwerder,  on  the  condition  that  he  should  continue  to 
perform  the  functions  of  his  appointment.  He  accordingly  pub- 
lished a  manual  for  the  Prussian  army-schools,  and  a  work  upon  his 
experiments  in  organizing  the  school  of  correction  at  Graudenz,  con- 
taining a  statement  of  the  methods  upon  which  all  his  labors  hitherto 
had  been  conducted. 

For  several  years  Zeller  resided  at  Kreutznach,  Wetzlar  and 
Bonn,  busily  engaged  in  writing  and  in  the  support  of  his  numerous 
family.  His  only  son  devoted  himself  to  the  study  of  theology  at 
Bonn,  and  at  the  same  place,  his  wife,  the  mother  of  his  seven  chil- 
dren, died.  He  became  desirous  of  revisiting  his  native  country ; 
and,  having  been  raised  by  the  King  of  Prussia  to  the  third  class  of 
the  "  red  order  of  nobility,"  he  removed  to  Stuttgart  in  1834.  His 
last  labors  were  devoted  to  his  own  country ;  the  institution  at 


312 


ZELLER. 


Lichtenstein  owes  to  him  its  foundation  and  progress,  a  building 
worth  eleven  hundred  florins,  and  continued  care  and  advocacy.  The 
requirements  of  his  situation  obliged  him  to  remove  to  Stuttgart  again 
in  the  autumn  of  1837. 

His  very  busy  and  varied  life  came  to  an  end  in  the  beginning  of 
the  year  1847,  while  he  was  absent  from  home  on  a  short  journey ;  a 
life  that  knew  no  rest,  and  whose  quiet  pulses  often  seemed  like  rest- 
less wandering ;  a  life  which,  without  despising  an  open  recognition 
of  its  deserts,  yet  often  forgot  itself  in  true  sacrifices  for  the  sake  of 
doing  good  ;  that  willingly  bestowed  its  strength  wherever  any  benefi- 
cial purpose  was  to  be  served,  and  especially  if  any  alleviations  in  the 
condition  of  the  children  of  the  poor  common  people  were  in  prospect. 
His  mission  was,  not  to  maintain  and  carry  on  an  enterprise  already 
commenced,  with  long-suffering  and  victorious  patience  and  constancy, 
but  rather  to  erect  edifices  upon  waste  and  desert  ground  for  others 
to  furnish.  Especially  valuable  for  young  theologians  are  the  many 
stirring  thoughts  contained  in  his  "Thomas,  or  John  and  Paul?" 
published  in  1833.  The  desire  and  labor  of  his  life  was  to  improve 
the  common  schools.  The  study  of  singing  in  that  class  of  Prussian 
schools  began  with  him.  He  was  energetic,  not  only  in  introducing 
new  discoveries  in  pedagogical  science,  but  also  in  independently  sift- 
ing and  ingeniously  improving  its  principles  already  accepted. 

Zeller's  best  known  educational  works,  as  given  in  Hergang's 
'  Manual  of  Pedagogical  Literature"  are  : 

The  Schoolmaster  School ;  or,  instructions  in  school  education  on 
the  plan  of  the  institutions  for  saving  children  (Kinder-Rettungsan- 
stalt).  Leipzig,  1839. 

Elementary  Schools;  their  personal,  local  and  administrative  organi- 
zation. Konigsberg,  1815. 

The  Evangel  of  Jesus  Christ ;  or  his  character  as  such ;  not  de- 
veloped chronologically,  but  in  its  various  elements  and  relations  ;  as 
exhibited  in  a  harmony  of  the  four  gospels.  Stuttgart,  1839. 

Methods  of  Learning,  for  use  of  common  schools  on  the  mutual 
system. 

Eleme7itary  Geometry  for  Common  Schools.  Three  parts.  Stutt- 
gart, 1839. 

Elementary  Singing-Book  for  Common  Schools.  Three  parts. 
Stuttgart,  1839. 


JOHN  ERNST  PLAMANN. 


JOHN  ERNST  PLAMANN,  an  earnest  and  influential  teacher  and 
apostle  of  the  Pestalozzian  system,  in  Prussia,  was  born  on  the  22d 
of  June,  1771,  at  Repzin,  of  poor  but  respectable  parents  of  the 
burgher  class,  and  received  his  elementary  education  at  the  Royal 
Real  School  in  Berlin,  from  which  he  was  removed  to  the  Joachims- 
thai  Gymnasium,  then  under  the  charge  of  the  celebrated  Meierotto 
In  1796  he  resorted  to  Halle  to  study  theology,  and  at  the  same  time 
acquire  the  principles  of  pedagogy  under  Niemeyer.  After  spending 
a  few  years  as  a  private  tutor  in  the  family  of  his  brother-in-law,  and 
passing  his  examination  for  a  license  to  teach,  he  returned  to  Berlin, 
to  continue  his  classical  studies,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  give  instruc- 
tion in  the  Messow  Institute  and  other  industrial  schools,  preparatory 
to  founding  one  of  the  same  class  for  himself. 

At  this  time  the  fame  of  Pestalozzi  had  spread  into  Germany,  and 
Plamann  resolved  to  see  for  himself  the  great  schoolmaster  who  was 
so  extravagantly  praised  and  beloved.  Having  read  "  How  Gertrude 
teaches  her  Children"  he  could  not  rest ;  but,  borrowing  some  money  to 
pay  his  expenses,  he  set  out  in  May,  1803,  for  Switzerland ;  having 
announced  his  intention  to  Pestalozzi  in  a  letter,  from  which  the 
following  is  an  extract : 

Thanks  is  a  powerless  word  to  express  the  enthusiasm  which  your  letters 
upon  instruction  have  kindled  in  me.  But  you  will  not  despise  my  utterance  ; 
indeed  you  will  not  hear  it,  amid  the  loud  praises  which  nations  are  giving  you. 
Of  that  your  heart  assures  me,  noble  man,  who  have  so  acutely  and  truly  dis- 
played the  inmost  laws  of  the  development  of  the  human  soul,  and  with  a  wise 
and  strong  hand  laid  out  the  path  and  the  art  of  training  it.  You  have  so 
radiated  upon  me  the  light  of  truth,  and  so  inspired  my  breast,  that  I  also  feel 
the  sacred  call  to  labor  in  my  fatherland  to  the  same  end,  according  to  my 
powers.  The  saying  of  our  great  teacher,  "Many  are  called,  but  few 
chosen,"  shall  not  discourage  me  if  I  can  enjoy  your  instructions  and  wise 
direction.  With  that  I  can  escape  from  the  old,  lifeless,  beaten  track,  which  I 
have  been  obliged  to  follow  in  my  labor  as  a  teacher,  and  will  be  able  to  do 
something  in  the  necessary  work  of  teaching  the  neglected  to  elevate  them- 
selves. 0,  if  you  will  give  me  power  ;  if  you  will  make  me  an  example  of 
your  methods  ;  if  you  will  instruct  me  thoroughly  in  your  system  ;  then  I 
hope,  with  confidence  and  success,  to  sow  the  seed  which  your  benevolence  shall 
have  entrusted  to  me,  &c. 

Pestalozzi  was  then  at  Burgdorf.     There  soon  sprung  up  between 
him  and  Plamann  a  friendship  based  upon  mutual  appreciation ;  for 
Plamann,  with  his  thorough  knowledge  of  the  labor  of  former  schools 
16 


JOHN    ERNST    PLAMANN. 

in  pedagogy,  his  scientific  attainments,  his  philosophical  intellect  and 
psychological  insight,  was  a  valuable  supplementary  person  to  the 
Swiss  reformer,  who  had  only  his  own  experience  of  the  results  of  his 
always  original  mental  action.  The  latter  candidly  explained  to  him 
what  he  was  seeking,  both  by  means  of  written  and  oral  communica- 
tion, until  he  understood  him  and  his  system  thoroughly.  Plamann 
writes : 

Pestalozzi  received  me  like  a  father.  No  man  ever  looked  so  quickly  and 
deeply  into  my  soul  as  he.  At  once  he  comprehended  my  whole  being,  and 
pressed  me  to  his  breast  with  the  warmth  of  a  brother.  At  his  side  I  learned 
to  feel  how  many  were  my  faults  as  a  man.  I  was  modest,  and  told  him  of  my 
discovery  with  tearful  eyes.  **  You  are  a  child  of  nature,"  he  answei*ed  ;  "  an 
adept  in  the  rules  of  science  and  art,  which  I  am  not  ;  and  which,  never- 
theless, a  man  must  be  in  this  world."  Thus  he  used  to  encourage  me  to  have 
more  confidence  in  myself.  A  poem  which  I  gave  bim  moved  him  to  tears.  He 
smothered  me  with  kisses,  and  said,  "  No  one  has  understood  me  so  well." 

Plamann  remained  several  months  in  Burgdorf,  laboring  zealously 
at  the  new  method ;  and  became  so  dear  to  Pestalozzi,  that  he  could 
not  endure  to  have  him  depart,  and  even  offered  him  money  sufficient  to 
enable  him  to  bring  his  betrothed  to  Switzerland.  But  he  was  impa- 
tient to  introduce  the  new  method  into  his  fatherland.  Immediately 
after  his  return  to  Berlin,  Plamann  proceeded  to  put  his  newly-gotten 
knowledge  into  practice  in  the  institution  where  he  was  teaching,  and 
to  apply  the  method  also  to  other  subjects.  He  maintained  a  regular 
correspondence  with  Pestalozzi  and  his  assistants,  especially  with 
Niederer.  The  Swiss  took  the  utmost  interest  in  his  labors,  kept  him 
acquainted  with  their  researches,  and  awaited  with  solicitude  the 
result  of  his  undertakings. 

In  1805  Plamann  published  his  work,  "  Some  Principles  of  the 
art  of  Instruction  according  to  Pestalozzi 's  Method,  applied  to  Natu- 
ral History,  Geography,  and  Language"  (Einzige  Grundregel  der 
Unterrichtskunst  nach  Pestalozzi's  Methode,  angewandt  in  der  Na- 
turgeschichte.  Geographic  und  Sprache.}  In  this  publication,  he 
showed  upon  what  a  deep  psychological  basis  Pestalozzi's  system 
rested,  and  how  it  is  necessarily  derived  from  the  laws  of  human 
thought.  While,  however,  they  commence  with  the  same  principles, 
follow  them  out  with  like  results,  and  in  like  manner  connect  them 
with  others,  their  related  ones,  Plamann  differs  from  Pestalozzi  on  the 
view  laid  down  in  the  "Book  for  Mothers"  that  education  should  begin 
with  instruction  on  the  human  body,  on  the  ground  that  the  similarity 
of  it  with  the  bodies  of  animals  does  not  much  concern  the  child,  and 
that  instruction  by  a  teacher  should  not  be  given  so  early.  He 
thought  it  more  proper  for  the  mother  to  teach  the  child  about  such 
objects  as  are  within  the  sphere  of  the  child's  knowledge ;  —  the 


JOHN    ERNST    PLAMANN.  315 

house,  furniture,  clothes,  &c.  He  then  proceeds  to  apply  the  method 
to  the  three  departments  of  natural  history,  to  geography,  and  to  the 
German  language.  He  promised  in  the  second  part  to  continue  the 
course  of  instructions  on  language  and  geography,  as  well  as  on  tech- 
nology and  history ;  but  this  has  never  been  published. 

On  account  of  his  high  standing  with  Pestalozzi,  his  zeal  in  study- 
ing the  method,  and  in  extending  it  by  his  writings,  he  became  a 
centre  for  the  operations  of  those  who  were  following  the  new  views  in 
Prussia,  and  were  endeavoring  to  spread  them  there.  All  applied  to 
him  for  directions,  school-books,  plans  for  schools,  and  information  as 
to  the  spread  and  results  of  the  new  method;  and  he  was  also  in 
communication  with  persons  in  foreign  countries. 

Soon  after  his  return  to  Prussia  from  Switzerland,  Plamann  under- 
took himself  to  found  an  institution  for  the  practice  of  Pestalozzi's 
methods.  For  this  he  obtained  the  royal  permission,  Nov.  29, 1803,  and 
opened  the  institution  at  Michaelmas,  1805,  with  his  friend  Schmidt ; 
obtaining  also,  soon  after,  an  assistant  from  Switzerland,  Breissig  by 
name.  His  undertaking  drew  much  attention,  and  proved  quite  suc- 
cessful. In  the  following  year  he  published  two  instructive  works : 

"  Course  of  Instruction  for  a  Pestalozzian  School  for  Boys." 
(Anord7iuny  des  Unterrichts  fur  ein  Pestalozzische  Knaben  Schule.) 

" Elementary  Methods  of  Instruction  in  Language  and  Science" 
(Elementarformen,  Sprach-u.  wissenschaftlichm  Unterrichtskunst.) 

At  Easter,  1812,  Plamann  gave  up  his  school,  and  visited  once 
more  his  beloved  Pestalozzi,  to  make  himself  acquainted  with  the 
progress  of  the  method,  and  to  observe  what  was  going  on  in  the 
schools  of  Switzerland.  Upon  his  return  he  at  once  commenced  again 
to  "  Pestalozzianize,"  as  he  expressed  himself,  and  bought  a  house  in 
Berlin,  in  which  to  erect  an  institution.  In  the  same  year  he  com- 
menced a  publication,  which  he  finished  in  1815,  entitled,  "  Contribu- 
tions to  Pedagogical  Criticism  ;  in  Defence  of  the  Pestalozzian  Meth- 
od" (Beitrage  zur  P ddagogischen  Kritik  ;  zur  Vertheidigung  der 
Pestalozzischen  Methode  ) 

A  full  description  of  his  new  Pestalozzian  institution  will  be  found 
in  the  "  Biography  of  Plamann,  by  Doctor  Franz  Bredow"  Pla- 
mann adhered  closely  to  the  Pestalozzian  principles  throughout ;  pro- 
ceeding strictly  according  to  the  forms  of  the  Swiss  at  first,  but  using 
more  and  more  independent  methods  as  he  went  on.  His  school  was 
resorted  to  by  young  men  from  all  quarters,  who  were  ambitious  to 
understand  and  disseminate  the  improved  methods  of  teaching,  and 
he  was  never  more  popular  than  when  he  gave  up  his  school  from 
•the  pressure  of  bodily  infirmities,  against  which  he  had  long  struggled. 
He  died  on  the  3d  of  September,  1834. 


FRIEDRICH  ADOLF   WILHELM  DIESTERWEG. 


FRIEDRICH  ADOLF  WILHELM  DIESTERWEG,  an  eminent  educator, 
and  efficient  promoter  of  the  general  principles  of  Pestalozzi,  was- 
born  in  the  then  Rhine  provinces  of  Prussia,  at  Seigen,  in  Nassau, 
October  29th,  1790.  His  first  education  was  received  at  the 
Latin  school  of  his  native  place.  Thence  he  went  to  the  univers- 
ity of  Herborn,  intending  to  devote  himself  to  the  study  of  theol- 
ogy ;  but  his  academic  course  was  finished  at  Tubingen.  At  first  a 
private  tutor  in  Manheim,  he  was  afterward  second  teacher  in  the 
secondary  school  at  Worms;  and  in  1811  entered  the  model  school 
at  Frankfort-on-the-Mayne,  where  his  holy  zeal  accomplished  muck 
good.  Having  become  known  as  a  scientifically-trained  and  well- 
practiced  educator,  he  was  chosen  second  rector  of  the  Latin  school 
at  Elberfeld.  From  this  place  he  was  called,  in  1820,  to  be  director 
of  the  teachers'  seminary  at  Meurs.  In  this  place  he  labored  with 
intelligence,  energy,  and  singleness  of  purpose,  during  a  series  of 
years,  for  the  cause  of  elementary  instruction,  which,  under  the 
French  domination,  had  been  entirely  neglected  on  the  Rhine,  lie 
was,  moreover,  very  useful  as  a  writer— discussing  more  particularly 
mathematics  and  the  German  language.  In  1827,  he  commenced 
publishing  (by  Schwerz,  in  Schwelin,)  the  "  Rhenish  Gazette  of 
Education  and  Instruction  "  (Rheinische  Blatter  fur  Erziebung  und 
Unterricht,)  with  especial  reference  to  the  common  schools.  The  first 
volume  contained  much  valuable  matter,  much  condensed  ;  and  the 
succeeding  volumes  (to  ]  859,)  have  not  fallen  beneath  it  in  excel- 
lence. Through  this  periodical,  the  educationists  of  the  Rhine  prov- 
inces were  afforded  a  good  opportunity  for  discussing  pedagogical 
subjects;  upon  which  much  interest  was  then  beginning  to  appear. 

In  1833,  Diesterweg  was  appointed  director  of  the  royal  seminary 
for  city  teachers,  at  Berlin.  Here  he  labored  for  eighteen  years ;  his 
eyes  fixed  fast  and  unvarying  upon  his  object — exposing  all  sorts  of 
pedagogical  faults  and  weaknesses,  seeking  in  every  way  to  raise  the 
position  of  teachers,  and  pursuing  his  work  without  any  fear  of  men. 
The  meetings  of  the  Pedagogical  Society  of  Berlin  were  set  on  foot 
by  him.  In  1849,  his  connection  with  the  seminary  was  terminated. 
by  the  government,  in  eorisoipK-nre  of  his  popular  sympathies  iu 
10 


FRIEDR1CH  ADOLF  WILIIELM  DIESTERWEG  317 

•1848.  During  this  period,  Diesterweg  published  "  Autobiographies 
of  Distinguished  Educators  f  "  Education  of  the  Lower  Classes" 
"  Degeneracy  of  our  Universities"  "  Education  for  Patriotism,  <kc." 
u  Controversial  Inquiries  on  Educational  Subjects."'  In  these  writ- 
ings, Diesterweg  appears  as  a  man  of  progress  ;  as  one  who  seeks  to 
reconcile  the  existing  discrepancy  between  actual  life  and  learning ; 
etween  living  practice  and  dead  scholastic  knowledge ;  between 
ivilization  and  learning.  The  works  contain  true  and  striking 
thoughts.  In  his  zeal  for  good  objects,  the  author  sometimes  over- 
passed the  bounds  of  moderation,  and  assailed  the  objects  of  his 
opposition  with  too  much  severity. 

His  " Pedagogical  Travels  through  the  Danish  Territories"  (Pad- 
agogische  Reise  Nachden  Ddnischen  Staaten,)  1836,  involved  him  in 
an  active  controversy  with  several  Danish  literati,  and  especially  with 
Zerrenner,  of  Magdeburg.  Diesterweg's  objections  to  the  monitorial 
system  of  instruction,  which  prevails  in  the  schools  of  Denmark, 
are  : — That  it  modifies,  decreases,  or  destroys  the  teacher's  influence 
upon  his  scholars  ;  that  it  is  disadvantageous  to  their  outward  and 
inward  intercourse ;  reduces  to  a  minimum  the  precious  period  of 
•close  intercourse  between  the  ripe  man  and  the  future  men  ;  and 
sinks  the  school,  in  by  far  the  majority  of  cases,  into  a  mere  mindless 
mechanism,  by  which  the  children,  it  is  true,  acquire  facility  in 
reading  and  writing,  and  in  a  manner  outwardly  vivid  and  active, 
vbut  in  reality  altogether  unintelligent;  but  become  intellectually 
active  not  at  all.  That  Diesterweg  is  in  the  right  in  this  matter,  is 
daily  more  extensively  believed. 

In  1846,  Dr.  Diesterweg  took  an  early  and  influential  part  in  the 
celebration  by  German  teachers  of  the  centennial  birthday  of  Pes- 
talozzi,  and  in  founding  an  institution  for  orphans,  as  a  living  and 
appropriate  monument  to  the  great  regenerator  of  modern  popular 
education. 

His  "  Year  Book"  or  "  Almanac"  (Jahrbach,}  which  commenced 
m  1851,  is  a  valuable  contribution  to  the  current  discussion  of  educa- 
tional topics,  and  to  the  history  of  the  literature  and  biography  of 
education. 

Diesterweg's  "  Guide  for  German  Teachers"  ( Wegweiser  fur 
Deutscher  Schrer,)  of  which  a  third  enlarged  and  improved  edition 
appeared  in  1854,  in  two  large  volumes,  is  one  of  the  best  existing 
manuals  for  teachers,  of  both  elementary  and  high  schools,  and  has 
been  made  a  text-book  in  several  teachers'  seminaries.  We  give  the 
•contents  of  this  valuable  "  Guide" 


318  DIESTERWEG'S   WEGWEISER. 

DIESTERWEG,  F.  A.  W.,  "  Guide  for  German  Teachers,"  Wegweis&r  fur  Deuischer 
Schrer.     2  vols.  pp.  675  and  700. 

CONTENTS.    VOL.   I. 

INTRODUCTION ,  i. 

1.  Dedication  to  F.  FrObel HI 

2.  Preface  to  Third  and  Fourth  editions VII. 

3.  From  the  address  to  Denzel,  in  the  Second  edition XIV 

4.  From  Preface  to  First  edition XIX. 

5.  From  Preface  to  Second  edition XXIV. 

6.  Conclusion XXXII 

PART    I. 
GENERAL   VIEWS. 

I.  Purpose  and  problem  of  human  life,  and  the  teacher's  life 4. 

II.  What  are  the  conditions  of  success  in  endeavoring  to  secure,  by  means  of  books,  intellect- 
ual culture,  insight,  and  knowledge 19. 

III.  Introduction  to  the  study  of  elements  of  pedagogy,  didactics  and  methodology 49 

1.  To  whom  these  studies  are  especially  recommended,  and  to  whom  not 49' 

2.  What  has  hitherto  been  accomplished  in  such  books  as  have  been  devoted  to  peda- 

gogy, didactics,  and  methodology  in  general,  or  with  special  reference  to  the  element- 
ary •chools 52 

3.  The  chief  constituents  of  the  ideas  of  pedagogy,  didactics,  and  methodology . .  58 

4    The  best  works  on  the  elements  of  pedagogy,  didactics,  and  methodology 60 

(1.)  On  education  (and  instruction,)  generally 62 

(2.)  On  the  whole  subject  of  school  education  and  instruction 82 

(3.)  On  school  discipline 99 

(4.)  Psychology  and  logic 104 

(5.)  Training  of  teachers  (seminaries) 107 

(6.)  Education  of  girls Ill 

(7.)  Relations  of  school  to  state  and  church 119 

(8.)  School  inspection 000 

(9.)  Social  pedagogy,  (social  reforms,  temperance,  &c.) 124 

(10.)  Infant  schools 129. 

(11.)  Mutual  system  of  school  organization 135 

(12.)  Higher  burgher  schools 138 

(13.)  Bibliography 143 

(14.)  Works  which  include  biographies 145 

(15.)  Popular  writings 151 

(16.)  School  laws 156 

(17.)  School  reform 157 

(18.)  School  organization  in  1848 162 

(19.)  Periodicals ' 168 

IV    Human  faculties,  and  didactics 172 

1.  Rules  for  instruction,  as  to  the  scholar  (the  subject) 204 

2.  Rules  as  to  what  is  taught  (the  object) 254 

3.  Rules  as  to  external  relations 268 

4   P  n'es  as  to  the  teacher 278 

PART   II. 

SPECIAL    DEPARTMENTS. 

I.  Intuitional  instruction;  exercises  in  language 302 

II.  Religious  instruction;  by  K.  Bormann,  of  Berlin 332 

III.  Reading 381 

IV.  German  language 456 

V.  Writing;  by  Prof.  Dr.  MSdler,  and  C.  Reinbott,  of  Berlin 532 

VI.  Singing;  by  Hentschel,  of  Weissenfels 559 

VII.  Drawing;  by  Heutschel 672 

VOL.    II. 

VIII.  Geography ;  by  K.  Bormann 3 

IX.  History ;  by  W.  Prange,  of  Bunzlau 40 

X.  Natural  History ;  by  A.  Liiben,  of  Merseburg 251 

XI.  Natural  Science,  mathematical  geography,  astronomy 306 

XII.  Arithmetic 343 

XIII.  Geometry 395 

XIV.  French;  by  Dr.  Knebel,  of  (Kffln)  Cologne 436 

XV.  English;  by  Dr.  Schmitz,  of  Berlin 477 

XVI.  Genetic  method  in  foreign  languages ;  by  Dr.  Mager,  of  Eisenach 492 

XVII.  Instruction  of  the  blind  ;  by  J.  G.  Knie,  of  Breslau 567 

XVIII.  Instruction  of  the  deaf-mutes ;  by  "Hill,  of  Weissenfels 601 

XIX.  Love  of  country,  patriotism,  and  connected  subjects 675 

XX.  External  situation  of  the  German  common  school  teachers 727 

XXI.  School  discipline— plan  of  teaching  and  of  work 770 

APPENDIX  ;  by  G.  Hentschel J'.ll 

List  of  authors  mentioned     .    „  .  . 795: 


BERNHARD   GOTTLIEB  DENZEL. 


BERNHARD  GOTTLIEB  DENZEL,  an  influential  promoter  of  Pestaloz- 
zianism  in  the  Kingdom  of  Wirtemberg  and  the  Duchy  of  Nassau,, 
was  born  at  Stuttgardt,  on  the  29th  of  December,  1773.  His  father 
was  a  merchant  and  associate-judge,  and  secured  for  his  son  the  best 
education  which  the  gymnasia  and  university  of  the  kingdom  could 
give.  After  studying  theology  at  Tubingen,  under  the  profound  Dr. 
Storr,  he  commenced  his  pedagogical  career  as  private  tutor  in  Frank - 
fort-on-the-Maine.  After  two  years'  experience  in  that  capacity,  he 
served  five  years  as  curate  and  preacher  in  Pleidelsheim,  where  he 
exhibited  an  enthusiastic  interest  in  the  schools,  and  took  the  lead  in 
introducing  the  new  Pestalozzian  system  into  Wirtemberg.  His  de- 
cided and  influential  labors  in  this  work  involved  him,  for  a  time,  in 
bitter  controversy  with  many  old-fashioned  schoolmasters,  and  munic- 
ipal ties  ;  but  he  was  sustained  by  the  higher  authorities.  He  made 
himself  perfectly  familiar  with  the  publications  of  Pestalozzi,  and  vis- 
ited both  Burgdorf  and  Yverdun,  to  observe  the  practical  operations 
of  the  system.  Deeply  in  earnest  himself,  with  a  thorough  practical 
knowledge  of  existing  wants,  and  desirable  remedies,  with  a  concil- 
iatory manner,  and  the  confidence  of  all  religious  men,  Denzel  made 
more  rapid  progress  than  is  usual  with  school  reformers  ;  but,  as  has 
been  alreadv  remarked,  he  did  not  entirely  escape  the  opposition  of 
pctrties  whose  craft  was  interfered  with. 

In  1811,  Denzel  was  appointed  director  of  the  Seminary  for  Teach- 
ers in  Esslingen,  and  of  the  public  schools  in  that  circle.  Under  his 
oversight,  the  seminary  and  the  schools  made  great  progress,  and  were 
resorted  to  by  teachers  and  educators  as  good  working-models  of  the 
new  system  of  instruction.  In  1817,  having  obtained  leave  of  ab- 
sence for  this  purpose,  he  assisted  in  reorganizing  the  school  system 
of  the  Duchy  of  Nassau,  and  establishing  the  Teachers'  Seminary 
at  Idstein,  and  received,  for  his  service,  the  appointment  of  Ducal 
high  school  councilor,  and  the  title  and  rank  of  prelate. 

After  performing  good  service  to  the  cause  of  popular  education 
throughout  Germany,  not  only  through  the  improvements  introduced 
into  the  schools  of  Nassau  and  Wirtemberg,  but  by  his  writings  oa 
the  science  and  art  of  teaching,  he  d:ed,  in  the  autumn  of  1838, 
universally  respected  and  beloved. 


•320  BERNHARD  GOTTLIEB  DENZEL. 

As  a  teacher,  Director  Denzel  was  distinguished  by  great  quicknesa 
and  clearness  of  understanding  and  expression,  and  by  mildness,  firm- 
ness, and  justness  in  discipline.  One  who  was  for  nineteen  years  as- 
sociated with  him  in  the  Seminary  at  Esslingen  says  : — "  Universally 
learned  and  completely  master  of  every  subject  of  instruction  in  the 
schools  with  which  he  was  connected  as  teacher  or  inspector,  his  rare 
knowledge  of  the  best  method  of  communicating  what  he  knew,  en- 
abled him  to  carry  forward  the  best  as  well  as  the  weakest  minds  in 
his  classes,  with  great  satisfaction  to  all,  and  at  the  same  time  to  in- 
spire a  love  of  study,  and  impart  to  others  the  secret  of  his  own  suc- 
cess as  a  teacher."  His  principal  pedagogical  works  are  "  Experiences 
and  Opinions  on  the  Professional  Training  of  Common  School  Teach- 
ers ;  "  "  The  Common  School — a  course  of  lectures  on  Methodology  at 
Idstein,  in  1816 ;"  "  Introduction  to  the  Science  and  Art  of  Educa- 
tion and  Instruction  of  Masters  of  Primary  Schools.""  The  last 
named  is  a  great  work,  and  holds  a  high  place  in  the  pedagogical 
literature  of  Germany. 


WILHELM    HARNISCH 


WILHELM  HARNISCH  was  born,  August  28th,  1787,  at  Wilsnach,  in 
the  Prussian  government  of  Potsdam — the  only  son  of  a  prosperous 
master-tailor,  who  intended  him  for  the  study  of  theology,  and  accord- 
ingly placed  him  at  the  gymnasium  in  Salzwedel  in  1800,  and  caused 
him  to  study  from  1806  to  1808  at  Halle  and  Frankfort-on-the-Oder. 
Here  he  already  began  to  devote  himself  particularly  to  the  study  of 
pedagogy,  and  very  soon  commenced  the  practice  of  it,  taking  a  situ- 
ation as  private  tutor  in  a  distinguished  family  in  Mecklenburg,  where 
a  well-selected  library  was  at  his  command,  and  Rousseau's  "  Emile  " 
was  the  favorite  study  of  the  accomplished  mistress  of  the  family.  In 
1810  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  summoned  to  Berlin,  in  order  to 
be  made  acquainted  with  the  Pestalozzian  system  in  Plamann's  insti 
tution,  at  the  expense  of  the  State.  Here,  in  the  society  of  Fichte, 
Schleiermacher,  Kopfe,  Zeune,  Jahn,  Kloden,  and  other  eminent  liter- 
ati, statesmen,  and  educators,  he  completed  his  higher  scientific  edu- 
cation, and  also  took  an  active  part  in  the  first  establishment  of  the 
fencing  school,  and  the  gymnastic  and  swimming  institutions.  In 
1812  he  took  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Philosophy,  married  the 
•daughter  of  a  landed  proprietor  in  Russian  Lithuania,  and  became 
favorably  known  by  his  first  work,  "  The  German  Common  Schools" 
Being  appointed  teacher  in  the  new  Teachers'  Seminary  at  Breslau, 
.established  upon  Pestalozzi's  principles,  he  introduced,  with  excellent 
results,  a  system  of  instruction  in  reading  and  writing,  which  he  also 
made  known  in  various  publications.  While  here  he  also  wholly 
originated  or  took  part  in  various  academical  labors ;  established  a 
Society  of  Teachers,  took  partial  charge  of  the  education  of  Princess 
Charlotte,  afterward  Empress  of  Russia,  and  lived  in  friendlv  inter- 
course with  Professors  Schneider,  Wachler,  Steffens,  Passow,  Kapler, 
&c.  In  1822  he  was  appointed  director  of  the  Teachers'  Seminary 
at  Weissenfels,  to  which  he  gave  a  reputation  second  to  no  other  in 
Germany,  and  which  is  well  known  in  this  country,  through  the  Re- 
ports of  Stowe,  Bache,  and  Mann. 

In  1834  he  received  from  the  King  of  Prussia  the  red  order  of 
nobility,  fourth  class ;  has  received  honorary  gifts  from  the  Emperoi 
and  Empress  of  Russia,  and  other  royal  personages ;  besides  pecuni- 
ary means  for  various  pedagogical  journeys.  In  1837  he  was  com- 
plimented by  his  colleagues  and  scholars  with  the  celebration  of  a 


322  WILHELM  HARNISCH. 

jubilee  on  occasion  of  the  twenty-fifth  anniversary  of  his  labors  as  a 
teacher.  He  has  rendered  distinguished  services  toward  the  perfec- 
tion of  the  common  school  system  of  Prussia,  by  his  manifold  prac- 
tical and  literary  labors. 

The  principal  of  his  numerous  writings  are  the  following : — 

THE  GERMAN  COMMON  SCHOOLS  (Die  Deutscher  VoUcsschulen,)  Berlin,  1812. 

COMPLETE  INSTRUCTION  IN  GERMAN  ( VoUsiandiger  Unterricht  in  der  Devtschen 
Sprache,)  Breslau,  1814. 

COMPLETE  EXPOSITION  OP  THE  BELL-LANOASTERIAN  SYSTEM  (Ausfuhrliche  Dar- 
stellung  des  Bett- Lancaster schen  Schulwesens,)  Breslau,  1819. 

LIFE  OP  THE  TUTOR  FELIX  KASKORBI  (a  pedagogical  romance,)  (Das  Leben  des 
Eauslehrers  Felix  KaskorU,  ein  pddagogischer  Roman,)  Breslau,  1820. 

HAND-BOOK  FOR  THE  GERMAN  SCHOOL  SYSTEM  (Handbuch  fur  das  Deutsche 
Vblksschulwesen,)  Breslau,  1820. 

THE  EDUCATION  AND  SCHOOL  COUNCILOR  (Die  Erziehungs-und  Schulrath.), 
24  parts.  Breslau,  1815  to  1820. 

THE  COMMON  SCHOOL  TEACHER,  (five  years,)  (Die  VoUcsschullehrer,)  (5  jahr- 
gauge,)  Halle,  1824  to  1828. 

THE  GERMAN  BURGHER  SCHOOLS  (Die  Detttsche  Burgerschuk,)  Halle,  1830. 

THE  WEISSENFELS  SEMINARY  (Das  Weissenfelser  Seminar,)  Berlin,  1838.  (Con- 
taining an  autobiograph  sketch.) 


HERMANN  KEU8I. 


HERMANN  KRUSI  was  born  March  12th,  1775,  at  Gais,  in  the 
canton  of  Appenzell.  Of  his  parents  he  writes  in  his  "Recollections," 
"they  are  entitled  to  the  praise  of  having  passed  through  life  in  quiet 
goodness  and  fear  of  God,  and  were  careful  to  give  their  children  a 
good  education."  After  the  good  old  fashion,  they  often  read  in 
the  family  Bible,  and  entered  in  its  blank  leaves  the  birth  of  each 
of  their  children,  together  with  some  pious  prayer  or  saying.  They 
also  amused  themselves,  especially  on  Sundays,  by  singing  from  the 
then  popular  "  Bachofen."  Of  learning  they  could  of  course  give 
their  poor  children  but  very  little,  and  what  they  afterward  acquired 
in  school  was  but  little  more.  His  earliest  recollections  was  of^a  fire 
which  laid  the  village  of  Gais  in  ashes ;  of  which  he  thus  speaks : — 

It  is  natural  that  the  first  recollections  of  the  mind  should  ba  of  uncommon  and 
striking  events,  such  as  make  a  profound  impression  upon  one's  whole  being,  and 
leave  an  indelible  mark  upon  the  character.  This  was  the  case  with  myself. 

On  the  7th  of  September,  1780,  a  violent  south  wind  blew  •  bad  weather  for  the 
weavers,  but  good  for  drying  turf.  "  I  will  go  to  the  turf-ground  and  turn  and 
dry  the  turf,"  said  my  father;  "there  is  nothing  to  do  in  the  weaving-room.'r 
He  took  me  with  him  that  day  for  the  first  time  to  the  turf-pits,  which  were  a 
good  four  miles  from  the  village.  At  half  past  eleven  he  heard  the  sound  of  a 
bell.  "  It  can  not  be  striking  noon  yet,"  he  thought,  looking  at  his  work — "  Ah 
God,"  he  cried,  "  it  is  the  alarm  bell ;"  and  we  heard  the  cry  of  fire  !  fire !  from 
all  sides. 

With  this  fragment,  unfortunately,  ends  the  account.  The  fact  of 
the  fire  is  well  known.  Notwithstanding  his  youth,  our  subject 
remembered  many  occurrences  of  that  occasion ;  especially  the 
next  Sunday's  service  under  the  open  sky.  There  was  very  general 
emotion,  which,  at  the  rather  remarkable  choice  of  the  hymn,  "As- 
by  the  streams  of  Babylon  we  sat,"  <fec.,  broke  out  into  such  loud 
lamentations  that  the  singing  could  not  proceed.  These  recollections 
may  well  have  been  terrible  to  the  boy,  although  his  father's  house 
was  spared  by  the  flames.  But  a  severer  stroke  came  upon  him, 
when  his  father,  in  the  prime  of  his  manhood,  was  suddenly  snatched 
away  by  death  from  his  numerous  family.  He  had  always  supported 
his  own  household,  and  had  taught  them  according  to  his  ability ; 
and  it  is  difficult  to  tell  what  would  have  become  of  them,  had  not 
si,  then  in  his  fourteenth  year,  undertaken  to  perform  his  father's-., 


824  HERMANN    KlUJSl. 

laborious  duties  of  village  errand-man  and  weaver;  a  service  for 
which  the  consciousness  that  he  was  the  trust  and  stay  of  an  orphaned 
family  gave  him  strength.  Upon  his  solitary  errands  to  St.  Gall,  and 
elsewhere,  he  used  to  recite  to  himself  the  instruction  and  counsel 
which  his  father  had  q;vsr. 

Kriisi  might  have  passed  his  whole  life  in  his  father's  monotonous 
calling,  had  not  a  benign  Providence  given  him  an  indication  which 
had  the  most  important  consequences  for  his  entire  future.  We  shall 
permit  Kriisi  himself  to  tell  the  story,  in  the  words  of  his  own  "  Rec- 
ollections," pp.  2-4,  which  give  other  and  deeper  views  into  his  mind 
at  that  time  :  — 

At  the  highest  point  of  the  pass,  where  the  road  turns  away  from  toward  Tro- 
gen,  my  life  also  took  another  direction.  While  earning  my  living  as  day  laborei 
and  errand-man,  I  was  carrying,  one  cold  day  in  1793,  to  the  establishment  of 
Zellweger,  with  which  I  afterward  came  into  very  different  relations,  a  great  bun- 
dle of  yarn  from  the  mountain.  As  1  stopped  to  rest,  all  dripping  with  sweat,  at 
the  .very  summit,  a  relative  met  me,  who  was  then  treasurer  of  the  town, 
one  Herr  Gruber.  After  the  usual  greetings,  the  following  conversation  ensued, 
which  I  yet  remember  as  the  turning  point  of  my  life. 

Gruber. — "  It  is  warm." 

Myself. —  "Very  warm." 

Gruber. — "  Now  that  schoolmaster  Horler  is  going  away  from  Gais,'  you  have 
a  chance  to  earn  your  bread  a  little  more  easily.  Have  you  no  desire  to  offer 
yourself  for  his  place  !  " 

Myself. — "  Wishing  will  not  help  me  much.  A  schoolmaster  must  have 
knowledge  ;  and  I  have  none." 

Gruber. — "  What  a  schoolmaster  among  us  needs  to  know,  you  at  your  age  can 
very  soon  learn." 

Myself. — "But  how,  and  where?     I  see  no  possibility  of  it." 

Gruber. — "  If  you  wish  it,  the  means  will  be  easily  found.  Consider  the  mat- 
ter ;uid  decide  upon  it." 

He  left  me.  I  now  had  abundance  of  matter  for  reflection.  But  no  ray  of 
light  came  into  my  mind,  although  the  natural  sunlight  surrounded  my  body  with 
brightness  and  warmth.  I  scarcely  felt  my  load  as  I  proceeded  along  the  ascents 
and  steeps  of  the  road.  Whatever  has  fallen  to  my  lot  since  that  moment,  I  look 
upon  as  the  fruit  of  this  conversation. 

Since  my  leaving  the  day  school,  where  I  had  learned  and  practiced  only  read- 
ing, learning  by  rote,  and  mechanical  copying,  and  while  I  was  growing  up  to 
adult  age,  I  had  so  far  forgotten  to  write,  that  I  no  longer  knew  how  to  make  all 
the  capital  letters ;  my  friend  Sonderegger  therefore  procured  me  a  copy  from  a 
teacher  in  Altstatten,  well  known  as  a  writing-master.  This  single  copy  I  wrote 
over  as  often  as  a  hundred  times,  for  the  sake  of  improving  my  handwriting. 
I  had  no  other  special  preparation  for  the  profession ;  but,  notwithstanding,  I  ven- 
tured, when  the  notice  was  given  from  the  pulpit,  to  offer  myself  as  a  candidate  for 
the  place,  with  but  small  hopes  of  obtaining  it,  but  consoling  myself  with  the 
thought  that  at  least  I  should  come  off  without  shame. 

The  day  of  examination  came.  An  elder  fellow-candidate  was  first  called  be- 
fore the  committee.  To  read  a  chapter  in  the  New  Testament  and  to  write  a  few 
lines,  occupied  him  a  full  quarter  of  an  hour.  My  turn  now  came.  The  genea- 
logical register,  from  Adam  to  Abraham,  from  the  first  book  of  Chronicles,  was 
given  me  to  read.  After  this,  chairman  Schlapfer  gave  me  an  uncut  quill,  with 
the  direction  to  write  a  few  lines.  "  What  shall  I  write  ?  "  I  said.  u  Write  the 
Lord's  Prayer,  or  whatever  you  like,"  was  the  ans^v-r.  A»  I  hid  no  knowledge 
of  composition  or  spelling,  it  may  be  imagined  how  my  writing  IOOKCU.  However 
I  was  told  to  retire.  After  a  short  consultation,  I  was,  to  my  wonder  and  pride, 
recalled  into  the  room.  Here  chairman  Schlapfer  informed  me  that  the  whole 


HERMANN  KRUSI.  325 

committee  wore  of  opinion  that  both  candidates  knew  little ;  that  the  other  was 
best  in  reading,  and  I  in  writing. 

The  other,  however,  being  over  forty  years  old,  and  I  only  eighteen,  they  had 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  I  should  learn  what  was  necessary  sooner  than  he, 
and  as  moreover  my  dwelling-house  (the  commune  had  then  no  school-house  of 
their  own)  was  better  adapted  for  a  school-house  than  his,  I  should  receive  the 
appointment.  I  was  dismissed  with  friendly  advice,  and  encouraging  hopes  of  in- 
creased pay,  if  my  exertions  should  be  satisfactory. 

Much  attention  was  excited  by  the  fact  that  my  fellow-candidate,  eight  days 
afterward,  took  a  situation  as  policeman,  in  which  he  received  three  gulden  a 
week,  while  the  schoolmaster,  who  was  obliged  to  furnish  his  own  school-room, 
had  to  satisfy  himself  with  two  and  a  half. 

Kriisi,  becoming  schoolmaster  at  the  age  of  scarcely  eighteen,  was 
destined  to  bear  a  responsibility  almost  greater  than  that  which  he 
had  so  lately  laid  down.  This  will  easily  be  understood  when  it  is 
known  that,  with  his  small  knowledge  of  school  matters,  he  had  to 
manage  and  teach  more  than  one  hundred  scholars,  of  various  ages 
and  both  sexes,  in  the  small  school-room.  In  this  situation  many 
would  have  labored  only  for  their  money,  as  is  unfortunately  the  case 
at  this  day  even  with  better  instructed  teachers ;  but  Kriisi's  conduct 
in  this  respect  may  serve  as  a  model.  As  soon  as  he  had  adopted 
this  profession,  it  was  his  most  earnest  effort  to  live  worthily  of  it,  and 
to  tit  himself  for  it  in  the  best  possible  way;  a  work  in  which  pastor 
Schiess,  his  parish  minister,  materially  assisted  him,  both  with  advice 
and  help.  Within  a  few  years  his  school  had  the  reputation  of  being 
the  best  in  the  canton;  and  he  had  the  pleasure  on  Easter  Monday 
of  seeing  his  scholars  take  the  six  highest  numbers  in  writing — a 
study  on  which  the  utmost  value  is  placed.  Kriisi  had  been  laboring 
in  his  vocation  now  for  six  years,  with  zeal  and  faithfulness,  when 
Providence  destined  him  for  another  field  of  labor  which  he  could 
not  have  foreseen,  and  which  places  the  modest  man  in  a  situation  to 
exert  a  wide  influence  upon  the  whole  school  system  of  our  native 
land.  The  storm  of  the  French  Revolution  broke  out.  In  the  year 
1799,  foreign  armies  swept  across  the  plains  of  our  fatherland,  and 
encountered  each  other  in  murderous  conflict ;  even  the  mountains 
and  high  alpine  valleys  did  not  escape  from  the  bloody  game. 
Poverty,  hunger,  and  lack  of  occupation  were  especially  severe  in  the 
eastern  part  of  Switzerland ;  many  parents  could  not  maintain  their 
children.  Sympathy  awoke  in  the  hearts  of  the  nobler  men  in  the 
less  severely  pressed  portions  of  the  country ;  and  from  many  sides 
there  flowed  in  liberal  gifts,  often  accompanied  with  the  offer  to  re- 
ceive and  bring  up  needy  children.  Such  an  invitation  came  to  pas- 
tor Steinmuller  from  his  friend  Fischer,  in  Burgdorf,  who  was  then 
intrusted  with  the  reorganization  of  the  Swiss  schools.  The  wish 
was  at  the  same  time  expressed  that  he  would  also  send  a  teacher  of 


rf*0  HERMANN   KRUSI 

the  requisite  capacity  and  character  for  receiving  a  training  as  teacher 
and  educator,  and  for  undertaking  the  care  of  the  children  then  in 
Burgdorf  with  certain  benevolent  families.  Upon  the  communication 
of  this  invitation  to  Kriisi,  he  made  no  delay ;  an  inner  voice  urged 
him  not  to  let  pass  this  opportunity  for  obtaining  a  further  education. 
Twenty-six  children  of  both  sexes  assembled  for  the  expedition. 
Kriisi,  as  leader  of  the  troop,  was  provided  with  twenty-four  thalers 
for  the  journey,  thirty  leagues.  Pastor  Steinmuller,  and  bailiff  Heim, 
of  the  district  gave  him  a  testimonial,  which  we  may  insert  here  as  a 
noteworthy  trait  of  the  condition  of  the  times : — 

FREEDOM  !  EQUALITY  !  To  all  municipal  authorities  to  whom  these  presents  shall 
come.  Citizen  schoolmaster  Hermann  Kriisi  is  traveling  hence  from  the  canton 
Santis  to  the  canton  Bern,  with  twenty-six  poor  children,  whom  he  is  taking  to 
Burgdorf,  where  sympathizing  benefactors  will  support  and  care  for  them  for  a 
time.  It  is  my  earnest  and  hopeful  request  to  all  municipalities,  and  especially  to 
their  citizen  presidents,  that  they  will  kindly  afford  all  needful  help  to  the  above 
named  children  and  to  their  leader,  sent  forward  by  my  means  as  above  ;  that 
they  will,  as  far  as  possible,  kindly  provide  for  them  rest  and  refreshment  at  noon, 
and  lodging  at  night,  without  pay.  For  such  benevolent  assistance,  may  the  Lord 
bless  you. 

Thus  asks  and  wishes 

Gais,  January  20,  1800.  .  JOB.  Run.  STEINMULLER,  Pastor. 

1  join  in  the  above  request  to  all  citizen  presidents  and  citizen  members  of 
municipalities  of  all  communes  and  districts,  to  which  these  needy  children  shall 
come,  on  their  way  hence  to  Burgdorf ;  and  am  fully  convinced  that  all  benevolent 
persons  will,  without  further  recommendation,  assist  the  poor  caravan  to  reach  its 
destination  as  easily  and  successfully  as  possible. 

The  provincial  under-bailiff  of  the  circle  of  Teufen. 

SAMUEL  HEIM. 

Of  the  journey  itself  we  need  only  remark  briefly  that  Kriisi,  with 
his  troop,  was  everywhere  received  in  a  friendly  manner ;  and  in 
many  places  they  were  entertained  gratis,  and  even  received  gifts  of 
money.  His  "Recollections"  give  an  account  of  this.  It  deserves  to 
be  mentioned,  as  remarkable  enough  to  remind  us  of  the  widow's 
cruse  of  oil,  that,  at  Krusi's  arrival  at  Burgdorf,  he  was  in  possession 
not  only  of  the  twenty-four  thalers  with  which  he  had  set  out,  but  of 
fifteen  gulden  besides ;  of  which  he  retained  the  latter,  but  sent  the 
former  back  to  the  authorities  of  Gais. 

From  Fischer,  at  Burgdorf,  Kriisi  received  a  most  friendly  welcome, 
and  commenced  his  school.  The  former,  however,  soon  after  died, 
and  Krusi  would  have  been  left  quite  alone  again,  had  not  Providence 
pointed  out  to  him  a  new  path,  by  means  of  the  appearance  of  a  man 
whom  he  followed  with  entire  confidence. 

This  was  Pestalozzi,  whose  labors  at  his  estate  of  Neuhof,  and  in 
Slanz,  are  among  the  noblest  facts  of  history.  It  was  when  already 
of  adult  age  that  Pestalozzi,  with  warm  enthusiasm  and  profound 


HERMANN    KRUSI.  327 

love,  had  conceived  the  idea  of  becoming  an  educator  and  teacher  of 
the  poorer  classes,  then  deeply  degraded  both  in  intellect  and  morals ; 
and  giving  to  education  in  general  a  more  natural  direction.  After 
Fischer's  death,  he  therefore  invited  Kriisi  to  form  a  connection  with 
himself,  and  with  him  to  conduct  the  school  which  he  had  established 
in  the  castle  of  the  place.  This  school,  which  Pestalozzi  had  at  first 
commenced  only  with  little  children,  was  soon  changed  into  an  edu- 
cational institution  of  a  higher  grade,  which,  by  means  of  the  entirely 
new  direction  of  its  operations,  met  with  great  success.  Joy  and 
pride  must  have  filled  Pestalozzi's  breast,  as  he  soon  saw,  one  after 
another,  young  and  talented  men — Tobler  from  Wolfhalden,  previous- 
ly a  tutor  in  Basle,  Buss  from  Tubingen,  Niederer  from  Lutzenberg, 
previously  a  pastor  in  Sennwald — full  of  enthusiasm,  leaving  each  his 
sphere  of  labor  and  resorting  to  him  as  trustful  disciples  to  a  master 
who  yet  could  reward  them  with  no  earthly  treasure  except  a  treas- 
ure of  rich  experience  and  of  deep  knowledge  of  the  human  heart. 

The  assemblage  of  these  three  Appenzellers  will  remain  remarkable 
for  all  time.  Each  of  them  developed  his  own  side  of  the  Pestaloz- 
zian  idea ;  and  they  were  for  a  long  time  the  ornament  and  strength 
of  the  institution  ;  and,  after  subsequent  successful  labors  in  independ- 
ent spheres  of  occupation,  they  all  died  within  the  same  year.  Krii- 
si's  letters  during  this  period  to  his  early  friend  Kern,  who  is  yet  alive, 
and  who  lived  in  close  personal  relations  with  him  for  nearly  forty 
years,  are  also  of  value  to  the  student  of  human  nature.  What  he 
wrote  of  Tobler,  "he  possesses  my  entire  respect  and  love,  for  I  recog- 
nize in  him  uncommon  talent  as  a  teacher,  and  goodness  of  heart," 
proved  entirely  true.  Tobler  had  with  enthusiasm  taken  up  particu- 
larly the  idea  of  Pestalozzi's  "  Lienhard  and  Gertrude ;"  that  of  re- 
placing mothers  in  the  position  originally  designed  for  them,  of  educa- 
tors and  instructors  for  early  childhood.  Seldom  has  any  man  labored 
with  as  benevolent  and  unostentatious  a  desire  for  the  good  of  his  fel- 
low-men as  he,  although  he  was  often  rewarded  by  misunderstanding 
and  ingratitude. 

Niederer,  also,  besides  immoveable  integrity  and  warm  feelings, 
possessed  a  far-seeing  keenness  of  understanding,  which  had  already 
appeared  in  his  correspondence  with  Tobler,  and  which  at  a  later 
period  was  displayed  in  the  development  of  the  method  with  so  much 
power  and  breadth  that  even  Pestalozzi  himself  had  sometimes  to 
yield  to  the  clearness  and  thoroughness  of  his  views. 

It  is  astonishing  to  see  with  what  uniformity  these  men,  assembled 
from  different  directions,  followed  their  new  path.  This  was  truly  a 
power  from  on  high.  What  else  could  have  enabled  the  former 


HERMANN    KRUSI. 

errand-boy  and  village  schoolmaster,  Kriisi,  to  say  in  his  letters  to  hia 
friend,  even  before  Tobler  and  Niederer  came  to  Burgdorf,  — 

uln  short,  the  enterprise  advances.  The  seed  of  a  better  education, 
one  more  adapted  to  human  nature,  is  already  sown.  It  will  bear 
fruit  which  as  yet  no  man,  not  even  its  discoverer,  the  noble  Pestalozzi- 
himself,  is  expecting." 

The  self-denying  spirit  and  lofty  views  with  which  Pestalozzi  'a 
assistants  at  this  early  period  were  imbued,  is  powerfully  shown  by 
the  fact  that  Kriisi  and  Buss,  being  allowed  a  salary  of  about  $125- 
a  year  each  from  the  Helvetic  government,  appropriated  the  whole  to 
the  support  of  the  institution,  receiving  from  it  only  board  and 
lodging. 

We  will  here  introduce  Pestalozzi's  own  account  of  Krusi's  previous 
labors.  It  affords  a  valuable  view  of  his  character  and  gifts  as  a 
teacher,  as  well  as  hints  of  the  general  methods  of  teaching  in  those 
days,  and  of  the  power  with  which  Pestalozzi's  ideas,  even  in  their 
then  undigested  and  obscure  condition,  seized  upon  the  minds  of 
ignorant  but  earnest  and  unprejudiced  men  :  — 

Kriisi,  the  first  of  the  three,  whose  acquaintance  I  made,  had  past  his  youth  in 
a  different  kind  of  employment,  whence  he  had  acquired  that  variety  of  practical 
abilities,  which,  in  the  lower  stations  of  life,  so  frequently  gives  the  first  impulse 
to  a  higher  degree  of  development,  and  by  which  men,  who  have  been  in  this 
school  from  their  earliest  childhood,  are  enabled  to  become  more  generally  and 
extensively  useful. 

In  his  twelfth  and  thirteenth  years,  his  father,  who  carried  on  a  petty  traffic, 
used  to  send  him,  with  a  small  capital,  amounting  to  about  six  or  eight  pounds 
sterling,  for  the  purchase  of  different  kinds  of  merchandise,  to  a  distance  often  to 
twelve  miles  ;  to  this  employment  he  joined  the  trade  of  a  sort  of  public  messen- 
ger, carrying  letters  and  executing  various  orders  for  the  people  of  his  village. 
When  he  grew  older,  he  filled  up  his  leisure  days  by  weaving,  or  other  <^aily 
labor.  At  tin-  a  ire  of  eighteen,  he  undertook  the  office  of  village  schoolmaster  at 
Gais,*  his  native  place,  without  any  kind  of  preparation.  He  says  himself  that  he 
did  not  know  the  signs  of  punctuation,  even  by  name;  ulterior  knowledge  wa* 
out  of  the  question,  because  he  never  had  any  other  instruction  than  that  of  a 
common  village  school,  which  was  entirely  confined  to  reading,  writing  copies, 
and  learning  by  rote  the  catechism,  &c.  ;  but  he  was  fond  of  children,  and  he  en 
tertained  the  hope  that,  by  means  of  this  post,  he  should  be  enabled  to  gain  for 
himself  that  knowledge  and  education,  the  want  of  which  he  had  felt  very  op- 
pressively, even  in  his  expeditions  as  village  messenger  ;  for,  being  commissioned 
to  buy  a  variety  of  articles,  of  artificial  preparation,  and  of  strange  names  which 
he  had  never  heard  in  his  life  before,  such  as  ammoniac,  borax,  and  so  on  ;  and 
being  at  the  same  time  placed  in  a  responsible  situation,  in  which  he  had  to  re- 
member every,  even  the  most  trifling  order,  and  to  account  for  every  farthing;  he 
could  not  but  be  struck  with  the  idea,  what  an  advantage  it  would  be,  if  every 
child  could,  by  school  instruction,  be  brought  to  that  degree  of  ability  in  reading, 
writing,  ciphering,  in  all  sorts  of  mental  exercises,  nnd  in  the  art  of  speaking  itself, 
which  he  felt  he  ought  to  be  possessed  of,  even  for  the  discharge  of  his  miserable 
post  as  village  messenger. 

Even  so  soon  as  the  first  week,  the  number  of  his  scholars  exceeded  one 
hundred.  But  he  was  by  no  means  competent  to  the  task  he  had  undertaken, 


*  A  village,  or,  rather,  a  cluster  of  hamlets  on  the  highest  and  most  airy  part  of  the  canton 
Appenzell,  celebrated  as  a  place  of  resort  for  persons  of  consumptive  habits,  on  account  of  iU 
excellent  milk,  of  which,  however,  the  patients  take  only  the  whey. 


HERMANN  KRtfSl.  329 

for  he  knew  not  how  to  give  proper  employment  to  all  these  children,  what  to- 
teach  them,  or  by  what  means  to  keep  them  in  order.  All  the  notions  he  had  hith 
erto  acquired  about  keeping  school  were  confined  to  the  "  setting  "  of  spelling  and 
reading  lessons,  to  be  "got  by  heart;"  to  the  "saying"  of  the  same  lessons  by 
turns,  followed  by  the  chastisement  of  the  rod  if  the  task  was  not  properly  got. 
From  the  experience  of  his  own  boyhood,  however,  he  knew  likewise  that,  with 
this  mode  of  4<  keeping  school,"  the  greater  part  of  the  children  are  idling  away 
most  of  the  school -hours,  and  by  idleness  are  led  to  a  variety  of  follies  and  im- 
moralities ;  that  in  this  manner  the  time  which  is  most  available  for  education  is 
allowed  to  pass  by  without  any  benefit  to  them,  and  that  the  few  advantages  which 
they  may  derive  from  their  instruction  are  not  even  sufficient  to  counterbalance 
the  ill  effects  which  must  necessarily  result  from  such  '"  school-keeping." 

Pastor  Schiess,  the  minister  of  the  place,  who  was  very  actively  combating  the 
old  routine,  assisted  him  in  his  school,  during  the  first  eight  weeks.  From  the 
very  beginning  they  divided  the  scholars  into  three  classes.  With  this  division, 
and  the  usj  of  some  spelling  and  reading-books  on  an  improved  plan,  which  had 
recently  been  introduced  in  the  school,  they  succeeded  in  making  a  number  of 
children  spell  and  read  together,  and  thus  keeping  them  generally  occupied  to  a 
far  greater  extent  than  had  been  possible  before. 

The  new  reading-book,  that  had  been  introduced  by  the  minister,  contained 
religious  truths  in  short  paragraphs,  and  in  biblical  sentences ;  various  facts  of 
physical  science,  natural  history,  and  geography,  were  concisely  stated,  and  in- 
formation was  given  on  interesiing  points  of  the  political  constitution  of  the  country. 
Kriisi  observed  his  pastor,  when  he  read  it  with  the  children,  putting  some 
questions  at  the  end  of  each  paragraph,  in  order  to  see  whether  they  actually  un- 
derstood what  they  had  read.  Kriisi  tried  to  do  the  same  thing,  and  succeeded 
in  making  most  of  the  scholars  perfectly  familiar  with  the  contents  of  the  reading- 
book.  But  this  was  only  because,  like  good  old  Iluebuer,*  he  adapted  his 
questions  to  the  answers  which  were  to  be  found,  ready  made,  in  the  book,  and 
because  he  neither  demanded  nor  expected  any  other  answer,  except  literally 
those  which  the  book  had  put  into  the  children's  mouths,  long  before  any  question 
was  devised  to  elicit  them.  The  true  reason  of  his  success  was,  that  there  was  a 
complete  absence  of  all  mental  exercise  in  this  his  system  of  catechisation.  It  is, 
however,  to  be  observed,  that  that  mode  of  instruction  which  originally  was 
termed  catechisation,  is,  no  more  than  Kriisi's  system  of  questioning,  an  exercise 
of  the  mind;  it  is  a  mere  analysis  of  words,  relieving  the  child,  as  far  as  words 
are  concerned,  from  the  confusion  of  a  whole  sentence,  the  different  parts  of  which 
are  presented  to  the  mind  separately  and  distinctly  ;  it  can,  therefore,  only  have 
merit  when  used  as  a  preparatory  step  to  the  further  exercise  of  clearing  up  the 
ideas  represented  by  those  words.  This  latter  exercise,  commonly  termed  So- 
cratic instruction,  has  only  of  late  been  mixed  up  with  the  business  of  catechising, 
which  was  originally  confined  to  religious  subjects  exclusively. 

The  children  thus  catechised  by  Kriisi  were  held  up  by  the  minister  as  ex- 
amples to  his  elder  catechumens.  Afterward  it  was  required  of  Kriisi,  that  ho 
should,  after  the  fashion  of  those  times,  combine  this  narrow  analysis  of  words, 
called  catechising,  with  the  Socratic  manner,  which  takes  up  the  subject  in  a 
higher  sense.  But  an  uncultivated  and  superficial  mind  does  not  dive  into  those 
depths  from  which  Socrates  derived  spirit  and  truth;  and  it  was,  therefore,  quite 
natural  that,  in  his  new  system  of  questioning,  Kriisi  should  not  succeed.  He 
had  no  internal  basis  for  his  questions,  nor  had  the  children  any  for  their  answers. 
They  had  no  language  for  things  which  they  knew  not,  and  no  books  which 
furnished  them  with  a  well-framed  answer  to  every  question,  whether  they 
understood  it  or  not. 

Kriisi,  however,  had  not  then  that  clear  insight  into  the  nature  of  those  two 
methods  which  might  have  enabled  him  to  apprehend  their  difference.  He  had 
riot  yet  learned  that  mere  catechising,  especially  if  it  runs  upon  abstract  terms, 
leads  to  no  more  than  the  art  of  separating  words  and  handling  analytical  form*1 ; 
but  that,  in  itself,  it  is  nothing  but  a  parrot-like  repetition  of  sounds  without  un 
derstanding  :  nor  was  he  aware  that  Socratic  questions  are  not  to  be  addressed 

*  u  Good  old  Huebner"  is  the  author  of  a  Scripture  history  in  German,  to  which  are  at- 
Cached  sets  of  '-useful  questions  and  answers,"  such  as  our  readers  may  fine!  in  many  a 
"good  new"  manual  of  our  •'  enlightened  and  improved  systems." 


330  HERMANN  KIM  si 

to  children,  such  as  his  pupils  at  Gais,  who  were  *  uually  destitute  of  the  internal 
fund,  that  is,  of  real  knowledge, — and  of  the  «  xternal  means,  that  is,  of  lan_ruaire 
wherein  to  convey  that  knowledge.  Tin-  failure  of  his  attempt  rend. -red  him 
unjust  to  himself;  he  thought  the  fault  lay  entirely  with  himself,  imagining  that 
. -\ei-y  good  schoolmaster  must  be  able,  by  his  questions,  to  elieit  from  the  children 
correct  and  precise  answers  on  all  manner  of  moral  and  religious  subjects. 

We  have  already  noticed  the  circumstances  which  brought  Krii-i 
to  Burgdorf. 

The  more  he  labored  with  Fischer  the  higher  seemed  to  him  the  mountain 
which  lay  in  his  way,  and  the  less  did  he  feel  in  himself  of  that  power  which  he 
saw  would  be  necessar)'  to  reach  its  summit.  However,  during  the  very  lir>t 
•days  after  his  arrival,  Kriisi  was  ptvs.-iit  at  some  of  the  conversations  I  had  with 
Fischer  on  the  subject  of  popular  education,  when  I  expressed  my  decided  disap- 
probation of  the  Socratic  manner  of  our  young  candidates,  adding,  that  it  was  not 
my  wish  to  bring  children  to  a  premature  judgment,  on  any  subject,  but  that  my 
endeavor  was  rather  to  eheek  their  judgment,  until  the  children  should  have  an 
opportunity  of  viewing  the  subject  from  all  sides,  and  under  a  variety  of  circum- 
stanci  s,  and  until  they  should  be  perfectly  familiar  with  the  words  expressive  of 
its  nature  and  its  i|iialit;es.  Kriisi  was  struck  with  these  remarks:  he  felt  it  \\a«- 
there  that  his  own  deficiency  la}  ;  he  found  that  he  himself  stood  in  need  of  that 
same  elementary  instruction  uhich  I  designed  for  my  children. 

Fischer  exerted  himself  with  all  his  power  to  introduce  Kriisi  to  different  de- 
partments of  science,  that  he  might  he  able  afterward  to  leach  them.  But  Kriisi 
felt  every  day  more  that  the  way  of  books  was  not  the  one  for  him  to  make 
progress  in,  because  on  every  subject  he  was  destitute  of  that  preliminary 
knowledge  of  things  and  their  naiiu  s.  \\hich,  t<»  a  Beater  or  lesser  extent,  l>ooks 
presuppose.  Mn  the  other  hand,  he  witnessed  the  effect  which  I  produced  upon 
my  children,  by  leading  them  back  to  the  first  elements  of  human  knowledge,  and 
by  dwelling  on  these  rleim  nts  with  unwearied  patience;  and  the  result  of  his 
observation  tended  to  confirm  him  in  the  notions  he  had  formed  concerning  the 
causes  of  his  own  inability.  Thus  by  degrees  his  whole  view  of  instruction  under- 
went a  great  change,  and  he  began  in  his  own  mind  to  place  it  on  a  different 
foundation.  He  now  perceived  clearly  the  tendency  of  my  experiments,  which 
was  to  develop  the  internal  power  of  the  child  rather  than  to  produce  those 
results  which,  nevertheless,  were  produced  as  the  necessary  consequences  of  my 
proe  ,  nd  seeing  the  application  of  this  principle  to  the  development  of 

different  faculties  l»y  diffen-nt  branches  of  instruction,  he  came  to  the  conviction 
that  the  effect  of  my  method  was  to  lay  in  the  child  a  foundation  of  knowledge 
and  further  progress,  such  as  it  would  be  impossible  to  obtain  by  any  other. 

Fischer's  death  accelerated  the  union  between  Pestalozzi  and  Kriisi, 
which  had  been  contemplated  by  the  latter  almost  from  the  first 
moment  of  his  acquaintance  with  his  paternal  friend.  The  following 
account  of  the  view  which  he  took  of  Pestalozzi's  plan,  after  he  had 
for  some  time  enjoyed  the  advantage  of  practical  co-operation  with 
him,  is,  notwithstanding  its  great  deficiencies,  an  interesting  testimony 
in  favor  of  the  experiment,  in  the  course  of  which  these  ideas  urged 
themselves  upon  an  evidently  unprejudiced  mind. 

1.  A   well-arranged  nomenclature,  indelibly  impressed  upon  the  mind,  is  to 
serve  as  a  general  foundation,  on  the  ground  of  which  both  teacher  and  children 
may,  subsequently,  develop  clear  and  distinct  ideas  on  every  branch  of  knowledge, 
by  a  gradual  but  well-secured  progress  from  the  first  elements. 

2.  Exercises  concerning  lines,  angles,  curves,  &c.,  (such  as  I  began  to  introduce 
at  that  time,)  are  calculated  to  give  children  such  a  distinctness  and  precision  in 
the  perception  of  objects,  as  will  enable  them  to  form  a  clear  notion  of  whatever 
falls  within  the  sphere  of  their  observation. 

3.  The  mode  of  beginning  arithmetical  instruction  by  means  of  real  objects,  or 
at  least  strokes  and  dots,  representing  the  different  numbers,  gives  great  precision 


HERMANN  KRUSI  331 

and  certainty  in  the-  elements,  ami  secures  tin-  further  progress  of  the  child  against 
error  and  confusion. 

4.  The  sentences,  ill  scriptu v  of  tli  •  acts  of  walking,  standing,  lying,  sitting, 

&e.,  winch  I  gave  the  children  to  Irani.  led  Kriisi  to  perceive  the  connection 

">  tween  the  beginnings  of  my  instruction  and  the  purpose  at  which  1  was  aiming, 

viz.,  to  produce  a  general  clearness  in   tin.-  mind  on  all  subjects.      He  soon  felt, 

-fit  if  children  are  made  to  describe  in  this  manner  tilings  which  are  so  clear  to 

»v\  m   that  experience'  can  not   render  them  any  clearer,  they  must  thereby  be 

r-ecked  in  the  presumption  of  descr.bing  things  of  which  they  have  no  knowledge  ; 

ml,  at  the  sain  •  time,  they  mint  acquir-  the  power  of  describing  whatever  they 

Uo  know,  to  a  de^i-.-e  which  wdl  enable  them  to  give  consistent,  definite,  concise, 

and  comprehensive  descriptions  of  whatever  falls  \vilh:n  reach  of  their  observation. 

,Y    A   few   words  which   I  dropped  on  one  occasion,  on  the  tendency  of  my 

.ictho  1  to  abate   prejudice,  struck  him  very  forcibly.     Speaking  of  the  manifold 

xcrtions,    and    the     tedious     artrum.-nts,    by    which     prejudices    are    generally 

ombated,  I  observed  that  the*  •  means  had  about  as  much  power  to  counteract 

.jem  as  the  ringing  of  the  bells  had  to  disperse  thunder-storms,*  but  that  the 

.nlv  true  safeguard  against  the  influences  of  pivjudiee  was  a  conviction  of  the 

.ruth,  founded  upon  self-observation.     For  truth,  so  acquired,  is  in  its  very  nature 

jn  impediment  to  the  reception  of  prejudice  and  error  in  the  mind  ;  so  much  so, 

hat  if  men  thus  taught  are  made  acquainted  with  the  existence  of  prevailing  false 

notions  l.y  th<'  never-ceasing  cant  of  society,  there  is  not  in  their  minds  any  ground  for 

Miat  iirnohl,-  seed  to  rest  on,  or  to  grow  up  in,  and  the  effect  must  therefore  be  very 

differ. 'lit   from  what  it  proves  to  be  in  the  common-place   men  of  our  age,  who 

have   both   truth  and  error  thrust  into  their  imagination,   not  by  intuition  and 

at:on.  but  by  the  mere  charm  of  words,  as  it  were  by  a  magic  lantern. 

\Vh  'ii  reflecting  upon  these  remarks,  he  came  to  the  conviction,  that  the  silence 
with  which,  in  my  plan  of  instruction,  errors  and  prejudge  •  were  passed  over, 
was  likely  to  prove  mor.  ••tVeetiial  in  counteracting  them  than  all  the  endless 
verbiage  which  he  had  hitherto  seen  employed  for  that  purpose. 

I!.  In  consequence,  of  our  gathering  plants  during  the  summer,  and  of  the  con- 
versations to  which  this  ijave  rise,  h  •  was  brought  to  the  conviction  that  the  whole 
round  of  knowledge,  to  the  acquisition  of  which  our  senses  are  instrumental. 
d'-pend.-d  "ii  an  att  iitive  observation  of  nature,  and  on  a  careful  collection  and 
preservation  of  whatever  she  presents  to  our  thirst  of  knowledge. 

These  were  the  views  on  the  irround  of  which  he  conceived  the  possibility  of 
•establishing  such  a  method  of  instruction  ash"  f  dt  was  most  needed;  viz.,  one 
which  would  cause  all  the  branches  of  knowledge  to  bear  upon  one  another,  with 
such  coherence  and  consistenev  as  would  require,  on  the  part  of  the  master, 
nothing  but  a  knowledge  of  the  mode  of  applying  it,  and,  with  that  knowledge, 
would  enable  him  to  obtain,  not  only  for  his  children  but  even  for  himself,  all 
that  is  considered  to  be  the  object  of  instruction.  That  is  to  say,  he  saw  that, 
with  this  method,  positive  learning  mi^hl  be  dispensed  with,  and  that  nothing  was 
wanted  hut  sound  common  sense,  and  practicable  abilitv  in  teaching,  in  order  not 
only  to  lead  the  minds  of  children  to  the  acquirement  of  solid  information,  but 
likewise  to  brinir  parents  and  teachers  to  a  satisfactory  degree  of  independence 
and  unfett'-red  mental  activity  concerning  those  branches  of  knowledge,  in  which 
they  would  submit  themselves  to  the  course  prescribed  by  the  method. 

During  his  six  years'  experience  as  village  schoolmaster,  a  considerable 
number  of  children,  of  all  ages,  had  passed  through  his  hands;  but  with  all  the 
pains  he  took,  he  had  never  seen  the  faculties  of  the  children  developed  to  the 
degree  to  which  they  were  carried  by  my  plan ;  nor  had  he  ever  witnessed  in 
'them  such  an  extent  and  solidity  of  knowledge,  precision  of  thought,  and 
independence  of  feeling. 

He  inquired  into  the  causes  of  the  difference  between  his  school  and  mine. 

He  found,  in  the  first  instance,  that,  even  at  the  earliest  period  of  instruction, 
a  certain  feeling  of  energy  was  not  so  much  produced, — for  it  exists  in  every 
mind  not  enervated  by  artificial  treatment,  as  an  evidence  of  innate  power, — as 
tept  alive  in  cons  -quence  of  my  beginning  at  the  very  easiest  task,  and  exercising 

*  It  is  a  superstitious  practice,  kept  up  to  this  day  in  many  parts  of  Switzerland  and  Ger- 
many, to  ring  the  church-bells  at  the  approach  of  a  thunder-storm,  under  the  impression  that 
ie  sacred  toll  will  effectually  remove  the  danger. 


332  HERMANN  KRUS1. 

it  to  a  point  of  practical  perfection  before  I  proceeded ;  which,  again,  was  not 
done  in  an  incoherent  manner,  but  by  a  gradual  and  almost  insensible  addition  to 
what  the  child  had  already  acquired. 

With  this  method,  he  used  to  say,  you  need  not  push  on  children,  you  have 
only  to  lead  them.  Formerly,  whatever  he  wanted  to  teach,  he  was  obliged  to 
introduce  by  some  such  phrase  as  this :  "  Pray,  do  think,  if  you  please  !"  "  Can't 
you  remember,  now  ?" 

It  could  not  be  otherwise.  If,  for  instance,  in  arithmetic,  he  asked,  "  How 
many  times  seven  are  there  in  sixty-three  ?"  the  child  had  no  palpable  basis  on 
which  to  rest  his  inquiry  for  the  answer,  and  was,  therefore,  unable  to  solve  the 
question,  otherwise  than  by  a  wearisome  process  of  recollection  ;  but,  according 
to  my  method,  he  has  nine  times  seven  objects  before  him,  which  he  has  learned 
to  count  as  nine  sevens ;  the  answer  to  the  above  question  is,  therefore,  with  him, 
not  a  matter  of  memory  ;  for  although  the  question,  perhaps,  may  be  put  to  him 
for  the  first  time,  yet  he  knew  long  ago,  by  intuition  and  practice,  that  in  sixty- 
three  there  are  nine  sevens ;  and  the  same  is  the  case  in  all  the  other  branches 
of  my  method. 

To  adduce  another  instance :  he  had  in  vain  endeavored  to  accustom  his 
children  to  write  the  initials  of  substantives  with  capital  letters  ;*  the  rule  by 
which  they  were  to  go  was  constantly  forgotten.  Now,  on  the  contrary,  the  same 
children,  having  read  through  some  pages  of  a  vocabulary  constructed  on  my 
plan,  conceived  of  themselves  the  idea  of  continuing  that  vocabulary  out  of  their 
own  resources,  and,  by  writing  long  lists  of  substantives,  proved  that  they  had  a 
clear  notion  of  the  distinctive  character  of  that  sort  of  words.  The  remark  which 
Kriisi  made,  that  with  this  method  children  do  not  want  to  be  pushed  on,  is  so 
correct,  that  it  may  be  considered  as  a  proof  of  something  imperfect  in  the  mode 
of  instruction,  if  the  child  still  requires  any  kind  of  stimulus  to  thought;  and  the 
method  can  be  considered  as  perfect  only  where  every  exercise  proposed  to  the 
child  is  so  immediately  the  result  of  what  he  has  learned  before,  that  it  requires 
no  other  exertion  on  his  part  than  the  application  of  what  he  already  knows. 

Kriisi  further  observed  that  the  detached  words  and  pictures,  which  I  used  to 
lay  before  the  children  in  teaching  them  to  read,  produced  upon  their  minds  a 
very  different  effect  from  that  of  the  compound  phrases  commonly  used  in  schools. 
He,  therefore,  now  began  to  examine  these  phrases  themselves  somewhat  more 
closely,  and  he  found  that  it  was  utterly  impossible  for  children  to  form  any 
distinct  notions  of  the  different  words  of  which  they  are  composed ;  because  they 
do  not  consist  of  simple  elements  before  known  to  the  children,  and  put  together 
in  an  obvious  connection,  but  that  they  are  unintelligible  combinations  of  objects 
mostly  or  entirely  unknown.  To  employ  children's  minds  in  the  unraveling  of 
such  phrases  is  contrary  to  nature  ;  it  exceeds  their  powers,  and  leads  to  delusion,, 
inasmuch  as  it  introduces  them  to  trains  of  ideas  which  are  perfectly  foreign  to 
them,  as  regards  not  only  the  nature  of  the  objects  to  which  they  ivfeT,  Imt 
likewise  the  artificial  language  in  which  they  are  clothed,  and  of  which  the 
child  ren  have  not  even  acquired  the  bare  elements.  Kriisi  saw  th.it  I  was  no  ad  vocate 
for  this  hodge-podge  of  pedantry  ;  but  that  I  did  with  my  children  as  nature  does 
with  savages,  first  bringing  an  image  before  their  eyes,  and  then  seeking  a  word 
to  express  the  perception  to  which  it  gives  rise.  He  saw  that,  from  so  simple  an 
acquaintance  with  the  object,  no  conclusions,  no  inferences  followed  ;  that  there 
was  no  doctrine,  no  point  of  opinion  inculcated,  nothing  that  would  prematurely 
excite  them  to  decide  between  truth  and  error ;  it  was  a  mere  matter  of  intuition, 
a  real  basis  for  conclusions  and  inferences  to  be  drawn  hereafter  ;  a  guide  to  future 
discoveries,  which,  as  well  as  their  past  experience,  they  might  associate  with  the 
substantial  knowledge  thus  acquired. 

He  entered  more  and  more  into  the  spirit  of  my  method  ;  he  perceived  that 
every  thing  depended  on  reducing  the  different  branches  of  knowledge  to  their 
very  simplest  elements,  and  proceeding  from  them  in  an  uninterrupted  progress, 
by  small  and  gradual  additions.  He  became  every  day  better  fitted  to  second  me 
in  the  experiments  which  I  myself  made  on  the  ground  of  the  above  principles; 
and,  with  his  assistance,  I  completed,  in  a  short  time,  a  spelling-book,  and  a 
course  of  arithmetic,  upon  my  own  plan. 

*  In  the  German  langiiaee,  every  substantive,  and  every  word  used  as  n  substantive  is 
written  at  the  beginning  with  a  cap'i  ;il  letter. 


HERMANN  KRUSI.  833 

Kriisi  himself  considered  the  time  he  spent  in  Burgdorf  the  iiappiest 

-•and  most  fruitful  of  all   his  life.      The  conviction   that   they  were 

laboring  for  a  cau.su  which  was  to  exert  an  influence  for  good  upon 

thousands  of  their  fellow-men  filled  all  the  laborers  there  with  enthu- 

Usin,  and  made  every  effort  and  every  new  creation  a  delight  which 

;iey  would  not  have  exchanged  for  all  the  treasures  of  earth. 

The  important  year  1805,  in  which  Napoleon  decreed  the  resepa- 
.nion  of  Switzerland,  brought  the  institution  at  Burgdorf  to  an  end  ; 
ne  castle  reverted  to  the  canton  and  was  occupied  by  the  high  bailiff'. 
•?estalozzi,  after  contemplating  for  some  time  the  transfer  of  his  insti- 
;ution  to  Miinchenbuchsee,  determined  to  continue  it  at  Yverdun,  on 
the  lake  of  Neufchatel.  '  For  this  purpose  he  received  permission  to 
use  the  old  castle  there  ;  and  all  his  teachers  joyfully  gathered  around 
^iim  again.  In  Yverdun,  the  institution  acquired  a  European  reputa- 
tion ;  from  all  directions  there  resorted  to  it  not  only  pupils,  (of  whom 
.t  contained  in  its  most  prosperous  condition  above  two  hundred,)  but 
ulso  youths  and  men  of  riper  age  and  experience,  who  sought  to 
become  acquainted  with  the  discoveries  of  Pestalozzi,  in  order  to  fit 
themselves  for  learning  and  teaching  in  the  great  field  of  human  edu- 
cation. An  active  and  significant  life  grew  up  within  the  walls  of 
the  modest  little  institution,  to  which  there  gathered  pilgrims  both 
great  and  small  from  all  parts  of  Europe.  The  seed  there  sown  bore 
fruit  a  thousand-fold  throughout  all  parts  of  Germany,  and  especially 
in  Prussia,  where  the  benevolent  king  highly  valued  the  efforts  and 
the  method  of  Pestalozzi,  and  sent  several  young  men  of  talents  to 
make  themselves  acquainted  with  the  latter. 

Besides  this  undertaking,  whose  good  influence  was  intended  to 
reach  boys,  youths,  and  men  of  all  classes  and  of  all  beliefs,  Pestalozzi's 
scheme  contemplated  also  the  extension  of  the  advantages  of  an 
improved  education  to  girls,  in  order  that  they  might  be  trained  in 
their  great  vocation  as  mothers.  To  this  end  he  connected  with  his 
institution,  in  1806,  a  girls'  institute,  under  the  management  of  Kriisi 
and  Hopf,  the  latter  of  whom  was  married.  This  institution  succeeded. 
Pestalozzi's  best  teachers  helped  to  instruct  in  it.  Among  those  who 
patronized  i<\  Kriisi  always  remembered  with  affection  a  wealthy 
.andowner,  (Stamm,)  of  Schleitheim,  who  sent  to  Yverdun  not  only 
four  daughters,  but  a  niece  as  a  sort  of  guardian,  two  nephews,  and  a 
young  man  who  he  was  assisting  to  train  himself  for  the  work  of 
teaching.  Truly  we  might  almost  say,  in  the  words  of  Jesus,  *•  I  have 
not  found  such  faith,  no,  not  in  Israel !"  Of  the  operations  of  the 
nstitution  Kriisi  says :  "  It  gives  us  heartfelt  pleasure ;  but  we  had 
x>t  foreseen  \he  continually  greater  demands  to  be  made  upon  our 


334  HERMANN  KRU8I. 

strength  and  time  in  order  to  comply  with  its  i»^::."..emer«ts  We 
had,  therefore,  only  the  choice  remaining  to  devo'*  "_r.^elv<is  wholly 
to  one  institution  or  the  other.  Pestalozzi  undertook  the  management 
of  the  new  institution,  with  which  I  remained  in  friendly  communica- 
tion. The  domestic  management  and  moral  instruction  WPJ-C  all 
under  the  charge  of  several  female  teachers,  until  Rosette  Kasthofer, 
afterward  Niederer's  wife,  resolved  to  make  it  the  object  of  her  life  to 
conduct  the  institution,  in  order  to  the  accomplishment  of  Pestalozzi's 
views.  To  this  purpose  she  yet  remains  true.  Although  the 
shortness  of  my  experience  will  not  allow  me  to  claim  the  ability  to 
educate  skillful  female  teachers  and  good  mothers  of  families,  it  will 
always  give  me  pleasure  to  remember  that  the  united  efforts  of  my 
celebrated  friend  and  myself  called  the  institution  into  life.*1 

Kriisi's  wife  also  received  her  education  in  this  institution ;  but 
after  he  had  resigned  the  management  of  it.  We,  and  a.'l  who  knew 
him,  must  agree  that  the  simplicity  and  goodness  of  his  disposition 
peculiarly  fitted  him  for  teaching  girls,  although  he  first  undertook  it 
at  the  age  of  thirty. 

Kriisi's  recollections  of  this  period  were  numerous ;  but  we  must 
confine  ourselves  to  a  very  few  of  them.  His  acquaintance  with. 
Katherine  Egger,  afterward  his  wife,  had  already  commenced  in 
1810-12.  She  subsequently  removed  to  Miihlhausen.  to  assist  her 
sister  in  her  school  there ;  and  we  shall  derive  part  of  our  information 
from  the  correspondence  between  them. 

In  this  correspondence  he  speaks  most  frequently  of  Father  Pesta- 
lozzi, and  of  Niederer,  who  was  always  intellectually  active,  but  at 
that  time  often  depressed  in  spirits.  The  reverence  and  love  with 
which  all  the  friends  and  fellow-laborers  there,  to  the  ends  of  tin  ir 
lives,  spoke  of  Father  Pestalozzi,  sufficiently  refute  the  incorrect 
things  now  frequently  heard  on  this  subject. 

Thus  Kriisi  says  in  one  place : — 

44  Father  Pestalozzi  is  always  cheerful,  and  works  with  youthful; 
energy.  We  often  wonder  at  his  enthusiasm,  which  will  yield  neither 
to  labor  nor  to  age.  I  seek  to  avoid  unpleasant  collisions  between 
dissimilar  views;  and  sincerely  desire  that  my  labor  may  always 
satisfy  him." 

And  again,  about  Niederer. 

44  Niederer  is  working  like  a  giant.  A  defence  of  the  institution 
against  wrong  impressions  and  •-  tru*  oyrv^:*'  —  ~*  *t;ilozzi's- 
designs  will  soon  appear  "'n  ^nr>*  Few  mti.  ...'-.  „.;•<:  \.v  won?  like 
him." 

Even  from  these  few  lines  we  obtain  a  deep  view  of  the  charart»" 


HERMANN  KRUSI.  335- 

of  these  three  fellow-workmen.  Of  Kriisi's  own  labors  in  the  institu- 
tion we  shall  let  Pestalozzi  himself  speak,  further  on.  A  letter  from 
Kriisi,  January  loth,  1812,  on  occasion  of  Pestalozzi's  birth-day,  gives 
us  a  view  of  the  feelings  and  relations  of  the  pupils  toward  the  father 
of  the  institution  : 

"  The  day,"  (writes  Kriisi  to  his  betrothed,)  "  was  a  glorious  one,  and  rich  in  seeds- 
and  fruits  tor  the  growth  and  strengthening  of  the  soul  and  the  heart.  I  can  give 
you  only  points  of  recollections  of  it :  from  these  points  you  may  complete  the 
lines  and  the  whole  picture  from  your  own  fancy."  He  proceeds  to  give  a  cir- 
cumstantial account  of  the  festivities  in  the  schoolroom  of  each  class.  The  decora- 
tions in  those  of  the  third  and  fourth  classes  were  especially  ingenious.  In  the 
third  were  to  be  seen  : 

a.  A  transparency  of  Neuhof,  the  village  of  Birr,  and  the  high  land  of  Brunegg. 
(It  was  here  that  Pestalozzi  first  attempted  to  realize  his  benevolent  plans  for  the 
education  of  poor  factory  children.) 

b.  Opposite  to  this  Pestalozzi's  bust,  of  wood,  crowned  with  a  wreath  of  laurels 
and  immortals. 

0.  On  each  side  of  this,  a  transparency  with  an  inscription :  on  the  right,  in 
German,  "  May  God  who  gave  thee  to  us,  bless  thy  work  and  us  long  through 
thee  !"  on  the  left,  in  French,  "  Homage  to  our  father  !  the  pure  joy  of  our  hearts 
proclaims  our  happiness." 

The  room  of  the  fourth  class  was  arranged  to  represent  a  landscape,  in  which 
were  to  be  seen  : 

a.  Cultivated  land  and  meadows. 

b.  A  rock. 

c.  A  spring  rising  at  the  foot  of  the  rock,  and  a  brook  flowing  from  it  and  fer- 
tilizing the  land. 

d.  Near  this  a  poor  dwelling ;  a  hut  roofed  with  straw. 

e.  Over  its  door  the  words,  "  May  his  age  be  peaceful." 

f.  In  another  place  an  altar. 

g.  Over  it  the  words,  in  a  transparency,  "  May  poverty  remember  him  !" 
h.  On  one  side  of  it.  "  May  we  live  like  him  !" 

1.  Upon  it,  a  poor's-box,  with  a  letter  from  all  the  members  of  the  class. 

As  soon  as  Father  Pestalozzi  entered  the  chamber,  a  little  geuius  came  forward 
from  the  hut  to  meet  him,  and  handed  him  the  poor's-box  and  the  letter.  He 
was  so  surprised  and  affected  that  he  could  scarcely  read  it.  Its  contents  were 
as  follows : 

u  Dear  Herr  Pestalozzi ; 

"  It  is  very  little,  it  is  true,  which  we.  both  the  present  and  former  members 
»f  the  class,  save  in  the  course  of  the  year;  which  amount  we  now  offer  you  as  a 
feeble  testimony  of  the  depth  of  our  love  ;  but  we  are  glad  to  be  able  to  say  that 
at  least  it  comes  from  sincere  hearts;  and  shall  this  please  you,  our  end  will  have 
been  gained.  It  may  express  to  you  our  purpose  hereafter  doing  still  .more  for 
\he  poor,  and  like  yourself,  of  finding  our  own  happiness  in  that  of  others. 
May  we  use  well  the  time  of  our  stay  here,  and  by  our  efforts  evermore  deserve 
rour  love.  May  you  oe  nappy  among  us !  Full  of  gratitude  to  God,  we  embrace 
;ou  affectionately,  with  *he  wish  that  you  may  live  to  see  us  fulfill  this  promise." 

The  money  given  amounted  to  fifty-two  Swiss  francs.  Besides  the  displays  of 
Ihe  children,  the  printers  had  a  transparency  with  the  words,  "  May  the  press 
send  forth  hereafter  no  longer  your  life,  but  only  the  ripe  and  beautiful  fruit  of 
lhat  life." 

Kriisi  also  describes  some  festivities  which  Pestalozzi  arranged  for 
/lis  pupils  in  order  on  his  part  to  give  them  pleasure.  From  this  pro- 
duction it  is  evident  with  what  love  and  reverence  he  was  regarded 
by  the  members  of  his  household,  and  how  they  all  endeavored  to- 
make  his  days  pass  in  happiness  and  comfort. 

In   1812   Pestalozzi   contracted     &y   carelessness   a  severe  illness,. 


386  HERMANN   KRUSl. 

during  which  he  would  have  Kriisi  almost  incessantly  with  L, 
nurse.     The  latter  performed  that  office  with  his  usual  tenderx-    ?„  f 
self-sacrifice;    bearing    patiently    with    his    weaknesses,    and    —a1^ 
pleasure  in   every   remarkable   expression   of  his   friend.      Tp'^     ^ 
writes  from  the  side  of  the  sick  bed  to  his  betrothed : 

Our  father  is  remarkable  even  in  his  sickness.  He  is  wishing  and  longing  to 
be  well  again,  and  to  be  able  to  apply  himself  to  his  labors  once  more  ^'>\ 
renewed  strength ;  but  yet  he  looks  peacefully  upon  death,  close  before  rfr . 
One  day  while  his  doctors  were  consulting  about  sending  to  Lausanne  tor  t 
surgeon,  he  asked  them  cheerfully  if  he  must  set  his  house  in  order.  When  th<7 
were  gone,  he  said  to  Elizabeth,  his  faithful  housekeeper,  ( Kriisi 's  sister-in-law  } 
that  he  was  willing  to  die ;  that  the  world  cost  him  no  regrets.  To  be  able  <hi« 
to  look  upon  life  and  the  eternity  is  a  beautiful  and  soul-elevating  thing.  I  am  :- 
hopes  that  God  will  spare  him  to  us  ;  but  I  can  not  tell  you  how  much  I  an 
beneh'tted  by  seeing  his  peacefulness  under  such  circumstances. 

When  the  disease  began  to  yield  to  the  efforts  of  the  physicians, 
Kriisi's  joy  expressed  itself  in  the  following  language  :  "  Had  the  in- 
scrutable providence  of  God  taken  him  from  us,  I  would  not  resign 
for  the  whole  world  the  recollections  of  having  cared  for  him  and  of 
having  been  continually  near  him.  He  takes  every  occasion  of 
expressing  his  pleasure  at  your  return  and  of  blessing  our  union. 
May  God  make  you  happy  with  me.  You  know  my  faith  in  the 
wise  saying,  *  The  father's  blessing  builds  the  childrens'  house,  <fec.'  He 
will  build  our  house  for  us ;  not  of  wood  or  stone,  but  even  if  it  be 
the  most  lowly  hut,  a  dwelling  of  peace,  love,  truth,  and  pious  labor." 
iV-taloz/i  repaid  this  love  with  paternal  tenderness.  With  such 
feelings  he  addressed  to  Kriisi's  intended  the  following  characteristic 
words :  "  Good  day,  Trineli !  as  long  as  things  go  well  let  us  see  each 
other  and  enjov  each  others'  society.  When  things  no  longer  go 
well,  and  you  see  me  no  more,  then  do  you  and  Kriisi  continue  to  do 
right,  and  I  shall  take  pleasure  in  you  on  the  other  side  of  the  grave." 

Still  deeper  in  feeling  are  the  words  which  Pestalozzi,  in  a  Christmas 
address  before  all  the  members  of  the  institution,  addressed  to  Kriisi 
personally.* 

To  Niederer  he  says  : — 

Niederer,  thou  first  of  my  sons,  what  shall  I  say  to  thee?  what  "hall  I  wish 
thee  ?  how  shall  I  thank  thee  ?  thou  piercest  to  the  depths  of  truth,  and  with 
steady  footsteps  goest  through  its  labyrinth.  The  love  of  high  mysteries  condwts 
thee.  Courageously,  with  iron  breast,  thou  throwest  down  the  gauntlet  to  every 
one  who.  wandering  in  by-paths,  strays  from  the  ways  of  truth,  regards  apprarnne'  s 
only,  and  would  deceive  his  God.  Friend  thou  art  my  support :  my  house  K  sts 
upon  thy  heart :  and  thine  eye  beams  a  'ight  which  is  its  health,  though  my 
weakness  often  fears  it.  Niederer  !  preside  over  my  house  like  a  protecting  slar. 
May  peace  dwell  in  thy  soul,  and  may  thine  outward  body  be  no  impediment  to 
thy  spirit.  Thus  will  a  greater  blessing  arise  to  the  help  of  my  weakness  from 
thy  mind  and  thy  heart. 

Kriisi,  be  ever  stronger  in  thy  goodness.  Among  lovely  children,  thyself 
xjvely  and  childlike,  thou  dost  establish  the  spirit  of  the  house  in  its  goodness;  in 
the  spirit  of  holy  love. 


*  Tobler  hnd  already  left  Yverdun. 


HERMANN  KRUSI.  337 

At  thy  side  and  within  thy  '•  'ing  influence,  the  child  in  our  house  no  longer 
feels  that  he  is  without  father  ->r  mother.  Thou  decidest  the  doubt  whether  a 
teacher  can  be  in  the  nlace  o  A  father  and  mother.  Go  and  fill  thy  place  still 
more  efficiently  and  completely. 

Kriisi,  upon  the*  ilso  I  build  great  hopes,  [t  is  not  enough  to  know  the 
method  of  human  education  ;  the  teacher  must  know  the  mild  and  easy  steps  with 
which  the  kind  mother  leads  along  that  road.  That  way  thou  knowest  and 
.goest ;  and  thou  dost  keep  the  child  longer  in  that  loving  road  of  his  first  instruc- 
tion than  even  his  mother  can.  Complete  thy  knowledge;  and  tell  us  the  begin- 
nings of  childish  knowledge,  with  thine  own  inimitable  union  of  childlikeness  and 
definite  ness.  Thou  didst  bring  Niederer  hither  as  thy  brother,  and  livest  with 
him  in  oneness  of  mind  and  soul.  May  the  bond  of  your  old  friendship  ever  knit 
itself  more  closely  ;  you  are  the  firstlings  of  my  house ;  and  the  only  ones  that 
Temain  of  them.  I  am  not  always  of  the  same  mind  with  you ;  but  my  soul 
depends  upon  you.  I  should  no  longer  know  my  house,  and  should  fear  for  its 
-continuance,  were  your  united  strength  to  be  removed  from  it.  But  you  will  not 
leave  it,  beloved,  only  remaining  firstlings  of  my  house. 

We  may  see  from  the  deep  feeling  and  strong  expressions  of  these 
words  how  much  Pestalozzi  valued  Kriisi's  quiet  and  modest  labors, 
and  how  well  Kriisi  deserved  that  value.  Scarcely  one  out  of  twenty 
teachers  has  the  ability  to  enter  fully  into  the  nature  and  needs  of 
children,  to  bear  patiently  with  their  weaknesses,  to  be  pleased  with 
the  smallest  step  of  progress,  and  to  become  fully  accomplished  in 
the  profession.  Upon  the  management  of  such  young  natures,  Kriisi 
gives  hk  opinion  in  a  letter  upon  the  significance  of  the  smallest 
opinions.  We  give  an  extract  from  it,  as  useful  and  important  to  all 
teachers. 

It  requires  much  experience  to  develop  the  heavenly  from  the  earthly.  I  can 
assure  you  of  this,  that  the  world  is  by  no  means  the  comedy  that  it  seems-,  and 
vhat  we  call  indifference  is  often  far  more  definitely  good  or  bad  than  men  con- 
sider. The  common  appearances  of  life  are  only  indifferent  to  us  when  we  do 
not  understand  their  connections,  and  set  too  little  value  upon  their  influence  over 
us,  for  weal  or  woe.  But  the  purer  our  soul  is,  the  clearer  is  our  perception  of 
die  value  or  worthlessness  of  every  day  and  usual  affairs  ;  the  more  do  we  become 
able  to  perceive  fine  distinctions,  and  the  freer  do  we  become  in  our  own  choice 
and  the  more  independent  in  our  connections. 

lie  whose  perceptions  of  the  infinite  varieties  of  plants  have  not  been  cultivated 
sees  nothing  in  the  meadow  but  grass  ;  and  a  whole  mountain  will  contain  for  him 
scarcely  a  dozen  blossoms  which  attract  his  attention.  How  different  is  the  case 
with  him  who  knows  the  wonders  of  their  construction.  He  hears  himself 
adilivssed  from  every  side;  the  smallest  thing  has  significance  for  him;  he  could 
employ  a  thousand  eyes  instead  of  his  two.  In  their  least  parts,  even  to  the  very 
dust  that  clings  to  his  fingers,  he  perceives  mysteries  which  lead  his  mind  to  the 
loftiest  views,  and  give  his  heart  the  liveliest  pleasure.  As  it  is  here  so  it  is 
everywhere.  One  mother  will  see  only  the  coarsest  physical  wants  of  her  child, 
and  hears  it  only  when  it  begins  to  cry.  Another  will  penetrate  entirely  into  its 
inner  being  ;  and  as  she  is  able  to  direct  this,  so  she  is  entirely  different  in  respect 
to  its  outwf  \  management.  Nothing  that  concerns  it  is  indifferent  to  her. 
Every  thing  4r>  expression  of  its  being;  and  thus  even  the  least  thing  acquires 
a  high  signifiean.  a  her  eyes. 

The  small  and  /oveable  children  who  were  so  often  sent  to  the  Pes- 
f&lozzian  institution — much  to  its  credit — always  attached  themselves 
especially  to  Kriisi.  From  his  views  as  above  given,  we  may  imagine 
with  what  wisdom  he  taught  these  little  ones,  and  sought  to  awaken 
their  minds  and  preserve  their  innocence.  To  l.he  same  purpose  are 


IIERMANN  KRUS1. 

the  following  notices  in  his  diary,  which  it  is  true  contain  no  very  im- 
portant facts,  but  which  nevertheless,  are  the  clear  marks  of  a  mai. 
inspired  by  the  holiness  of  his  calling  : 

"  I  often  pray  at  evening  when  T  go  to  bed,  that  the  dear  God  will  let  me  fina 

something  new  in  nature,"  said  W.  M. ,  a  boy  of  ten  years  old,  who  had 

found  in  one  of  his  walks,  a  stone  which  he  had  not  before  known.  This  holy 
habit,  (continues  Kriisi,)  of  referring  every  thing  immediately  to  the  Almighty 
hand,  is  a  sure  sign  of  a  pure  soul ;  every  expression  of  it  was  therefore  of 
infinite  value  to  me.  I  thanked  God  that  by  means  of  it  I  had  been  able  to  see 
further  into  the  heart  of  this  good  child. 

"  It  is  hard  for  me  to  write  a  letter,"  said  S ,  when  he  was  set  to  write  to- 

his  parents,  and  found  it  difficult.  Why  ?  said  I ;  adding,  you  are  now  a  year 
older,  and  ought  to  be  better  able  to  do  it.  "  Yes,"  said  he,  "  but  a  year  ago  1 
could  say  every  thing  I  knew ;  but  now  I  know  more  than  I  can  say."  This 
answer  astonished  me.  It  came  from  deep  within  the  being  of  the  child.  Every 
child,  in  his  liking  and  capacity  for  writing  letters,  must  pass  through  periods^ 
which  it  is  necessary  for  his  parents  or  teachers  to  know,  lest  without  knowing  or 
wishing  it,  they  should  do  the  children  some  harm. 

E ,  nine  years  old,  said  yesterday,  "  One  who  is  clever  should  not  be  told 

what  '  clever '  means.  But  one  who  is  stupid  will  not  understand  it,  and  he  may 
be  told  as  much  as  you  like." 

Th.  T ,  six  years  old,  sees  God  everywhere  as  an  omnipresent  man  before 

him.  God  gives  the  birds  their  food  5  God  has  a  thousand  hands  5  God  sits  upon 
all  the  trees  and  flowers. 

J.  T ,  on  the  contrary,  has  an  entirely  different  view  of  God.  To  him  he 

is  a  being  far  off,  but  who  from  afar  sees,  hears,  and  controls  every  thing.  Are 
you  also  dear  to  God  ?  I  asked  him.  "  I  do  not  know,"  he  answered  ;  "but  I 
know  that  you  are  dear  to  him.  All  good  men  arc  dear  to  him."  I  was  so  as- 
tonished to  hear  the  child  thus  express  his  views  of  God,  and  of  myself,  and  his 
childlike  respect  and  dependence  upon  his  teacher,  that  I  dared  question  him  no 
longer,  lest  I  should  not  treat  with  sufficient  tenderness  and  wisdom,  this  spark 
of  the  divine. 

These  extracts  will  sufficiently  show  that  Kriisi  considered  the 
hearts  of  his  pupils  as  holy  things,  which  it  was  his  business  to  keep 
in  the  right  path.  He  was  never  ashamed,  even  in  his  old  age,  ta 
learn  from  children  ;  and  the  traits  and  efforts  of  earliest  childhood 
often  afforded  him  help  in  the  construction  of  a  natural  system  of 
instruction. 

Every  child  that  I  have  ever  observed,  writes  Kriisi,  in  his  "Efforts  and 
Experiences,"  (Bestrebungen  tind  Erfahrungen,)  during  all  my  life,  has  pass.-d 
through  certain  remarkable  questioning  periods,  which  seem  to  originate  from  hi* 
inner  being.  After  each  had  passed  through  the  early  time  of  lisping  and  stam- 
mering, into  that  of  speaking,  and  had  come  to  the  questioning  period,  he  re- 
oeated  at  every  new  phenomenon,  the  question,  "What  is  that?"  If  for 
answer  he  received  a  name  of  the  thing,  it  completely  satisfied  him  ;  he  wished  t' 
know  no  more.  After  a  number  of  months,  a  second  state  made  its  appearance 
.n  which  the  child  followed  its  first  question  with  a  second  :  "  What  is  there  ii 
it  ?"  After  some  more  months,  there  came  of  itself  the  third  question  :  "  Whc 
made  it?"  and  lastly,  the  fourth,  "What  do  they  do  with  it?"  These  questions 
had  much  interest  for  me,  and  I  spent  much  reflection  upon  them.  In  the  end  it 
became  clear  to  me,  that  the  child  had  struck  out  the  right  method  for  developing 
its  thinking  faculties.  In  the  first  question.  "What  is  that?"  he  was  try  ing  to  g«'t 
a  consciousness  of  the  thing  lying  before  him.  By  the  second,  "  What  is  tlier* 
in  it?"  he  was  trying  to  perceive  and  understand  its  interior,  and  its  general  and 
special  marks.  The  third,  "Who  made  it?"  pointed  towards  the  origin  and 
creation  of  the  thing  ;  and  the  fourth,  "  What  do  they  do  with  it  ?"  evidently  points 
at  the  use,  and  design  of  the  thing.  Thus  this  series  of  questions  seemed  to  me- 


HERMANN   KRU81.  389 

to  include  in  itself  the  complete  system  of  mental  training.  That  this  originated 
with  the  child  is  not  only  no  objection  to  it,  but  is  strong  indication  that  the  laws 
of  thought  are  within  the  nature  of  the  child  in  their  simplest  and  most  ennobling 
form. 

That  Kriisi  was  now  writing  his  experiences  with  a  view  to  others, 
and  was  continually  occupying  his  mind  with  reflections  upon  all 
the  appearances  of  nature  and  of  life,  the  following  words  show : 

Thus  I  have  again  gained  a  whole  hour  of  instruction.  I  had  four  divisions  in 
mental  arithmetic.  Each  of  them,  as  soon  as  it  had  found  the  clue,  taught  itself; 
all  that  I  had  to  do  was  to  oversee,  and  to  assist.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  teach  in  that 
way,  and  a  sweet  consciousness  rewards  the  labor.  But  still,  arithmetic  is  not  the 
chief  subject  which  occupies  my  mind.  For  had  I  the  opportunity,  I  could  do 
something  in  the  investigation  of  language.  For  if  matters  turn  out  as  I  am  in 
hopes  they  may,  I  shall  give  some  proof  that  I  have  not  lived  in  vain.  The  study 
of  language  leads  me  on  the  one  hand  to  nature  and  on  the  other  to  the  Bible. 
To  study  the  phenomena  of  the  former,  and  to  become  familiar  with  the  contents 
of  the  latter,  are  the  two  great  objects  which  now  demand  from  me  much  time, 
much  industry,  and  a  pure  and  natural  observation  of  childish  character. 

The  little  work  alluded  to  in  the  above  lines,  bears  the  title,  "  Bib- 
lical views  upon  the  works  and  ways  of  God."  (Biblische  Ansichten 
uber  die  werke  und  wege  Gottes ;)  and  in  it  the  exposition  of  God's 
operations  in  nature,  stated  in  Biblical  language,  was  carried  through 
upon  a  regular  plan.  Kriisi  would  perhaps  have  undertaken  the  work 
in  a  different  manner  at  a  later  period ;  but  the  Bible  was  always  to 
him  a  valued  volume,  in  which  he  studied  not  only  the  divine  teach- 
ings and  similitudes  of  the  New  Testament,  but  also  the  lofty  natural 
descriptions  of  Moses,  Job,  David,  &c.  The  charge  of  deficiency  in 
biblical  religious  feeling  has  often  been  brought  against  the  Pestaloz- 
zians.  For  my  part  I  can  testify  that  even  the  first  of  them  had 
studied  the  Bible  through  and  through,  and  placed  uncommon  value 
upon  it.  Their  child-like  faith  and  love  for  everything  good  and  true, 
fitted  them  especially  for  doing  so  ;  moreover,  they  were  inspired  by 
Pestalozzi's  energetic  Christianity.  The  fact  that  they  always  endeav- 
ored to  bring  a  religious  spirit  into  every  study,  and  especially  into 
that  of  language,  by  awakening  a  love  of  truth,  and  an  active  prepara- 
tion for  every  thing  good  and  beautiful,  is  a  clear  proof  that  a  high 
and  Christian  ideal  was  always  before  their  eyes. 

Kriisi's  heart  was,  so  to  speak,  in  love  with  the  beauties  of  nature 
all  his  life.  In  his  seventieth  year,  every  flower,  tree,  sunrise  and 
sunset,  spoke  to  him  as  distinctly  as  the  first  time  he  saw  them.  He 
perceived  in  nature  that  plain  impression  of  the  divine  energy  which 
is  often  dim  to  adult  men,  and  is  most  plainly  seen  by  children.  And 
he  always  returned  to  nature  to  learn  from  her.  How  she  awakened 
his  sensibilities  will  appear  from  the  following  extract  which  he- 
wrote  in  his  diary  and  afterward  sent  to  his  betrothed  : 

It  is  Sunday,  ;md  a  divinely  beautiful  morning.  More  than  an  hour  before  the' 
Ming  cf  tin-  sun,  the  brightness  of  the  morning  light  could  be  sc'en  upon  tho- 


340  HERMANN  KRUSI 

summits  of  the  great  Alpine  chain,  from  Mont.  Blanc,  to  the  Titlis  in  Unterwalden. 
Now  the  majestic  sun  himself  in  heavenly  splendor,  arises  and  lights  up  everything 
before  me.  Why  does  he  begin  his  course  so  quietly  that  we  must  watch  like  a 
sparrow  hawk,  lest  he  escape  our  attention  and  stand  there  before  us  unawares  ? 
If  the  roll  of  the  thunder  were  to  accompany  his  rising,  how  exceedingly  seldom 
would  the  dwellers  in  cities  and  villages  keep  themselves  away  from  this  divine 
spectacle,  which  no  other  earthly  show  even  approaches  ?  And  yet  none  will  be 
away  when  the  roll  of  the  drum  announces  the  coming  of  an  earthly  prince.  So 
I  thought  for  a  moment ;  but  soon  saw  the  silliness  of  my  meditations.  It  is  the 
very  nature  of  light  to  distribute  its  blessings  in  silence.  In  the  moral  world  it 
is  the  same.  The  nearer  one  approaches  to  the  fountain  of  life,  the  more  silent 
are  his  endeavors  to  spread  around  him  light  and  blessings. 

At  the  breaking  of  such  a  day  it  is  as  if  a  world  were  being  created  again. 
Light,  air,  water,  land,  plants,  beasts,  and  men,  appear  to  our  eyes  almost  in  the 
same  order  in  which  they  were  created. 

How  quickly  is  everything  done  which  our  Lord  God  creates  !  and  how  fright- 
fully slow  are  we  in  understanding  even  the  smallest  of  them  !  And  besides  all 
this  quickness  in  creating,  and  slowness  in  comprehending,  how  infinite  is  the 
number  of  things  which  God  places  before  our  eyes!  No  wonder  that  our  knowl- 
edge always  remains  mere  patchwork,  and  that  we  have  to  postpone  so  many 
things  to  the  other  side  of  the  grave,  in  the  hope  that  there,  free  from  the  bonds 
of  the  earthly  body,  we  shall  progress  with  an  ever  increasing  speed  from  knowl- 
edge to  knowledge,  and  shall  clearly  understand  how  everything  exists,  in  God, 
which  was  dim  and  perplexed  to  us  here. 

A  strong  and  encouraging  indication  of  our  own  inward  worth  appears  in  the 
expression,  "  The  spirit  explaineth  all  things,  even  the  deep  things  of  God."  But 
it  is  a  trouble  to  most  men,  that  they  cannot  approach  God  by  some  other  means 
than  by  the  spirit;  by  their  perceptions,  or  by  their  knowledge.  He  only  can 
approach  God  by  the  spirit,  to  whom  nature  opens  her  mysteries  ;  to  whom  her 
operations  and  her  purposes  are  known.  But  how  few  are  there  who  attain  ev.-n 
to  an  A  B  C  of  knowledge  of  the  world,  from  which,  as  from  a  living  spring,  they 
may  gain  a  pure  and  worthy  conception  of  their  creator.  How  often  must  even 
he  who  has  made  the  study  of  nature  the  business  of  his  life,  whose  knowledge 
surpasses  that  of  millions  of  his  fellow  beings,  stand  still  before  the  most  common 
physical,  mental,  or  moral  phenomenon,  and  exclaim  :  such  mystery  is  too  won- 
derful for  me,  and  too  high  ;  I  can  not  understand  it. 

Then  hail  to  thee,  human  heart !  Through  thy  feelings  is  it,  that  we  can  ap 
proach  more  nearly  to  God  than  through  our  intellectual  powers. 

The  fundamental  human  relation  is  that  of  childhood.  It  is  based  entirely  upon 
love.  Without  our  own  consent  we  enter  into  it.  And  this  same  condition  is 
again  the  highest  aim  which  man  can  propose  to  himself,  as  his  best  preparative 
for  heaven.  The  mind  loses  nothing  by  this  preeminence  of  the  heart ;  on  the 
contrary,  it  is  this  very  preeminence  in  the  growth  of  feeling,  and  in  purity, 
which  gives  a  higher  character  to  the  power  and  exercise  of  the  mind. 

The  effort  of  men  to  know  things  here,  as  God  knows  them,  to  display  the 
order  of  the  heavens,  the  powers  of  the  earth,  and  the  relation  of  the  mind,  in  the 
light  of  earthly  truth,  are  a  holy  trait  of  humanity,  but  men  in  general  can  not 
find  rest  by  these  efforts.  Everything  elevating  in  the  idea  of  the  creator  and 
ruler  of  the  world  must  appear  to  them  under  the  mild  aspect  of  a  father,  if  it  is 
to  be  beneficial  and  elevating  to  them.  Without  this  appearance,  his  omnipotence 
would  be  fearful  to  the  weak  mortal,  his  presence  painful,  his  wisdom  indifferent, 
and  his  justice  a  two  edged  sword,  which  hangs  continually  over  his  head  and 
threatens  to  destroy  him.  Only  by  childlike  faith  in  the  fatherhood  of  God  can 
our  race  feel  itself  cared  for,  elevated,  supported  and  guided  ;  or  cultivate  confi- 
dence, gratitude,  love  and  hope,  without  a  destructive  conflict  with  opposing  feelings. 

The  reestablishment  of  this  child -like  condition  and  the  revivification  of  the 
holiness  which  proceeds  from  it,  are  the  things  by  which  Christ  has  opened  a  way 
to  God,  and  become  the  saviour  of  the  world. 

Through  him  is  it  that  the  pure  in  heart  may  see  God.  The  simplest  man  baa 
the  powers  necessary  for  this  purpose.  They  are  only  the  powers  that  the  child 
exerts  when  he  recognizes  the  love  of  his  parents,  in  the  care  which  they  bestow 
upon  him. 


HERMANN    KRUSI.  341 

Truly,  it  is  wonderful  how  both  termini  of  the  development  of  our  nature— the 
being  a  child,  and  the  becoming  a  child  of  God,  should  be  so  nearly  connected 
with  each  other. 

A  holy  confidence  in  God  is  shown  in  the  letters  in  which  he 
speaks  of  his  prospects  for  a  certain  support  in  the  future.  His  be- 
trothed, who  like  him  had  been  left  destitute  by  the  storm  of  the 
revolution,  had  wandered  away  from  Glarus,  her  native  land,  with  a 
troop  of  poor  children,  and  had  been  received  and  supported  by  some 
respectable  and  benevolent  people  in  Zurich,  had  of  course  no  prop- 
erty :  and  Krusi's  new  place  with  Pestalozzi,  had  much  more  attract- 
ion for  the  friend  and  follower,  than  for  one  prudent  in  pecuniary 
matters.  Although  Krusi's  approaching  marriage  must  have  made  a 
certain  income  more  desirable  to  him,  he  still  felt  no  solicitude  about 
it,  like  a  true  believer  in  the  words  of  Jesus,  "Take  ye  no  thought," 
etc.,  but  expressed  himself  as  follows  : 

God  will  provide.  Whoever  is  conscious  of  strong  love  and  honest  aims  in 
lift.-,  should  act  with  freedom,  and  believe  in  the  prophecy  that  all  things  will  be 
for  the  best.  Has  not  the  being  who  guides  all  things,  thus  far  watched  wonder- 
fully and  benevolently  over  us  and  our  connection  ?  Many  are  troubled  lest  they 
shall  not  receive  what  is  their  own.  Is  it  carelessness  in  me  that  I  have  no  such 
feelings  ? 

I  thank  God  for  the  powers  which  he  has  given  you  and  me  for  our  duties ;  I 
feel  much  more  solicitude  that  we  may  use  these  powers  worthily  of  the  benevo- 
lent God.  At  every  rising  of  uneasiness  I  seem  to  hear  God  saying  to  me  as 
Christ  did  to  his  disciples  on  the  sea,  4i  Oh  ye  of  little  faith  !" 

Kriisi  at  last  managed  to  complete  the  indispensable  arrangements 
for  bringing  his  wife  from  Miihlhausen  ;  and  he  was  married  at  Lenz- 
burg,  in  1812.  His  wife  entered  with  confidence  upon  her  new 
sphere  of  life,  with  a  man  who  was  not  only  her  lover,  but  her  teacher 
and  her  paternal  friend.  He  was  not  an  inexperienced  youth,  but  a 
man  thirty-seven  years  old,  in  the  prime  of  his  strength,  and  with  a 
ripeness  of  experience  and  thought,  seldom  found  even  at  his  years. 
His  wife  too,  although  considerably  younger,  had  also  seen  the  rougher 
side  of  life,  and  had  also  felt  the  inspiring  influence  of  a  right  method 
of  education. 

After  his  marriage,  Kriisi  occupied  a  private  house  near  the  castle, 
where  he  had  charge  of  the  deaf  and  dumb  children  of  his  friend 
Naf,  as  long  as  his  connection  as  teacher  with  the  Pestalozzian 
institution  continued.  This  now  soon  came  to  an  end,  and  under  cir- 
cumstances so  unpleasant  that  we  should  prefer  to  be  silent  upon 
them,  were  it  not  for  removing  from  one  of  Pestalozzi's  oldest  teach- 
ers the  charge  of  ingratitude,  which  many  well  informed  readers  have 
believed  in  consequence  of  this  separation. 

There  has  seldom  been  a  man  who  has  had  so  many  friends  and  so 
few  enemies,  among  so  great  a  variety  of  men,  as  Kriisi ;  thanks  to 
his  mild  and  peace  loving  disposition.  It  was  his  principle  always 


342  HERMANN    KRUSI 

rather  to  withdraw  himself,  than  to  make  the  evil  greater  by  obstinacy 
or  violence  in  maintaining-  his  views.  This  habit  stood  him  in  good 
stead  in  the  quarrel  which  at  this  time  threatened  to  destroy  Pesta- 
lozzi's  institution.  But  how  was  it  possible,  it  may  be  asked,  that  men 
engaged  in  such  a  noble  enterprise,  could  not  go  on  in  harmony  with 
each  other?  It  was  the  work  of  one  man,  a  graduate  of  the  Pesta- 
lozzian  institution,  endowed  with  uncommon  mathematical  talents, 
who  sacrificed  the  peace  of  the  institution  to  his  unbounded  ambition. 
This  man,  Schmid  by  name,  had  contrived,  under  the  name  of  a 
guardian,  to  gain  the  entire  control  of  the  aged  Pestalozzi,  and  little 
by  little  to  alienate  him  from  all  his  old  friends.  As  early  as  1808, 
Kriisi  had  concluded  that  he  could  not  with  honor  remain  longer  in 
the  institution,  and  had  accordingly  written  an  affecting  letter  of 
farewell  to  Pestalozzi,  from  which  we  make  the  following  extracts  : 

Dear  Herr  Pestalozzi : 

God  knows  that  I  have  always  sought  with  an  honest  heart,  the  accomplish- 
ment of  your  holy  plans.  Whenever  I  have  thought  it  necessary  to  differ  from 
you,  it  has  been  without  any  ulterior  views,  from  love  for  you  and  for  the  good 
of  humanity. 

For  eight  years  the  undisturbed  possession  of  your  paternal  love  has  made  me 
the  happiest  of  men.  Your  present  expressions  upon  the  sequel  of  this  relation, 
pierce  so  much  the  more  deeply,  the  less  I  feel  that  they  are  deserved.  (Here 
follow  some  reasons  for  his  withdrawal.) 

If  it  shall  be  permitted  to  me  to  live  for  the  darlings  of  your  heart,  the  poor, 
and  to  prepare  their  children  to  receive  the  benefits  which  your  efforts  have  se- 
cured for  them,  there  will  again  awaken  in  your  soul  some  faith  in  my  gratitude, 
my  love,  and  my  earnest  endeavor  not  to  have  lived  by  your  side,  in  vain. 

Still  further,  dearest  Pestalozzi  ;  if  I  have  been  to  blame  toward  you,  it  was  only 
by  error.  Forgive  the  child  who  with  sorrow  and  grief  tears  himself  away  from 
his  father  and  his  friend. 

Whether  this  letter  was  delivered  to  Pestalozzi,  is  not  known. 
Kriisi  did  not  leave  at  that  time,  although  Tobler  did,  dissatisfied  for 
various  reasons,  and  sought  another  field  of  labor  at  Basle. 

Schmid  was  at  last,  in  1810,  removed  from  the  institution,  and  for 
a  few  years  the  old  good  understanding  prevailed  there  again.  But 
when  he  returned  and  took  charge  of  the  financial  department,  (Pes- 
talozzi, who  was  well  known  for  a  bad  housekeeper,  not  being  compe- 
tent for  it,)  the  quarrel  came  up  again,  directed  this  time  chiefly 
against  Niederer  and  his  noble  wife,  but  also  against  all  the  other  faith- 
ful laborers  in  the  institution.  Thus,  by  a  departure  of  many  of  the 
best  teachers,  especially  the  German  ones,  it  lost  many  of  its  brightest 
ornaments;  and  in  the  year  1816,  Kriisi  also,  with  a  bleeding  heart, 
sent  his  resignation  to  Pestalozzi,  whom  even  in  his  error  he  loved  and 
respected  ;  but  for  whom  at  that  time  another  person  spoke,  in  terms 
of  the  bitterest  contempt,  and  most  irritating  coldness.  There  is, 
however,  some  trace  of  the  old  affection,  in  Pestalozzi's  answer  to 
Krusi's  letter : 


HERMANN  KRUSI.  343 

With  sorrow  I  see  a  connection  dissolved,  which  I  would  willingly  have  contin- 
ued unto  my  death,  had  it  been  possible.  It  was  not,  however,  and  I  receive  your 
•explanation  with  the  affection  which  I  have  always  felt  for  you,  praying  God  to 
better  my  pecuniary  condition,  so  that  I  may  be  enabled  before  my  death  to  show 
that  I  respect  the  relation  in  which  I  have  so  long  stood  to  you.  Greet  your  wife 
and  embrace  your  child  for  me,  and  believe  me  ever  your  true  friend, 

Yverdun,  17th  Feb.,  1816.  PESTALOZZI. 

In  the  letter  of  Kriisi,  just  quoted,  he  expresses  his  earnest  wish 
to  labor  for  the  education  of  the  poor.  The  same  is  found  in  the  fol- 
lowing to  his  betrothed ;  "  My  inmost  wish  is  to  be  able  to  labor  in 
some  way,  according  to  the  idea  of  our  father,  for  the  education  of 
poor  children.  We  both  know  what  poverty  is,  and  how  sorely  the 
children  of  the  poor  need  help,  that  they  may  live  worthy  and  satis- 
factory lives.  It  is  for  us  to  afford  this  help.  I  feel  it  my  vocation, 
and  feel  that  I  have  the  ability,  to  do  for  the  poor  whatever  God  has 
rendered  me  capable  of  doing.  You  must  help  me.  Female  instinct 
must  join  with  manly  strength  for  the  accomplishment  of  this  object." 

The  wish  thus  expressed  was  never  gratified.  It  was  to  be  Kriisi's 
chief  occupation  to  instruct  the  children  of  parents  in  good  circum- 
stances, until  at  a  later  period  his  situation  in  a  seminary  whose  pupils 
were  then,  and  have  been  since,  mostly  from  the  poorer  classes,  and 
who  thus  have  influence  both  upon  the  poor  and  the  rich,  at  least  per- 
mitted it  partial  gratification. 

After  his  separation  from  Pestalozzi,  Krusi  set  about  the  establish- 
ment of  an  institution  of  his  own,  which  he  did  in  fact  afterward 
open,  with  very  little  other  help  than  his  confidence  in  God.  He 
purchased  a  small  house,  pleasantly  situated  on  the  Orbe,  by  the 
assistance  of  a  benevolent  friend,  who  lent  him  a  considerable  sum, 
without  security,  and  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  an  increasing  number 
of  parents  send  their  children  to  him.  It  was  especially  gratifying  to 
his  patriotism  that  his  first  pupils  were  from  his  native  place  of  Gais, 
where  they  yet  live  as  respectable  citizens.  In  his  institution  he  pro- 
ceeded upon  the  Pestalozzian  plans  ;  and  the  happiness  of  his  labors 
was  only  troubled  by  the  knowledge  that  his  paternal  friend  was  con- 
tinually more  closely  entangled  in  the  snares  of  the  intriguing 
Schmid,  so  that  even  Niederer  was  forced  to  leave  the  institution  in 
1817. 

Although  Kriisi  was  now  happily  established  as  father  of  a  family, 
his  first  child  was  born  in  1814,  and  teacher  of  a  prosperous  school, 
yet  another  destiny  was  before  him,  and  as  previously,  without  his 
own  cooperation. 

In  his  own  little  native  territory,  the  public-spirited  Hans  Caspar 
Zellweger  and  others,  had  conceived  the  useful  idea  of  seeing  a  canto- 
nal school  for  the  higher  education  of  native  youth,  who  were  then 


HERMANN  KRUSI. 

able  to  command  no  other  means  of  instruction  in  their  own  country 
than  the  ordinary  village  school.  Herr  Zuberbiihler  was  appointed  to- 
the  charge  of  the  institution.  He  had  been  in  the  troop  of  poor 
children  who  went  with  Kriisi  to  Burgdorf ;  and  was  peculiarly  fitted 
for  his  place,  by  his  acquirements  and  by  the  mildness  of  his  charac- 
ter. But  man  proposes  and  God  disposes.  Zuberbiihler  was  soon 
seized  by  an  illness,  which  brought  him  to  the  edge  of  the  grave,  and 
which  profoundly  impressed  him  with  the  idea  of  his  own  helplessness 
and  the  danger  from  it  to  his  institution.  It  being  necessary  to 
employ  another  teacher,  he  invited  Kriisi,  who  was  now  well  known 
in  that  neighborhood  since  his  abode  near  it,  and  who  had  besides 
during  the  journey  into  Appenzell,  in  1819,  made  himself  acquainted 
with  various  influential  men  there.  Soon  after  this  journey  he  made 
another  to  Karlsruhe,  Frankfort,  Wiesbaden  and  Schnepfeuthal,  near 
Gotha,  where  he  visited  the  excellent  Gutsmuths,  who  has  done  so- 
much  for  the  art  of  gymnastics.  It  was  in  1822  that  the  news  of 
Zuberbiihler's  illness  reached  him,  and  of  his  own  invitation  to  the 
place  of  director.  The  prospect  of  being  useful  to  his  fatherland  was- 
irresistible  to  him  ;  and  he  was  also  influenced  by  the  promises  of  an 
assured  income  and  of  entire  freedom  in  modes  of  instruction.  The 
reputation  of  his  own  institution  was  already  great,  as  will  be  under- 
stood from  Kriisi's  own  mention  of  the  fact  as  a  rare  one,  that  even 
while  he  was  at  Yverdun,  pupils  were  sent  to  him  from  three-quarters 
of  the  world ;  some  by  French  merchants  from  Alexandria,  in  Egypt, 
and  one  from  the  capital  of  Persia,  Teheran,  800  leagues  distant. 
This  may,  however,  be  in  some  measure  ascribed  to  the  fame  of  the 
Pestalozzian  institution.  A  very  respectable  lady  from  Memel  had 
besides  taken  lodgings  in  Krusi's  house  with  her  two  daughters,  in 
order  to  learn  under  his  guidance  how  to  instruct  them  ;  and  the 
same  thing  happened  afterwards  with  an  English  family  at  Gais. 
Kriisi,  however,  did  not  hesitate  long,  but  accepted  Zellweger's  offei 
in  a  respectful  letter.  He  himself  went  first  alone  to  Trogen,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  his  sick  friend,  Zuberbiihler.  He  says,  "  When  I  entered 
the  room  Zuberbiihler  put  his  hands  before  his  eyes  and  burst  into- 
tears.  It  relieved  his  heart  to  know  that  I  had  come  to  continue  the 
work  which  he  had  so  well  begun."  In  fact,  he  grew  better  from  that 
very  day,  and  was  soon  completely  well.  In  his  native  place  of  Gais, 
Kriisi  attached  himself,  especially  to  his  early  friend  Kern,  who  had 
traveled  to  Yverdun  to  see  him.  He  also  had  the  great  pleasure  of 
finding  his  old  friend,  the  good-natured  Tobler,  at  the  head  of  an 
institution  in  St.  Gall ;  where  afterwards  he  often  visited  him. 
Having  after  a  time  removed  thither  his  effects  and  his  family,  Kriisi 


HERMANN  KRtlSl.  345- 

with  his  two  assistants,  pastor  Banziger  from  Wolfhalden,  and  Egli 
from  Hittnem,  commenced  operations  in  his  new  place,  in  the  cantonal 
school  at  Trogen. 

Want  of  space  will  oblige  me  to  be  brief  in  our  account  of  Kriisi's 
stay  at  Trogen  and  Gais.  Most  readers  are  however  better  acquainted 
with  this  part  of  his  life  than  with  the  earlier.  This  earlier  period  is 
especially  valuable  for  teachers,  as  being  that  of  the  Pestalozzian 
discoveries,  and  of  the  enthusiasm  which  attended  them.  The  later 
period  is  occupied  more  particularly  with  the  further  development  of 
it.  The  institution  at  Trogen  soon  gained  reputation.  At  first,  most 
of  the  pupils  were  from  Appenzell ;  but  afterwards  quite  a  number 
came  from  the  canton  and  city  of  Zurich,  and  a  less  number  from  the 
cantons  of  Biindten,  Thurgan,  St.  Gall  and  Basle,  and  several  from 
Milan.  There  was  an  annual  exhibition,  which  was  always  interest- 
ing, both  as  showing  the  progress  of  the  pupils,  and  the  spirit  of  the 
institution,  and  from  the  addresses  made  by  the  director,  and  Herren 
Kasper  Zellweger,  and  Dean  Frei ;  most  of  which  have  also  appeared 
in  print.  The  situation  of  the  institution,  in  a  somewhat  retired 
place,  had  the  advantage  of  withdrawing  the  pupils  from  material 
pleasures  and  the  attractions  of  the  world  ;  in  the  stead  of  which  were 
offered  many  enjoyments  of  a  nobler  kind  in  the  pleasure  of  nature, 
and  in  the  use  of  an  excellent  play-ground  and  garden.  Although 
none  of  the  studies,  (which  included  the  ancient  and  modern  langua- 
ges,) were  carried  so  far  as  in  many  institutions  of  a  higher  grade,  its 
results  were  very  favorable,  from  the  harmonious  labors  of  the  three 
teachers,  and  from  the  efficient  character  of  the  method  by  which 
Krusi  aimed  always  at  increasing  the  capabilities  of  his  scholars,  and 
the  industry  of  most  of  the  pupils.  There  were,  it  is  true,  sad  excep- 
tions ;  and  if  the  teachers  did  not  succeed  with  any  such  pupils,  there 
were  often  put  under  their  charge  a  number  of  ill-taught  or  orphan 
children.  Many  were  by  Kriisi's  friendly  and  earnest  admonitions, 
caused  to  reflect,  and  brought  into  the  path  of  virtue,  no  more  to 
leave  it.  Krusi,  who  always  himself  took  charge  of  the  instruction 
and  management  of  such  pupils,  tried  mild  methods  at  first,  as  long 
as  he  had  any  hopes  of  succeeding  with  them ;  at  lessons  he  was 
cheerful,  pursuing  every  study  with  love  and  pleasantly  encouraging 
every  smile  from  his  scholars  which  proceeded  from  honest  animation. 
He  became  severe  however  upon  the  appearance  of  any  falsehood,, 
rudeness  or  immorality,  and  at  such  times  every  one  feared  the  wrath 
of  the  angry  and  troubled  father. 

In  1832,  one  of  the  places  of  assistant  teacher  became  vacant  by 
the  death  of  Herr   pastor  Biiriziger,  in  whose  stead  he  placed  Herr 


346  HERMANN    KRUSI. 

Siegfried  of  Zurich,  an  active  and  learned  man.  Meanwhile  anoth^i 
change  was  at  hand  in  Kriisi's  lot.  His  earnest  wish  to  devote  him- 
self to  the  training  of  teachers  was  to  be  gratified ;  although  even  in 
the  cantonal  school  he  had  done  something  in  this  direction. 

Since  the  year  1830  the  cause  of  popular  education  had  been  gain- 
ing new  life  in  many  cantons  of  Switzerland.  Funds  were  raised  in 
many  places  for  the  establishment  of  new  schools  which  were  to  be 
assisted  by  the  State ;  the  position  of  teacher  began  to  be  considered 
more  respectable,  and  to  be  better  paid  ;  although  neither  a  fair 
price  nor  this  respect  were  paid  in  more  than  a  few  places.  Clear- 
minded  men  however  saw  that  in  order  to  the  improvement  of  popu- 
lar education,  the  teacher  must  first  be  educated ;  that  for  this 
purpose  teachers'  seminaries  must  be  established.  The  question  of 
the  choice  of  a  director  for  the  seminary  at  Zurich,  being  under  con- 
sideration, Kriisi  was  mentioned  by  various  persons,  and  particularly 
by  the  celebrated  composer  and  firm  admirer  of  Pestalozzi,  Nageli. 
Although  this  place,  as  the  sequel  showed,  was  not  the  right  one  for 
Kriisi,  he  still  considered  it  his  duty  to  think  over  the  matter,  and  to 
•communicate  his  views  upon  it,  which  he  did  in  a  letter  to  his  friend 
Bod m er,  at  Zurich,  from  which  we  extract  the  following : 

The  higher  education  was  always  the  field  in  which  I  hoped  to  labor,  if  it  were 
th'-  \\ill  of'  God,  and  to  plant  in  it  some  good  seed  for  the  common  schools  of  my 
native  land.  Thirty  years  ago,  I  hoped  that  I  had  found  such  a  Held,  in  the  Swiss 
seminary,  established  in  1802,  by  the  Helvetian  government,  under  Pestalozzi  as 
teacher.  The  act  of  mediation  broke  up  the  plan  by  disuniting  tli«-  cantons,  and 
the  schools  for  the  common  people  with  them ;  but  the  investigation  of  the  laws 
of  i-dneation  had  always  been  since  that  a  favorite  pursuit  with  me.  During  a 
rich  experience  at  Prstalozzi's  side,  and  during  researches  up  to  this  time  uninter- 
rupted, for  the  purpose  of  establishing  a  system  of  natural  education,  it  has  been 
my  hope  to  be  able  to  labor  efficiently  for  the  school  system  of  my  native  land. 
The  canton  of  Zurich  is  one  which  rather  than  any  other  I  would  glady  see  the 
first  in  Switzerland  in  furthering  this  most  high  and  noble  object.  But  I  ought 
not  to  hide  from  you  my  fears,  whether  : 

1.  I  can  count  upon  being  able  to  carry  out  Pestalozzi's  system  of  elementary 
education,  freely  and  without  hindrance.     In  that  I  recognize  the  only  means  of 
awakening  the  intellectual  life  of  the  teacher,  or  of  bringing  the  same  into  the 
«chool. 

2.  The  strict  necessity  of  cooperating  labor  would  be  regarded  in  the  choice  of 
a  second  teacher.     They  should  each  supplement  the  work  of  the  other  ;  and  this 
•can  only  happen  when  their  efforts  are  put  forth  in  the  same  spirit   and  for  the 
same  object. 

3.  There  should  be  a  model  school,  which  I  consider  an  indisputable  necessity 
for  the  seminary.     It  is  not  as  a  place  of  probation  for  new  scholars  that  I  desire 
this,  but   as   affording   an   example  of  the  correct   bodily,  material,  moral  and 
religious  training  of  the  children. 

4.  Sufficient  care  should  be  taken  in  the  selection  of  a  place  for  the  seminary, 
that  the  supervision  of  its  morals  should  be  as  much  facilitated  as  possible.     The 
pupils  of  such  a  seminary  are  usually  of  an  age  most  difficult  to  manage ;  and 
their  own  moral  character  subsequently  has  a  strong  influence  upon  that  of  their 
•scholars. 

When  Kriisi  at  last  entered  upon  his  long  desired  field  of  labor,  in 
1833,  being  appointed  director  of  the  teachers'  seminary,  erected  in 


HERMANN  KRUSI.  317 

that  year,  he  felt  the  liveliest  pleasure.  The  object  of  his  life  seemed 
to  him  now  to  stand  in  a  clear  light  before  him,  and  to  open  to  him 
the  prospect  that  his  country  men  would  reap  the  harvest,  whose  seed 
he  had  sown  in  the  spring  of  youth,  and  watched  over  in  the  sum- 
mer. Honor  to  our  Grand  Council,  and  to  those  who  were  the  cause 
of  the  resolution,  to  spread  such  manifold  blessings  among  our  people 
and  blooming  youth.  Honor  to  them,  that  they  gave  to  poor  but 
upright  and  study-loving  youth,  the  means  of  training  themselves  for 
teachers  in  their  own  country,  and  of  learning  its  necessities,  that  they 
might  be  able  to  labor  for  their  relief.  With  gratitude  to  God,  the 
wise  disposer  of  his  fate,  Kriisi  left  the  cantonal  school,  and  proceeded 
to  Gais ;  recalling  with  emotion  the  time  forty  years  before,  when  as 
an  ignorant  youth  he  had  there  taken  up  the  profession  of  teaching, 
himself  afterward  to  become  a  teacher  of  teachers. 

He  considered  the  years  of  his  labor  in  Gais,  among  the  happiest 
of  his  life.  To  pass  the  evening  of  his  days  in  his  native  country  and 
liis  native  town,  to  communicate  the  accumulated  treasures  of  his 
teachings  and  experience  to  intelligent  youth,  to  labor  surrounded  by 
his  own  family  and  with  their  aid,  and  to  benefit  so  many  pupils,  all 
tins  was  the  utmost  that  he  had  ever  dared  wish  for.  This  wish  was 
however  to  be  entirely  realized.  He  conducted  five  courses,  attended 
•by  sixty-four  pupils,  and  with  the  assistance  of  his  valued  friend,  pas- 
tor Weishaupt,  of  his  own  eldest  son,  and  of  Gahler,  a  graduate  of  the 
seminary  itself.  During  the  latter  course  death  overtook  him. 

A  boys'  school,  and  a  girls'  school  conducted  by  his  second 
daughter,  soon  arose  near  the  seminary,  forming  a  complete  whole, 
over  which  Kriisi's  kind  feeling  and  paternal  supervision  exercised  a 
beneficial  influence.  Hardly  ever  did  three  institutions  proceed  in 
happier  unity.  Many  pleasant  reminiscences  of  this  period  present 
themselves ;  but  the  space  is  wanting  for  them.  Kriisi's  skill  as 
educator  and  teacher  were  the  same  here  as  elsewhere.  He  used  the 
same  method,  showed  the  same  mild  disposition,  love  of  nature  and 
enthusiasm  for  every  thing  beautiful  and  good.  He  occupied  a  posi- 
tion even  higher  in  respect  of  insight  and  experience,  in  the  comple- 
tion of  his  system  of  education,  as  adapted  to  nature ;  and  a  more 
honorable  one  by  reason  of  his  old  age  and  the  gray  hairs  which 
began  to  ornament  his  temples.  But  despite  of  his  age,  whose  weak 
nesses  his  always  vigorous  health  permitted  him  to  feel  but  little,  he 
•ever  preserved  the  same  freshness  of  spirit.  His  method  of  instruction 
-did  not  grow  effete,  as  is  often  the  case  with  old  teachers.  He  was 
always  seeking  to  approach  his  subject  from  a  new  side  ;  and  felt  the 
-same  animation  as  of  old,  at  finding  any  new  fruits  from  his  method 


348  HERMANN    KKUB1. 

or  his  labors.  His  kind  and  friendly  manners  won  all  his  pupils,, 
whether  boys  and  girls,  or  older  youth.  Nor  is  it  strange  that  all  tin* 
other  members  of  the  establishment  also  looked  upon  him  as  a  father. 
An  expression  of  their  love  and  respect  appeared  on  the  occasion  <  f  h's 
birthday,  which  they  made  a  day  of  festival,  with  a  simple  ceremonial 
speeches  and  songs.  Upon  such  occasions  he  was  wont  to  recall  the 
time  of  his  abode  with  Pestalozzi ;  and  his  affectionate  heart  always 
impelled  him  to  speak  in  beautifully  grateful  language  of  his  never- 
to-be-forgotten  father  and  friend,  the  originator  of  his  own  useful 
labors,  and  all  his  happiness.  The  crowning  event  of  his  happiness 
was  the  presentation  on  his  sixty-ninth  birthday,  in  1843,  the  fiftieth 
year  of  his  labors  as  a  teacher,  by  all  the  teachers  who  had  been 
instructed  by  him,  of  a  beautiful  silver  pitcher,  as  an  expression  of 
their  gratitude.  He  looked  hopefully  upon  so  large  a  number  of  hi> 
pupils,  and  gave  them  his  paternal  blessing.  Two  of  his  birthday 
addresses  have  appeared  in  print. 

Until  April  of  that  yar,  Kriisi  continued  to  teach  in  the  seminary 
and  connected  schools.  After  the  completion  of  his  fifth  course,  he 
had  hoped  to  be  able  to  completely  work  out  his  system  of  instruction 
and  moro  fully  to  write  his  biography;  but  this  was  not  to  be  per- 
mitted him.  He  was  able  at  leisure  times  to  write  and  publish  much 
matter ;  the  last  of  these  was  a  collection  of  his  poems.  These  are 
valuable,  not  as  artistic  productions,  but  as  true  pictures  of  his  pure 
and  vivid  feeling  for  every  thing  good  and  beautiful.  The  fact  that  bo- 
wrote  many  of  his  songs  to  the  airs  of  his  friend,  pastor  Weishaiipt, 
shows  that  he  valued  high-toned  musical  instruction.  This  love  of 
singing  remained  with  him  to  the  end  of  his  life;  and  his  face  always 
givw  animated  if  he  saw  men,  youth  and  maidens,  or  young  children, 
enjoying  either  alone  or  in  pleasant  companionship,  that  elevating 
pleasure. 

At  the  annual  parish  festival  of  1844,  the  old  man  now  seventy, 
w;^  present  :n  Trogen,  entering  heartily  into  the  exercises  of  the 
occasion,  and  particularly,  the  powerful  chotal,  "  Alles  Leben  stromt 
aus  Dir"  which  was  sung  by  a  thousand  men's  voices,  and  an  elo- 
quent discourse  on  common  education,  by  Landarman  Nagel.  The 
fatigue,  excitement,  and  exposure  to  the  weather,  which  was  damp 
and  cold,  were  too  much  for  his  strength,  and  in  the  evening  he  was 
ill,  and  on  the  following  day  he  was  visited  by  a  paralytic  attack, 
from  which  he  never  recovered,  but  closed  his  earthly  career  on  the 
25th  of  July,  1844.  His  funeral  was  attended  by  a  multitude  of 
mourners  from  far  and  near,  and  his  body  was  borne  to  its  last  resting; 
place  in  the  churchyard  of  Un\<.  Ky  the  pupils  of  the  seminary. 


THE  GENERAL  MEANS  OF  EDUCATION. 

WITH    AN    ACCOUNT    OF    A    NEW    INSTITUTION    FOR    BOYS. 


BY    HERMANN 


THE  following  "  Coup  cTceir  of  the  General  Means  of  Education, 
the  Plan  of  the  new  Institution  which  Krusi  afterward  organ- 
ized and  managed,  was  published  at  Yverdun,  in  1818,  and  presents 
the  ideas  and  methods  of  Pestalozzi,  as  held  by  one  of  his  early 
assistants  and  avowed  disciples. 

The  principal  means  for  the  education  of  man  are  three,  viz.,  1.  Domestic 
Life.  2.  Intellectual  Kducation,  or  the  Culture  of  the  Mind.  3.  Religious 
Training. 

I.     DOMESTIC    LIFE. 

The  object  of  domestic  life  is  the  preservation  of  the  body  and  the  development 
of  its  powers.  It  may  therefore  be  considered  the  basis  of  physical  life. 

The  body  is  a  s.-e.l.  enveloping  the  germ  of  intellectual,  moral  and  religious  ac- 
tivity. Domestic  life  is  the  fertile  soil  in  which  this  seed  is  deposited,  and  in 
which  this  germ  is  to  expand  and  prosper. 

There  are  three  principal  relations  of  domestic  life  ;  of  parents  to  children,  of 
children  to  parents,  an  1  of  children  to  each  other. 

In  domestic  life,  love  is  the  center  of  all  the  sentiments  and  actions.  It  is  inan- 
il'e>te  i  in  tli-'  parents  by  uiircmittini;  care  and  unbounded  self-sacrifice ;  in  the 
children,  in  return,  by  perfect  confidence  and  obedience  ;  and  among  brothers  and 
by  endeavors  to  promote  each  other's  happiness.  Every  event,  almost 
every  moment,  of  domestic  life,  stimulates  the  entire  bring,  body,  mind  and  soul, 
into  activity,  Ueyond  the  domestic  circle,  and  the  further  \\v  move  from  it,  the 
more  remarkable  do.-s  tin-  particular  tendency  and  the  isolated  action  of  each 
faculty  become.  . 

A  seminary  should  exemplify  domestic  life  in  all  its  purity.  The  t.-aeher* 
should  regard  the  pupils  as  their  children  ;  the  children  should  regard  the  teach- 
ers as  parents,  and  i  aeh  other  as  brothers  and  sisters.  The  purest  love  should 
inspire  all  these  relations;  and  the  result  should  be  cares,  sacrifices,  confidence, 
obedience,  and  reciprocal  endeavors  to  aid  in  attaining  the  objects  desired. 

Such  a  domestic  life  prepares  the  child  for  mental  improvement  and  religious 
-development  and  habits.  Without  it,  religion  will  gain  no  access  to  the 
and  intellectual  cultivation  will  only  be  a  means  for  satisfying  the  selfish  demands 
•of  the  animal  nature.  I  Jut  with  it,  the  child  is  prepared  for  the  successful  exer- 
cise of  the  same  good  qualities  and  the  maintenance  of  the  like  relations  in  a  wider 
sphere  as  a  man,  a  citizen,  and  a  Christian. 

II.    INTELLECTUAL    EDUCATION. 

The  aim  of  this  should  be,  on  one  hand,  to  develop  the  faculties,  and  on  the 
other  to  develop  executive  power.  The  faculties  must  all  be  developed  together ; 
an  end  only  to  be  attained  by  the  exercises  of  the  active  and  productive  faculties. 
In  order  to  real  development,  the  mind  must  act  of  itself;  and  moreover,  the 
active  and  productive  faculties  can  not  be  exercised  without  at  the  same  time  ex- 
ercising those  which  are  passive  and  receptive,  (namely,  those  of  comprehension 
and  retention,)  and  preparing  them  for  future  service  with  increased  advantage. 

That  alone  can  be  considered  the  elementary  means  of  developing  the  mental 


350  KRlJSI,  VIEWS  AND  PLAN  OF  EDUCATION. 

faculties,  which  is  essentially  the  product  of  the  human  mind:  \\hirh  tin-  mind  of 
each  individual  can,  and  does  in  fact,  to  a  certain  degree  produce,  independent  of 
all  instruction  ;  that  which  spontaneously  exhibits  itself  in  each  department,  and 
is,  as  it  were  the  germ  of  attainment  in  it.  These  essential  productions  of  UK.- 
human  mind  are  three;  number, form,  and  language. 

The  ultimate  element  of  number  is  unity  ;  of  form,  a  line;  of  language,  ideas, 
which  are  interior,  and  sound,  which  is  exterior.  Each  of  these  three  m<  ans 
may  be  employed  in  two  different  directions ;  to  develop,  on  one  hand,  the  power 
of  discerning  truth,  and  on  the  other,  that  of  disc.Tmn^  beauty. 

The  faculties  of  the  individual  can  not  be  developed  without  his  acquiring,  at 
the  same  time,  a  certain  amount  of  knowledge,  and  a  certain  bodily  skill  in  the 
execution  of  what  the  mind  has  conceived  ;  and  it  is  an  important  truth  that  an 
enlightened  mind  will  succeed  much  better  than  an  unenlightened  one  in  the  ac- 
quirement of  knowledge  as  well  as  of  every  kind  of  executive  ability. 

Exercises  intended  to  develop  the  faculties,  like  those  intended  to  communicate 
knowledge,  should  succeed  one  another  in  a  logical  (natural  or  necessary)  order;. 
BO  that  each  shall  contain  the  germ  of  that  which  is  to  follow,  should  lead  to  it, 
and  prepare  for  it. 

The  development  of  the  principal  faculties,  and  the  acquirement  of  a  certain 
amount  of  information,  are  necessary  to  qualify  every  individual  for  his  duties  as 
a  man,  a  citizen,  and  a  Christian.  This  degree  of  development,  and  this  amount 
of  information,  constitute  the  province  of  elementary  education,  properly  so  called, 
which  would  be  the  same  for  all.  But  beyond  these  limits,  the  character  and  ex- 
tent of  studies  should  vary,  on  one  hand,  according  to  the  indications  of  nature,, 
which  destines  individuals  by  different  capacities  for  different  callings ;  and  on  the 
other  hand,  according  to  his  situation  in  life. 

In  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  an  elementary  path  should  be  followed,  intro- 
ductory and  preparatory  to  a  scientific  method  of  study.  This  is  suited  t<>  ih< 
child,  because  it  leads  from  a  series  of  particular  facts,  it  leads  upward  to  the  dis- 
covery of  general  truths.  The  scientific  method  is  suitable  only  to  mature  and 
enlarged  minds,  proceeding  from  general  principles,  displaying  them  in  their 
whole  extent,  and  thus  arriving  at  particular  truths. 

We  shall  now  point  out  the  proper  means  of  development,  and  the  principal  ob- 
jects to  be  attained  by  th- in  ;  afterward  considering  the  different  ages  of  child- 
hood, and  the  successive  steps  in  development  and  order  of  studies. 

First  means  of  development.     Number  * 

SECTION  1.     Exercises  in  number,  with  reference  to  truth. 

A.  Mental  calculation  ;  to  give  intuitive  knowledge  of  numb.Ts.  and  their  rela- 
tions :  including 

a.  exercises  on  units. 

b.  "          simple  fractions. 

c.  u          compound  fractions  or  complex  fractions. 

In  -  ach  of  these  three  series  there  are  different  degrees,  namely, 

First,  (Pre paratory,)  Numeration,  or  learning  to  count. 

Second,  Composition  of  Numbers;  e.  g.,  all  numbers  are  composed  of  units 
All  even  numbers  are  composed  of  twos;  all  triple  ones  of  thnts.  vY<-.  A]M>, 
decomposition  of  numbers,  e.  g. ;  all  numbers  may  be  decomposed  into  units  ;  all 
even  numbers  into  twos;  all  triple  ones  into  threes,  &e.  Also,  transformations 
of  numbers.  That  is,  the  mode  of  composing  new  numbers  from  the  threes,, 
twos  or  units,  coming  from  the  decomposition  of  an  old  one. 

Third,  Determinations  of  simple  relations  and  proportions. 

B.  Calculations  by  symbols.     (Figures.  1« -tiers,  <fcc.)     The  object  of  this  is  to- 
give  an  intuitive  knowledge  of  rules,  under  which  all  operations  on  numbers  may 
be  performed,  and  also  the  ability  to  express  numbers  and  operations  oy  signs. 
Including, 

a.  A  knowledge  of  the  decimal  numerical  system. 

*We  state  the  means  of  development  in  the  following  order;  number,  form,  language; 
because  the  development  of  number  is  simplest  and  has  fewest  applications,  those  of  form, 
are  more  varied,  and  language  includes  number,  form,  and  all  human  knowledge  When, 
we  consider  the  child  at  different  ages,  we  shall,  on  the  contrary,  begin  with  language,  be- 
cause by  that,  begins  the  development  of  his  understanding. 


KR178I,  VIEWS  AND  PLAN  OF  EDUCATION  351 

b.  The  four  simple  rules,  addition,  subtraction,  multiplication  and  division. 

c.  The  rule  of  three,  throughout. 

d.  Evolution  and  involution. 

e.  Algebra. 

C.  Applications  both  ol'  mental  and  written  calculation,  to  the  discovery  of  rela- 
tions between  numbers  and  the  attainment  of  skill  in  the  common  calculations. 
Tins  application  is  to  four  principal  objects,  viz., 

a.  Extent,  according  to  natural  and  arbitrary  measures. 

b.  Time  and  duration. 


c. 

d.  Conventional  values. 
SEC.  2.     Exercises  on  number,  with  reference  to  beauty,  viz.,  Measure  in  mu- 
sic ;  the  other  musical  element  being  sound. 

Second  means  of  development.     Form. 
SKC.  1.     Exercises  in  form,  with  reference  to  truth.  (Geometry.) 

A.  Construction  of  figures  from  given  conditions. 
o.   With  lines  determined  by  points. 

b.  With  planes  determined  by  lines  and  points. 

B.  Valuation  of  lines  and  surfaces,  either   by  absolute  measures,  that    is,   by 
comparison  of  dimensions,  or  by  arbitrary  standards. 

a.  The  measure  of  one  dimension  (length,)  represented  by  a  line. 
6.  The  measure  of  two  dimensions  (length  and  breadth,)  represented  by  sur- 
face.    (Planimetry.) 

c.  The  measure  of  three  dimensions  (length,  breadth  and  thickness,)  repre- 
sented by  solids.     (Stereometry.)     The  higher  development,  of  the  same  exercises 
leads  to  trigonometry  and  conic  sections. 

Together  with  the  application  of  these  exercises  to  surveying,  drafting,  &c. 
SEC.  2.     Exercises  in  form,  with  reference  to  beauty.     (Drawing.) 

A.  Linear  drawing,  to  form  the  eye  and   the  hand,  and  to  practice  invention, 
under  rules  and  in  forms  agreeable  to  the  sight. 

B.  Perspective. 

a.  As  a  result  of  observation. 

6.  As  the  result  of  geometrical  and  optical  laws. 

C.  Knowledge  and  imitation  of  light  and  shade. 

D.  Progressive  exercises  in  drawing  from  nature. 

Third  means  of  development.     Language. 

SEC.  1.  The  interior  view  of  language,  «'.  e.,  language  considered  chiefly  with 
reference  to  the  sense  of  the  words.  (Exercises  to  teach  children  to  make  obser- 
vations and  to  express  them  with  ease  and  correctness.) 

A.  Maternal  and  domestic  language  includes  what  relates  to  infancy  ;  what  a 
child  can  comprehend. 

a.  Exercises  in  naming  objects.     Review  whatever  the  child   has  learned   in 
actual  life,  and  ascertain  if  he  knows  and  can  name  the  objects  of  which  he  must 
•peak. 

b.  Exercises  on  the  qualities  of  objects.     A  quality  is  explained   to  the  child, 
ami  he  is  to  search  for  objects  possessing  it.     Both  here  and  in  every  subsequent 
exercise,  the  child  must  be  required   to  give  each  example  in  a  complete,  correct 
and  strictly  true  proposition.     Each  example  should  contain  something  of  positive 
interest. 

c.  Exercises  on  actions  and  their  relations.     An  action  is  explained  to  the  child, 
and  he  is  to  inquire  and  discover  who  does  it,  what  is  its  object  ;  its  when,  where, 
wherewith,  how,  why.     In  this  practice  of  observing  every  action  with  reference 
to  the  agent,  object,  time,  place,  manner,  principles  and  intention,  we  not  only 
obtain  what  this  exercise  is  primarily  intended  to  promote,  the  development  of  the 
faculty  of  language,  and  thereby  of  general  intelligence  —  but  also  the  develop- 
ment in  the  child  of  a  disposition  to  explain  to  himself  all  he  does,  and  all  others 
do  ;  which  is  likely  to  have  the  happiest  effect  upon  his  judgment  and  conduct. 

B.  Social  language  ;  a  development  of  maternal  language. 

a.  Exercises  on  families  of  words.  A  radical  word  is  chosen,  and  all  its  deri- 
vatives sought  for  with  the  child.  lie  is  made  to  distinguish  with  care  the  differ- 


352  KRUSl,  VIEWS  AND  PLAN  OF  EDUCATION. 

ent  meanings,  proper  or  figurative,  of  each  derivative,  with  a  reference  to  the 
meaning  of  the  radical  word.  He  must  give  each  word,  and  each  meaning  of  it. 
in  a  phrase  complying  with  these  conditions,  and  those  above  laid  down  tor 
propositions. 

b.  Exercises  on  synonyms. 

c.  Exercises  in  definitions. 

SEC.  2.  The  exterior  of  language ;  i.  c.,  language  with  reference  to  the  form 
of  speech. 

A.  Exterior  of  language,  with  reference  to  truth. 
First.  Verbal  language. 

a.  Composition  of  words. 

1.  With  given  sounds. 

2.  With  given  syllables.     A  final  syllable,  or  an  initial  and  final   syllable,  is 
given  the  child,  and  he  is  to  find  words  formed   with  them;  thus  acquiring  a 
knowledge  of  the  roots  of  words. 

3.  With  simple  words.     This  and   the  last  exercise  are  preparatory  to  exer- 
cises on  the  families  of  words. 

b.  Composition  of  phrases. 

1.  Knowledge  of  the  constituent  parts  of  phrases,  (parts  of  speech.) 

2.  Inflection  of  those  parts  of  speech  susceptible  of  it. 

3.  Construction  of  phrases  with  given  parts  of  speech. 

c.  Composition  of  periods. 

1.  Knowledge  of  the  members  of  a  period. 

2.  Combination  of  them. 

d.  Rules  for  the  construction  of  language. 
Second.  Written  language. 

Besides  the  discourse  of  the  living  voice,  which  is  the  original  and  natural 
mode  of  representing  our  ideas,  and  which  discovers  them  to  the  ear,  there  is  an 
artificial  method  which  displays  them  to  the  eye  by  means  of  signs  called  letters. 

The  desire  of  enjoying  the  ideas  of  others  thus  communicated,  and  of  being 
able,  in  like  manner,  to  communicate  our  own,  leads  to  the  study  of  written  lan- 
guage, including  the  following  exercises  : 

a.  Combination  of  the  pronunciation  of  sounds  with  the  knowledge  of  the 
signs  by  which  they  are  indicated  to  the  eye.  (Reading.) 

6.  Tracing  these  signs.    (Writing.) 

c.  Expression  of  sounds  by  them.    (Orthography.) 

d.  Knowledge  and  use  of  signs  which  indicate  the  relations  of  the  members  of 
the  phrase  or  period  composed.     (Punctuation.) 

B.  The  exterior  of  language  with  reference  to  beauty.     (Modulation,  accent, 
prosody,  versification.) 

C.  Sound,  the  external  element  of  language,  developed  in  an  independent  man- 
ner with  reference  to  beauty ;  constituting  one  of  the  elements  of  music. 

REMARKS.  The  study  of  the  construction  of  a  language  constitutes  grammar  ; 
whose  laws  being  correspondent  to  the  laws  of  thought,  grammar  leads  directly 
to  logic,  in  which  are  united  the  studies  of  the  interior  and  exterior  of  language. 

By  exercises  in  logic,  and  in  the  formation  of  language,  the  pupil  is  prepared 
to  compose  on  given  subjects,  and  to  study  the  rules  of  composition,  (Rhetoric.) 

The  same  exercises  will  nourish  and  develop  the  talent  for  poetry  or  eloquence, 
where  it  has  been  given  by  nature. 

Language,  as  a  production  of  the  human  mind,  and  the  expression  of  physical, 
intellectual,  and  moral  life,  should  be  universally  the  same  in  principle,  since  hu- 
man nature  is  everywhere  essentially  the  same.  But  as  the  development  of  hu 
man  faculties,  the  circumstances  of  life,  social  and  domestic  relations,  variously 
differ,  this  difference  must  have  caused  corresponding  differences  in  this  produc- 
tion of  the  mind  ;  that  is,  different  languages.  Men  associated  in  a  social  body 
have  formed  for  themselves  a  certain  tongue,  which  has  become  their  national 
language.  In  order  to  intercourse  between  different  nations,  they  must  learn 
each  other's  language ;  hence  the  study  of  foreign  tongues.  This  study  enables 
us  in  a  certain  sense  to  hold  intellectual  and  moral  intercourse  even  with  nations 
no  longer  existing ;  i.  e.,  by  the  study  of  the  dead  languages. 

Those  whose  mother  tongue  is  derivative,  must,  in  order  to  understand  it  per- 
fectly, study  the  primitive  language  from  which  it  originated. 


KRUSI,  VIEWS  AND  PLAN  OF  EDUCATION.  853 

SBC.  3.     Application  of  language  to  the  acquirement  of  knowledge. 
Man  is  the  center  of  all  knowledge. 

A.  Physical  man.     Knowledge  of  the  body  5  not  anatomical,  but  of  the  parts 
of  the  animated  body. 

First  degree.  Knowledge  of  the  parts  of  the  body. 

a.  Names  of  the  parts. 

b.  Number  of  parts  of  each  kind. 

c.  Their  situation  and  connection. 

d.  Properties  of  each. 

e.  Functions  of  each. 

/.  The  proper  care  of  each. 

Second  degree.  Knowledge  of  the  senses. 

a.  Distinctions  and  names  of  the  senses. 

b.  Their  organs. 

c.  Functions  of  these  organs. 

d.  Objects  of  these  functions. 

e.  Means  of  the  activity  of  each  organ. 

/.  Consequences  of  the  action  of  the  senses,  sensations,  disposition,  inclinations. 

REMARKS.  The  child  acquainted  with  the  physical  man,  knows  the  highest 
link  of  external  nature ;  the  most  perfect  of  organized  beings. 

Man  belongs  to  the  animal  kingdom  by  his  body  and  by  his  animal  affections. 
He  employs  animals  for  different  purposes.  The  knowledge  of  physical  man  con- 
ducts therefore  to  that  of  the  animal  kingdom. 

Plants  are  also  organized  beings,  but  of  an  inferior  organization. 

Man  obtains  from  plants  the  greater  part  of  his  food,  his  clothing  and  his  reme- 
dies. They  feed  the  animals  he  employs.  They  adorn  his  abode.  Their  fate  in 
some  respect  resembles  his,  like  him  they  grow,  they  expand,  they  produce,  de- 
cline and  die.  The  knowledge  of  the  physical  man  conducts  therefore  to  that  of 
the  vegetable  kingdom. 

The  mineral  kingdom  forms  the  ground  of  our  abode  and  of  that  of  all  orgac 
ized  bodies,  and  all  return  to  it  when  they  die.     It  supplies  us  with  salt,  manj 
remedies,  and  the  greater  part  of  materials  for  our  habitations.     The  knowledge 
of  the  physical  man  conducts  then  to  that  of  the  mineral  kingdom. 

Fire,  air,  water  and  earth  compose  all  terrestrial  bodies,  wherefore  to  the  ob- 
server, without  instruments,  they  appear  as  elements.  The  preservation  and  thr 
destruction  of  all  bodies  depend  upon  them.  The  constant  property  of  fire  is  to 
consume,  of  air  to  volatilize,  of  water  to  liquify,  of  earth  to  mineralize.  It  is  by 
their  equilibrium  that  bodies  are  preserved  ;  so  soon  as  one  of  the  four  overpow 
ers  the  rest,  the  body  subject  to  its  preponderating  action  must  perish.  Thus  the 
study  of  the  three  kingdoms  of  nature  leads  to  that  of  substances  commonly 
called  elements  and  this  is  a  preparation  and  an  introduction  to  the  study  of  physic 
and  chemistry.  • 

Physical  man,  animals,  minerals,  and  elements  belong  to  the  terrestrial  globe, 
the  knowledge  of  which  constitutes  geography.  The  study  of  the  earth,  regarded 
as  a  planet,  leads  to  astronomy. 

Man  as  a  physical  being,  stands  in  relation  with  beings  above  him,  on  a  level 
with  him  and  beneath  him.  Above  him  are  the  elements  considered  at  large  and 
the  laws  of  physical  nature.  On  his  level  are  his  fellow  creatures,  and  beneath 
him  the  individuals  of  the  three  kingdoms  of  nature,  and  the  elements  taken  in 
detail. 

B.  Intellectual  man. 

a.  Inferior  faculties  which  animals  possess  in  common  with  man.     Faculties 
of  perception  and  observation. 

b.  Intermediate    faculties.      The    faculties    of    comparison,   judgment,   and 
inference. 

c.  Superior  faculties.     The  faculty  of  seeing  abstractly,  the  essence  of  each 
object,  and  the  invariable  laws  of  its  nature.     The  faculty  of  believing  divine  reve- 
lation, which  unites  the  most  elevated  powers  of  the  soul  and  heart. 

Faculties  formed  in  each  of  the  preceding  degrees,  are  : — 
The  faculty  of  devoting   the  thoughts  to  one  object,  excluding  every  other 
••'attention.) 

The  faculty  of  creating  any  image  :  (imagination.) 


354  KRUSI.  VIEWS  AND  PLAN  OF  ED 

The  faculty  of  receiving  and  preserving  every  effort  of  the  understanding 
(memory.) 

The  faculty  of  discovering  beauty  :  (taste.) 

The  study  of  the  intellectual  faculties  leads  to  the  study  of  intellectual  pro- 
ductions. 

a.  For  satisfying  intellectual  wants,  that  is  to  say,  the  essential  means  for  the 
expansion  of  the  mind  :  (Language,  number,  form.)     These  three  productions 
of  the  human  mind  have  been  already  represented  as  essential  means  for  intel- 
lectual cultivation. 

b.  For  satisfying  corporal  wants  or  to  aid  the  bodily  organs  to  serve  the  mind. 
General   knowledge  of  arts  and   trades,  of  the  materials  they  employ,  of  their 
mode  of  action  :  (technology.) 

C.  Moral  man. 

The  germ  of  morality  is  in  the  sentiments  of  love,  confidence,  gratitude.  Fruit 
of  these  sentiments :  (obedience.) 

Faculties  whose  action  springs  from  intelligence  and  sentiment :  will,  liberty. 
The  governing  and  representative  faculty  of  the  will,  is  with  the  child  the  will  of 
his  parents ;  among  men  grown,  the  will  of  God:  (conscience.) 

Man  as  a  moral,  intellectual  and  physical  being  is  in  affinity  with  his  superiors,  hi& 
equals,  and  his  inferiors.  Our  relation  with  superior  beings  commences  at  our  birth  : 
those  then  above  us  are  our  father  and  mother.  Those  with  whom  we  begin  to 
be  in  connection  when  we  enter  into  civil  society  are  persons  in  authority.  The 
highest  points  to  which  we  can  ascend  in  our  relation  to  beings  above  us  is  aa 
children  of  God.  The  fundamental  relation  of  all  those  with  beings  on  a  level 
with  us,  is  that  of  brothers  and  sisters  in  the  interior  of  our  family.  These  rela- 
tions exist  in  full  extent,  and  perfection,  when  we  regard  all  mankind  as  brethren, 
and  as  forming  with  us  a  single  family.  The  fundamental  relations  of  all  those 
with  beings  beneath  us  are  those  of  a  father  and  mother  toward  their  children. 
These  relations  exist  in  all  their  perfection  and  true  dignity  when  we  are  the  rep- 
resentatives of  the  'Deity,  with  those  committed  to  our  care.  The  knowledge 
of  the  relationships  of  which  we  have  just  spoken,  existing  in  domestic  life,  in 
civil  society,  and  in  religion,  the  same  conducts  to  that  of  our  rights  and  duties  as 
men,  as  citizens  and  as  Christians. 

By  exercising  a  child  in  the  study  of  himself  and  of  the  men  around  him,  his 
faculties,  the  productions  of  his  intellectual  activity,  the  principles  and  the  conse- 
quences of  his  actions,  his  relative  situation  to  all  beyond  himself,  the  rights  and 
duties  resulting  from  this  situation,  he  is  prepared  to  study  the  same  objects  in  a 
wider  sphere,  namely,  in  the  human  race,  where  appears  in  full,  all  that  the  in- 
dividual offers  in  miniature ;  and  this  study  is  the  main  object  of  history.  The 
study  of  history  includes  three  successive  degrees. 

1st  DEGREE.  From  the  time  a  child  begins  to  study  human  nature  and  as  a 
confirmation  of  the  truths  this  study  will  discover  to  him,  he  will  be  shown  par- 
ticular and  well  chosen  facts,  taken  from  the  history  of  individuals  or  nations,  facts, 
the  circumstances  of  which  compose  a  whole,  and  form  in  his  imagination,  as  it 
were,  a  picture  after  nature.  When  the  child  shall  have  arrived  at  a  certain  de- 
gree of  development,  he  will  be  made  to  bring  home  all  these  isolated  events  to 
the  men,  or  to  the  people,  as  well  as  to  the  time  and  place,  to  which  they  belong. 
In  this  degree  the  study  of  history  serves  principally  to  feed  the  imagination,  and 
the  memory. 

2d  DEGREE.  When  the  young  man  shall  be  more  advanced  in  the  knowledge 
of  human  nature,  he  may  ascend  to  the  origin  of  the  actual  state  of  the  nations 
that  surround  him,  beginning  with  the  people  of  his  own  country.  We  may 
conduct  him  to  the  epoch  which  has  been  the  germ  of  this  actual  state,  and  seek 
with  him  the  successive  degrees  by  which  the  nation  has  progressed,  as  well  as 
the  principles  and  consequences  of  each  particular  event.  He  will  thus  learn  to 
know  the  current  order  of  history,  of  the  principal  nations  in  existence.  He  will 
then  pass  on  to  the  history  of  those  now  no  more.  In  this  degree,  the  study  of 
history  serves  principally  as  food  to  the  judgment,  inasmuch  as  it  connects  actions, 
causes,  and  their  consequences. 

3d  DEGREE.  Only  when  the  young  man  shall  have  become  more  matured, 
acquired  a  deep  knowledge  of  human  nature,  and  the  consequences  of  the  de- 
velopment of  the  individual,  is  it,  that  he  can  with  advantage  collect  the  particular 


KRUSI,  VIEWS  AND  PLAN  OF  EDUCATION  355 

iaots.  atid  the  series  of  events  which  he  has  learned  to  know,  in  order  to  form  one 
entire  whole,  and  to  study  in  mass,  the  consequences  of  the  development  of  the 
human  species  and  of  each  historical  personage,  which  is  the  essential  end  of  his- 
tory, and  the  highest  point  to  which  it  can  lead.     In  this  degree  the  study  of  his 
tory  serves  as  food  to  the  mind  in  its  most  noble  state  of  action. 

Auxiliary  means  for  the  development  of  the  faculties  and  the  acquisition  of 
knowledge.  The  study  of  what  men  have  produced,  as  true,  beautiful  and  good. 

1st.  Progressive  lessons  according  to  the  degree  of  development  the  child  has 
attained  and  the  branches  of  study  to  which  he  applies. 

2d.  Exercises  for  the  memory.  To  learn  by  heart  beautiful  pieces  of  poetry r 
eloquence  or  music. 

3d.  Exercise  of  judgment  and  of  taste:  an  examination  of  the  productions  of 
art,  to  trace  therein  the  principles  of  truth  and  beauty. 

4th.  Imitation  and  reproduction :  declamation  of  pieces  of  eloquence,  or  of 
poetry  ;  execution  of  musical  composition  ;  copying  drawings  and  paintings. 

General  means  for  rendering  the  body  of  man  able  to  serve  his  soul  and  to  ex- 
ecute its  conceptions.  (Gymnastics.) 

In  domestic  life  the  child's  body  is  the  object  of  most  tender  care.  As  the 
child  expands,  he  constantly  exercises  the  organs  of  his  senses  and  of  all  his  mem- 
bers. Care  on  the  part  of  the  parents  and  exercises  on  that  of  the  child  are  the 
double  means  of  his  preservation  and  his  first  development.  Bodily  exercise  for  a 
child  comes  in  the  form  of  plays  destined  to  amuse  and  divert  him.  At  first  they 
vary  at  almost  every  instant.  Gradually  they  become  more  steady,  and  more  serious. 

The  art  of  education  extends  and  perfects  what  life  itself  begins  and  prepares. 
Thus  what  in  its  birth  was  but  play  and  amusement  becomes  the  object  of  a  com- 
plete development,  of  which  the  very  organization  of  our  body  points  out  the  aim 
and  the  laws. 

Gymnastics  present  three  different  degrees. 

a.  Children's  plays ;  free  exercises  produced  by  unconscious  strength  and  ac- 
tivity, and  determined  by  the  impulse  of  the  mind  and  the  accidental  circum- 
stances of  life. 

b.  Progressive  and  regulated  exercises  of  the  limbs.     Gymnastics  properly  so 
called. 

c.  Exercises  preparatory  to  occupations  in  active  life,  and  to  the  employment 
the  pupil  is  to  embrace  :  Gymnastics  of  Industry. 

By  the  gymnastic  exercises,  directed  toward  the  essential  object  of  developing 
the  physical  faculties  in  harmony  with  the  intellectual  and  moral,  and  by  care  to 
preserve  the  strength  and  purity  of  the  organs,  the  body  may  attain  its  true  des- 
tination, namely  to  serve  the  mind  by  executing  its  conceptions. 

Different  ages  of  pupils. 

These  ages  are  fixed  from  a  general  view  of  children.  In  different  individuals 
nature  accelerates  or  retards  the  progress  of  development,  so  that  some  enter  ear- 
lier, some  later  into  each  period.  There  are  also  individuals  who  develop  more 
rapidly  in  some  directions  than  in  others.  We  must  therefore  take  care  that  the 
backward  faculties  are  not  neglected,  which  would  destroy  in  the  individual, 
the  harmony  of  human  nature. 

A.  First  age  ;  until  five  years  old. 

During  this  first  age,  the  child  is  exclusively  the  object  of  maternal  and  pa- 
ternal care.  He  only  receives  instruction  occasionally ;  each  moment,  each  cir- 
cumstance may  furnish  a  means  to  fix  his  attention  upon  the  objects  which  sur- 
round him,  and  to  teach  him  to  observe  them,  to  express  his  observations  and  to 
act  upon  them  as  far  as  his  age  will  allow.  The  development  which  the  child 
may  acquire  in  this  first  period  is  of  the  greatest  future  importance.  Every  . 
teacher  will  find  a  wide  difference  between  the  child  whose  parents  have  trained 
him  with  tenderness  and  judgment  and  him  who  has  been  in  the  first  stage  aban- 
doned to  himself,  or  what  is  worse,  ill-directed  or  ill-associated 

B.  Second  age ;  from  five  to  ten  years. 

It  is  at  this  period  only  that  a  regular  course  of  instruction  should  begin.  At 
first  this  should  be  but  a  recapitulation  of  all  the  child  has  learned  by  the  habits 
of  life,  with  the  simple  difference  that  the  objects  of  the  exercises  should  no  longer 
be  determined  by  accident,  but  fixed  in  one  plan,  adapted  to  the  intellectual  wants 


KRUSI,  VIEWS  AND  PLAN  OF  EDUCATION. 

of  the  child.  Domestic  life  thus  furnishes,  during  the  first  period,  the  germ* 
which  a  course  of  instruction  ought  to  develop,  and  in  a  great  measure  decides  ita 
«uccess. 

The  following  exercises  properly  belong  to  this  age. 

1.  Maternal  and  domestic  language. 

2.  Exterior  of  language  :  composition  of  words,  reading,  writing,  spelling. 
We  must  always  take  care  that   the  knowledge  of  the  interior  of  language 

keeps  a  little  before  the  exterior. 

3.  Elementary  exercises  in  singing. 

4.  Mental  arithmetic  with  units. 

5.  Construction  of  figures  according  to  given  conditions,  and  linear  drawing. 

6.  Application  of  language  and  the  acquisition  of  knowledge ;  knowledge  of 
the  human  body. 

There  are  other  exercises  which  may  be  begun  at  this  period,  but  which  do  not 
properly  belong  to  it ;  for  which  reason  we  put  off  the  mention  of  them  to  the 
following  period. 

C.  Third  age  •  from  ten  to  fifteen. 

1.  Interior  of  language :  social  language. 

2.  Exterior  of  language :  composition  of  phrases  and  of  periods,  orthography, 
punctuation. 

3.  Continuation  of  singing  exercises. 

4.  Mental  arithmetic  with  simple  and  with  compound  fractions. 
Written  arithmetic  to  the  rule  of  three,  in  its  full  extent,  inclusively. 

5.  Geometry  properly  so  called  :  relation  of  forms,  as  far  as,  and  including 
stereometry. 

Drawing  :  perspective,  shades,  drawing  from  nature. 

6.  Application  of  language  to  the  acquisition  of  knowledge. 

a  Continuation  of  the  study  of  the  physical  man :  senses,  sensations,  inclina- 
tions, passions. 

b.  Intellectual  man. 

c.  Moral  man. 

d.  Knowledge  of  such  natural  objects  in  the  three  kingdoms  as  by  a  comp.ete 
system  of  positive  features,  may  serve  as  a  representative  of  a  series  of  other  ob- 
jects of  like  character. 

e.  Knowledge  of  the  elements  as  far  as  it  can  be  acquired  by  observation,  with- 
out the  aid  of  physical  and  chemical  apparatus. 

f.  Geography. 

f.  Technology  and  notices  of  the  principal  inventions. 
.  History,  1st  degree. 

7.  Application  of  arithmetic  to  bulk :  to  duration,  to  weight,  and  to  the  con- 
ventional value  of  objects. 

D.  Fourth  age ;  from  fifteen  to  eighteen  or  twenty. 

Language.  Continuation  of  language.  Rules  for  the  construction  of  lan- 
guage. Logic.  N 

Compositions  on  given  subjects.  Rhetoric.  Continuation  of  singing  exer- 
cises. Arithmetic,  mental  and  written  ;  evolution  of  powers ;  extraction  of  roots. 
Algebra,  geometry,  trigonometry  and  conic  sections. 

Drawing.     Continuation  of  perspective,  shades,,  and  drawing  from  nature. 

Application  of  language  to  the  acquirement  of  knowledge. 

Continuation  of  the  study  of  the  intellectual  and  moral  man. 

Relations  of  the  physical,  intellectual  and  moral  man  to  other  beings. 

Continuation  of  the  study  of  the  three  kingdoms  of  nature. 

Elementary  course  of  physic  and  chemistry. 

Geography,  mathematics  and  history. 

History,  2d  degree. 

Application  of  arithmetic  and  geometry  united,  to  agriculture,  drafting,  etc. 
Observations  on  the  study  of  foreign  languages. 

In  each  stage  of  development  it  is  important  that  the  mother  tongue  should 
always  keep  a  little  before  all  foreign  languages,  that  the  child  should  learn  noth- 
ing in  these  he  does  not  already  know  in  that,  so  as  to  leave  no  deficiency  in  the 
mother  tongue.  If  any  study  were  pursued  by  the  child  in  a  foreign  language 
only,  such  language  would  in  this  department  take  the  lead ;  the  child  would  find 


KRtJSI,  VIEWS  AND  PLAN  OF  EDUCATION.  ?5S 

it  difficult  to  express  himself  in  his  own  tongue  on  subjects  learned  by  means  of 
a  strange  one.  On  the  contrary,  the  study  of  all  foreign  languages  should  serve 
to  make  the  mother  tongue  better  known. 

In  a  seminary  where  different  pupils  speak  different  languages,  these  must  go 
hand  in  hand,  and  every  branch  of  instruction  must  be  cultivated  in  them  both. 

Hence  results  this  advantage,  that  the  pupil  learns  by  intuition  the  meaning 
of  the  words  of  the  language  which  is  foreign  to  him,  that  is  to  say  he  every  in- 
stant sees  this  meaning,  and  does  not  learn  it  solely  from  translation  and  memory. 
This  mode  of  employing  two  languages  singularly  facilitates  the  communication 
of  ideas  in  them  both.  It  also  gives  the  advantage  of  comparing  them,  and 
thereby  teaches  their  actual  relations  and  difference  both  as  to  ground  and  form. 
A  knowledge  of  the  genius,  the  peculiarities  and  the  shades  of  meaning  of  each 
are  the  fruits  of  this  comparison. 

Dead  languages  are  more  foreign  to  the  mind  of  a  child,  and  more  difficult  for 
him.  The  study  of  them  should  be  based  upon  a  sufficient  development  of  the 
living  languages,  and  above  all  of  the  native  language ;  without  which  they  re- 
main dead  in  the  mind,  without  real  fruit.  This  study  should  not  therefore  be- 
gin before  the  third  period  $  and  should  not  occupy  all  the  pupils,  but  only  those 
destined  to  walk  in  the  paths  of  science.  Those  otherwise  to  be  disposed  of,  may 
employ  their  time  and  their  endeavors  to  much  greater  advantage. 

III.    RELIGION.       THE    SOUL    AND    THE    FINAL    END    OF    ALL    EDUCATION. 

Third  means  for  the  cultivation  of  man. 

As  the  body  is  vivified  by  the  soul,  so  domestic,  social  and  intellectual  life  are 
animated  and  ennobled  by  religion.  Without  it  the  activity  of  man  in  each  of 
these  three  spheres,  has  only  a  terrestrial  object  and  falls  short  of  its  true  dignity 
and  destiny. 

Thus  the  relations  of  father  and  mother  are  ennobled  and  sanctified  when  the 
father  and  the  mother  consider  themselves,  in  respect  to  their  children,  as  the 
representatives  of  God,  the  common  father  of  all. 

The  state  of  the  child  is  ennobled  and  sanctified,  when  we  not  only  feel  our- 
selves children  of  mortal  parents,  but  at  the  same  time  children  of  God,  destined 
to  rise  to  perfection  even  as  our  heavenly  father  is  perfect. 

The  state  of  brothers  and  sisters  is  also  ennobled  and  sanctified  when  we  re- 
cognise all  mankind  as  brothers  and  sisters  and  members  of  one  same  family. 

The  endeavors  we  make  to  develop  our  intellectual  faculties  and  to  gain  a 
knowledge  of  truth,  are  sanctified  when  we  acknowledge  God  as  the  fountain  of 
all  wisdom  and  the  eternal  source  of  all  virtue  and  goodness.  All  earthly  life  is 
sanctified  when  made  a  preparation  for  one  heavenly  and  immortal. 

The  specific  means  which  education  may  adopt  to  promote  in  the  child  a  reli- 
gious life  are  : 

1.  Pious  exercises,  the  principal  of  which  is  prayer. 

2.  Religious  conversations,  in  which  we  take  advantage  of  the  circumstances 
and  events  of  life  to  raise  the  soul  of  the  child  from  what  is  earthly  and  fugitive, 
to  what  is  heavenly  and  everlasting. 

3.  The  study  of  sacred  history  and  important  passages  of  Holy  Writ,  chosen 
with  care,  according  to  the  degree  of  development  the  child  may  have  attained, 
and  which,  committed  to  memory,  are  germs  which  religious  instruction  and  the 
events  of  life  will  hereafter  develop. 

4.  Religious  instruction  properly  so  called  ;  or  the  regular  explanation  of  the 
doctrine  of  our  Saviour.     This  instruction  should  only  take  place  in  the  4th  period 
of  development-,  and  the  chief  aim  of  every  preceding  period  should  be  to  pre- 
pare for  it.     It  should  close  the  child's  career  and  become  his  support  in  the  hour 
of  trial,  his  guide  to  direct  his  steps  to  the  highest  point  of  perfection  of  which  his 
nature  is  susceptible 

All  education  should  proceed  from  man  and  lead  to  God.  Man  should  en- 
deavor to  live  in  God  and  for  God,  and  to  devote  to  HIM  all  his  terrestrial  and 
intellectual  existence.  To  this,  domestic  and  social  life,  exterior  nature,  and  all 
the  circumstances  through  which  he  passes  here  below,  should  conduct  him* 
But  it  is  only  through  the  influence  of  God,  that  all  these  can  produce  this  effect; 
the  sublime  truths  of  the  gospel  can  alone  K-ad  us  into  that  way  which  leads  to 
that  heavenly  life  which  is  our  truj  destination. 


358  KRIISI,  VIEWS  AND  PLAN  OF  EDUCATION. 


PROSPECTUS    OF    AN    ESTABLISHMENT    FOR    THE    EDUCATION   OF    BOYS. 

From  the  earliest  age  at  which  they  can  receive  regular  instruction,  to  that  in  which  the$ 
should  enter  into  a  scientific  pursuit,  a  profession,  or  business. 

This  establishment  was  commenced  three  years  ago.  While  I  was  yet  with  Mr. 
Pestalozzi,  working  with  him  in  his  undertaking  and  teaching  in  his  institution,  two 
pupils  were  unexpectedly  committed  to  my  particular  care  and  direction.  These  were 
shortly  followed  by  a  third,  their  relation.  From  that  time  a  combination  of  circum- 
stances independent  of  my  will  induced  me  to  leave  the  institution  1  had  assisted  to 
form  and  direct  during  sixteen  years.  I  should  above  all  things  have  preferred,  aftei 
this  separation,  to  have  labored  to  form  teachers  for  the  people,  taking  poor  children 
equal  to  the  office.  Seeing  the  accomplishment  of  this  desire  beyond  my  reach,  1  ap- 
plied myself  to  measures  more  within  my  ability,  and  such  as  appeared  appointed  by 
Providence.  I  extended  my  sphere  of  activity,  receiving  such  new  pupils  as  were 
intrusted  to  my  care  unsought  by  me. 

This  train  of  circumstances  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the  other  my  desire  to  remain 
attached  to  Messrs.  Niederer  and  Naef,  (during  many  years  my  friends  and  companions 
in  labor,)  and  with  them  to  devote  my  life  to  education,  induced  me  again  to  choose 
Yverdun  for  the  place  of  my  intended  labor,  and  for  the  gradual  growth  of  my  rising 
institution. 

Our  union  enables  us  to  find  means  and  men  competent  in  every  respect  to  insure 
the  prosperity  of  our  three  institutions,  (that  of  Mr.  Naef  for  the  deaf  and  dumb,  that 
of  Mr.  Niederer  for  youth  of  either  sex,  and  mine.)  Mr.  Nabholz,  whose  sentiments 
and  purposes  resemble  our  own,  will  enter  my  institution  as  assistant.  Mr.  Steiner, 
a  pupil  of  Pestalozzi,  will  teach  mathematics,  in  which  his  talents  and  success  afford 
the  brightest  hopes.  Keeping  up  friendly  intercourse  with  Mr.  Brousson,  principal  of 
the  College  of  Yverdun  and  with  other  respectable  men,  I  receive  from  tnem,  in  the 
different  branches  of  instruction,  assistance  of  importance  to  me,  and  on  the  continu- 
ance of  which  I  can  depend.  In  my  former  situation  the  frequent  changes  which  oc- 
curred among  my  companions  in  labor  often  pained  me  on  account  of  its  influence 
on  the  success  of  that  undertaking  to  which  1  devoted  my  life. 

To  avoid  a  like  inconvenience,  which  must  inevitably  produce  every  kind  of  discord, 
and  expose  an  institution  subject  to  it,  to  great  dangers,  we  shall  choose  our  assistants 
and  fellow-laborers  with  the  greatest  circumspection. 

The  views  which  serve  as  the  foundation  of  my  enterprise  are  the  same  with  those 
I  have  helped  to  develop  under  the  paternal  direction  of  Pestalozzi.  All  that  I  have 
found  in  many  years'  observation,  both  by  my  own  experience  and  that  with  my  pupils, 
to  be  true  and  conducive  to  the  entire  culture  of  man,  I  shall  strive  by  unremitting  efforts 
to  develop  more  and  more  in  myself  and  to  apply  in  a  natural  manner  for  the  advantage 
of  my  pupils.* 

My  first  object  is,  to  establish  in  my  institution  a  true  domestic  life ;  that  all  the  pu- 
pils may  be  considered  as  members  of  one  family,  and  that  thus  all  those  sentiments 
and  all  those  virtues  which  are  necessary  to  a  happy  existence,  and  which  render  the 
connections  of  life  pure  and  sweet,  may  be  developed.  s 

Without  this  foundation,  I  believe  that  the  blessing  of  God  is  wanting  on  every 
means  of  education  whatever. 

The  extent  of  knowledge  and  executive  ability  which  the  pupils  will  acquire  is  in 
part  the  same  for  all,  and  in  part  influenced  by  individual  dispositions  and  destinations. 
It  is  the  same  for  all  inasmuch  as  it  embraces  the  development  of  the  faculties  and 
powers  most  essential  to  human  nature.  Thus  far,  the  method  has  acquired  an  inva- 
riable basis,  inasmuch  as  it  has  established  language,  number  and  form,  as  produc- 
tions of  the  human  mind  and  as  the  universal  means  by  which  the  mind  should  be 
developed. 

The  acquisition  of  knowledge  and  executive  skill  as  a  result  of  this  development  are 
secured  either  by  means  of  exercises  in  language,  number  and  form,  or  connect  them- 
selves with  these  in  a  very  simple  manner.  Thus,  with  the  study  of  numbers  is  con- 
nected mercantile  and  scientific  calculation.  The  study  of  form  and  size  leads  to  the 
art  of  drawing  and  writing.  The  exercises  in  the  mother  tongue  as  a  means  of  de- 
veloping the  mind  of  the  child,  conduct  to  the  study  of  foreign  languages  and  to  the 
knowledge  of  objects,  which  the  tongue  serves  to  'seize  and  to  define.  Music  as  a 
combined  production  of  two  elements  is  allied  to  language  by  tone,  and  to  number  by 
measure. 

In  the  circle  of  human  knowledge,  man  as  a  compound  being  is  the  center  <><"  « 
double  world  :  of  an  exterior  and  physical  world  to  which  the  three  kingdoms  of  nacir* 

"  I  have  endeavored  in  the  Coup  d'oeil  which  precedes  this  announcement,  to  state  the 
means  of  education  such  as  I  conceive  them  to  be.  This  exposition  will  be  the  model  and 
the  basis  of  my  work.  It  is  evident  that  these  views  and  tlicse  means  can  not  all  be  devel- 
oped by  a  single  man  or  a  single  institution.  It  is  a  task  in  which  all  the  friends  of  education 
must  cooperate. 


KRUSI,  VIEWS  AND  PLAN  OF  EDUCATION.  359 

oelong,  and  alsc  the  earth  which  contains  them  and  all  exterior  nature  ;  and  of  an  interior 
world,  intellectual  and  moral,  which,  proceeding  from  the  faculties  and  the  powers  01 
our  nature,  contains  all  the  whole  sphere  of  the  connections  of  man,  and  of  his  du- 
ties toward  himself,  toward  his  fellow  creatures,  and  toward  God.  The  child  should 
be  as  familiar  with  this  interior  world  as  with  the  exterior  and  physical  world. 

Intellectual  cultivation  should  be  accompanied  by  cultivation  of  the  heart.  The 
physical  powers  should  also  be  developed,  in  order  that  the  body  may  be  able  to  per- 
form what  the  mind  has  conceived  and  the  will  has  resolved.  Bodily  exercise  in  this 
respect  possesses  an  essential  and  incontestible  value.  The  mind  and  the  heart  stand 
in  need  of  the  body  in  all  the  actions  of  life.  The  operations  of  the  soul  are  hamp- 
ered in  proportion  as  the  body  is  neglected,  or  unequal  to  execute  its  orders. 

In  regard  to  the  admission  and  residence  of  pupils  in  my  school,  I  desire  'parents 
who  propose  to  intrust  their  children  to  my  care,  to  fully  weigh  the  following  consid- 
erations. 

The  two  most  decisive  epochs  in  education  are  that  of  early  infancy  under  the 
mother's  care,  and  that  where  the  youth  enters  into  manhood.  If  these  two  periods  are 
successfully  passed,  it  may  be  considered  that  the  education  has  succeeded.  If  either 
has  been  neglected  or  ill-directed,  the  man  feels  it  during  his  whole  life.  The  a.ge  of 
boyhood  being  the  intermediate  perio:!  between  early  infancy  and  youth,  is  of  unmis- 
takable importance,  as  the  development  of  the  first  period,  and  the  germ,  of  the  third ;  but 
in  no  case  does  this  age  influence  either  decisively,  by  repairing  previous  defects  or  neg- 
lects, or  bi/  in-taring  what  shallfollow.  In  the  first  age  the  child  belongs  by  preference 
to  its  mother,  to  be  taken  care  of  by  her;  in  the  second  age  it  belongs  by  preference  to 
its  father,  to  be  directed  by  him.  As  a  young  man,  a  new  existence  opens  to  him,  he 
ceases  to  be  the  child  of  his  parents  ;  and  becomes  their  friend.  The  son,  at  maturity, 
becomes  the  tender,  intimate  and  faithful  friend  of  his  parents,  as  he  was,  in  his  mi- 
nority, their  amiable,  docile,  and  faithful  child. 

With  regard  to  exterior  life,  the  child  must  sooner  or  later  become  an  orphan,  and 
when  this  misfortune  befalls  him  in  his  minority,  society  provides  that  a  guardian  shall  " 
supply  the  place  of  parents  until  he  comes  of  age.  For  the  interior  life,  no  one  can  sup- 
ply this  place  for  him.  Nothing  but  intellectual  and  moral  strength  in  the  child  himself, 
and  strengthened  by  that  wisdom  and  that  love  which  proceed  from  God,  can  bring  us 
near  to  HIM  and  supply  the  place  of  the  wisdom  and  the  love  of  our  father  and  mother. 
When  the  young  man  has  attained  this  point,  it  is  only  as  a  friend  that  he  remains  the 
child  of  his  parents.  If  he  is  not  brought  up  in  these  noble  dispositions,  an  unhappy 
consequence  follows;  the  lx>nds  of  nature  are  broken  on  his  coming  of  age.  because 
these  bonds  were  only  of  force  with  respect  to  physical  life  ;  and  the  child,  who,  in  this 
first  friendship — in  this  friendship  whose  objects  are  nearest  to  him — has  not  supported  the 
trial  of  fidelity,  will  never  bear  the  test  for  any  being  upon  earth. 

Therefore  it  is  that  this  period  in  education  is  so  important,  so  decisive,  and  so  ex- 
acting more  than  any  other.  On  the  one  hand  it  requires  the  purity  and  tender  affec- 
tion of  domestic  life,  and  on  the  other  side,  solid  and  wholesome  food  for  the  mind. 

In  this  exigency  a  means  presents  itself  which  ought  to  be  the  keystone  in  the  edu- 
cation of  the  child,  the  resting  place  for  the  passage  from  minority  to  majority,  the 
foundation  of  a  new  life ;  a  means  raised  above  every  other,  namely,  Religion — the 
revelation  of  all  that  is  divine  in  man  manifested  by  Jesus  Christ.  The  young  man, 
who  in  body,  as  a  mortal,  ceases  to  be  a  child,  should  become  a  new  child  in  soul, 
and  as  an  immortal  being.  After  entering  this  new  state,  he  ought  in  general  to  cease 
to  be  the  pupil  of  men,  to  raise  himself  above  their  direction,  and  to  become  the  pupil 
of  himself,  that  is  to  say,  of  that  wisdom  and  that  love  which  comes  to  us  from  God  and 
raises  us  to  him. 

So  long  as  a  man  has  not  attained  this  point,  his  education  is  incomplete.  The  aim 
of  education  is  to  enable  him  to  reach  it. 

To  strive  incessantly  toward  this  object,  is  the  task  of  the  institution  here  announced 

YVKRDUN,  Pestalozzi's  birthday,  1818. 


This  facsimile  of 
a  page  from  one  of 
Pestalozzi's  manu- 
scripts, shows  the 
curiously  compos- 
ite character  of  the 
books  issued  as  his. 
The  matter  at  the 
top  is  in  P.esta- 
lozzi's  handwrit- 
ing, and  seems  by 
no  means  so  illeg- 
ible as  represented. 
The  addition  be- 
low is  by  Ram- 
sauer  (p.  305),  who 
has  been  so  of- 
ten charged  with 
"editing  "  Pesta- 
lozzi's  writings  till 
they  became  his 
own.  The  writing 
on  the  side  is 
probablyNiederer's 
(  p.  293),  while  the 
note  crossed  out 
seems  to  be  by 
Tobler(p.361).  We 
regret  that  it  is 
impossible  here  to 
show  the  difference 
in  the  ink,  four 
different  kinds  of 
which  are  plainly 
used  at  as  many 
different  dates. 
The  original  was 
lent  us  by  Her- 
mann Krtisi.  the 
son  of  Prof.  Krusi 
(p.  323),  who  was 
born  at  Yverdun, 
and  was  christened 
by  Pestalozzi.  He 
was  well  known  as 
a  teacher  in  t  h  e 
Oswego  Normal. 


JOHN  GEORGE  TOBLEK. 


JOHN  GEORGE  TOBLER,  an  educator  of  the  Pestalozzian  school,, 
was  born  at  Trogen,  in  the  canton  of  Appenzell-Ausserrhoden,  in 
Switzerland,  October  17,  1769.  He  lost  his  mother  in  his  third  year, 
and  his  father  in  his  tenth.  His  education  was  very  inadequate,  as 
was  usual  in  those  times.  His  disposition  inclined  him  to  become  a 
preacher.  Want  of  means,  however,  prevented  him  until  his  twenty- 
third  year,  when  with  a  very  insufficient  preparation  he  entered  the 
University  of  Basle.  With  all  the  other  qualifications  for  becoming 
a  valuable  preacher  and  catechist,  his  memory  for  words  failed  him  in 
respect  to  the  acquisition  of  foreign  languages.  This  defect  decided 
him  entirely  to  give  up  entering  for  the  examination  as  candidate. 
He  was  to  find  a  greater  sphere  of  usefulness  in  another  career.  He 
exchanged  his  theological  studies  for  the  practical  employment  of  a 
tutor  and  teacher. 

In  1799.  he  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  a  school  for  the  female 
children  of  emigrants  at  Basle.  An  invitation  from  Pestalozzi  brought 
him  to  Burgdorf  in  May,  1800.  He  there  became  the  friend  of 
Buss  and  Krlisi,  and  married,  and  after  a  short  disagreement  with 
Pestalozzi,  labored  with  him  for  seven  years  at  Munchen  Buchsee  and 
Yverdun.  Circumstances  brought  him  to  Miihlhausen,  where,  besides 
other  exertions,  he  founded  his  labor-school,  which  quickly  increased 
so  as  to  contain  from  four  to  six  hundred  scholars,  but  which  came  to 
an  end  in  181 1,  in  the  midst  of  a  prosperous  career.  Tobler  returned  to 
Basle,  and  set  about  collecting  his  pedagogical  views  and  experiences, 
and  preparing  for  the  press  a  geography  upon  Pestalozzi's  principles. 

His  pecuniary  needs,  however,  obliging  him  to  seek  another  situa- 
tion, he  obtained  a  place  as  teacher  in  a  private  institution  in  Glarus. 
On  New  Year's  day  of  1817,  together  with  his  fellow-teachers,  he 
was  dismissed,  by  reason  of  the  famine.  He  immediately  turned  to- 
his  profession  of  tutor,  and  held  a  situation  for  three  entire  years,  in 
an  eminent  family  of  the  neighborhood.  The  children  being  after- 
ward sent  to  a  newly  erected  cantonal  school,  he  went  to  Arbon  .on 
the  Lake  of  Constance,  with  the  design  of  erecting  there,  instead  of 
a  school,  a  superior  orphan-house ;  but  the  place  was  too  small.  A. 
year  afterward  he  went  to  St.  Gall.  Here,  the  real  star  of  his  peda 


362  JOHN  GEORGE  TOBLER. 

gogical  career  shone  out  upon  him.  That  place  J-->.-r\vs  -latitude 
for  having  afforded  him  ten  years  together,  of  free  and  unimpeded 
room  for  the  display  of  his  talents  as  teacher  and  educator.  One  of 
the  noblest  fruits  of  this  time,  was  the  education  of  a  son  to  follow 
his  father's  honorable  example.  In  1831,  this  son  was  able  to 
graduate  from  school,  and  in  1836,  lie  left  St.  Gall,  and  accompanied 
Niederer  to  Yverdun.  and  then  to  Geneva,  at  both  of  which  places  he 
was  at  the  head  of  institutions  of  his  own ;  and  was  also  of  very 
great  service  to  Niederer's  school  for  girls.  At  present  he  tills  the 
place  of  director  of  a  cantonal  school  at  Trogen. 

Tobler  passed  his  latter  years  at  Basle,  in  part  with  his  second  son, 
the  principal  of  a  boys1  school  at  Nyon  ;  where  he  died  in  his  seventy- 
fourth  year,  after  a  short  sickness,  Aug.  10,  1843.  The  last  months 
of  his  life  were  rendered  happy  by  an  elevated  self-consciousness,  by 
the  pleasant  prospect  of  ending  his  days  at  his  native  place,  as  he 
desired,  and  by  incessant  and  active  occupation  in  setting  in  order  his 
writings  and  his  domestic  affairs.  His  inner  life  was  as  happy  and 
elevated  above  earthly  things  as  the  evening  sun,  amidst  the  eternal 
blue  of  heaven. 

After  this  short  sketch  of  Tobler's  life,  varied  and  struggling  as  it 
was,  although  not  fateful,  we  may  devote  a  few  words  to  his  intellectual 
peculiarities,  his  rank  as  a  teacher,  and  his  services  to  humanity  and 
human  culture. 

His  moral  and  religious  nature  was  his  predominating  trait;  the 
key-tone  of  his  mind.  His  father,  who  filled  the  place  of  both  father 
and  mother  to  his  sensitive  nature,  inspired  these  sentiments  into  him 
while  yet  a  child.  The  maxim  "Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God  (oj 
what  was  with  him  its  equivalent,  the  sphere  of  attainments  accord- 
ing to  Christ)  and  its  righteousness,  and  all  other  things  shall  be 
added  unto  you,"  was  his  rule  of  life;  and  in  his  teaching  and  his 
example,  afforded  him  constant  assistance  in  answering  such  questions 
as  arose  during  his  labors  for  moral  improvement. 

As  soon  as  he  could  write,  he  commenced  the  practice  of  taking 
down  sermons  and  catechizings;  and  thus  acquired  great  facility  in 
his  German  style,  and  a  mastery  of  analytic  methods  which  afterward 
stood  him  in  good  stead  by  enabling  him  to  deliver  extemporaneous 
sermons  and  addresses  to  children,  and  to  compose  excellent  sketches 
•of  sermons.  His  popular  and  instructive  style  occasioned  various 
congregations,  after  hearing  him,  to  desire  him  for  a  pastor.  His 
morning  and  evening  prayers  with  pupils  and  children  were  exceedingly 
simple,  pathetic,  clear,  and  impressive.  In  moments  of  higher  excite- 
ment, the  very  spirit  of  the  Apostle  John's  epistles  spoke  through 


JOHN  GEORGE  TOBLER.  363 

His  religious  instruction  and  other  Sabbath  exercises  exerted  a 
profound  influence  upon  the  neglected  children  of  the  manufacturing 
school  at  Miihlhausen. 

While  a  student  at  Basle,  Tobler  exercised  a  predominating  influ- 
ence over  numbers  of  his  fellow  students,  in  inciting  them  to  industry, 
and  inspiring  them  with  the  idea  of  the  honorableness  of  their  future 
calling.  He  was  one  of  the  founders  there  of  a  society  for  intel- 
lectual improvement;  an  enterprise  which  later  events  rendered  pro- 
phetical. A  very  remarkable  difference  was  to  be  observed  between 
the  after  lives  of  those  who  were  his  friends,  and  others. 

While  he  was  teacher  and  director  of  the  female  school  at  Basle, 
he  followed  in  general  the  doctrines  of  Basedow,  Campe,  and  Salzmann. 
His  method  of  teaching  was  substantially  that  which  has  since  been 
•named  the  Socratic.  By  strictly  adhering  to  this  method  he  endeavored 
to  call  into  life  and  to  develop  the  minds  and  hearts  of  his  scholars, 
not  however  in  the  ancient  Greek  spirit,  but  in  that  of  Christ ;  and 
thus  he  proceeded  until  the  man  appeared  upon  the  stage,  who  gave 
an  entirely  new  meaning  to  the  word  Education,  who  completely  ap- 
prehended the  entire  subjects  of  education  and  instruction,  who  estab- 
lished them  as  an  independent  art  and  science,  and  made  an  epoch  in 
their  history.  To  Pestalozzi  Tobler  adhered,  and  was  afterward  his 
steady  disciple. 

Tobler  fully  comprehended  Pestalozzi's  idea  and  method,  in  their 
.general  collective  significance  for  humanity  and  education.  Their 
individual  principle  separately  was  more  difficult  of  comprehension  to 
him.  He  understood  it  to  be  Spontaneous  Activity.  This,  however, 
he  considered  only  as  a  receiving  and  working  faculty,  to  be  developed 
by  perception  and  drilling  (i.  e.  Receptivity  and  Spontaneity  ;  Nature 
and  Capacity ;  Faculties ;)  and  in  this  opinion  he  was  quite  correct, 
as  well  as  in  regard  to  the  relation  of  these  faculties  to  the  three  sub- 
jects of  instruction,  nature,  man,  and  God.  But  Pestalozzi  had  deter- 
mined a  third  sub-division  of  this  Spontaneous  Activity,  before  un- 
recognized, and  had  distinguished  within  it  the  elements  pertaining 
to  the  intellect  and  to  the  feelings,  viz.,  that  of  the  productive  spon- 
taneous activity  of  the  moral  and  intellectual  powers,  (the  talents  ?) 
In  this  consists  the  peculiarity  and  importance  of  Pestalozzi's  dis- 
coveries in  method,  and  of  the  discoveries  and  the  revolution  thus 
originated.  It  is  by  operating  according  to  this  distinction  that  the 
progress  of  the  development  and  general  training  of  human  nature  is 
assured,  and  the  real  intellectual  and  moral  emancipation  of  the 
schools  substantially  established. 

During  the  first  period  of  Pestalozzi's  institution,  Tobler  took  part 


364  JOHN  GEORGE  TOBLER. 

with  all  in  everything  as  a  beloved  teacher  and  pupil.  In  a  genera! 
activity  of  this  kind  consisted  what  might  be  called  Festalozzi's. 
jubilee.  Then,  all  the  teachers  were  pupils,  and  all  the  pupils  teach 
ers ;  so  far  as  they  brought  forward  independent  matter  of  their  own,, 
and  furnished  results  of  their  own  inner  activity.  After  a  time,  how- 
ever, the  necessity  of  the  separation  and  ordering  of  different  depart- 
ments of  instruction  and  drilling,  rendered  it  necessary  for  Tobler  to- 
select  some  special  department  of  labor ;  and  he  selected  the  real 
branches  ;  and  among  them,  that  of  elementary  geography.  He  estab- 
lished the  principles  of  this  study  by  reference  to  the  actual  surface 
of  earth,  and  to  the  pupil's  own  sphere  of  vision,  with  a  success 
which  entitles  him  to  the  name  of  the  father  of  the  new  method  in. 
geography.  Hitter,  who  knew  his  labors,  and  proceeded  onward 
from  their  termination,  passed  beyond  the  sphere  of  education,  by  a 
giant  stride  forward  in  his  science. 

Tobler's  personal  relations  with  Pestalozzi  were  neither  fortunate 
nor  enduring.  Pestalozzi  had  not  the  faculty  of  determining  the 
proper  place  for  each  of  his  assistants,  and  of  laying  out  for  each  of 
them  his  appointed  work.  He  was  neither  an  organizer  nor  adminis- 
trator ;  and  he  regarded  Tobler's  wishes  in  this  respect  as  mere  as- 
sumption and  weakness.  Tobler  could  not  bring  out  the  real  value 
of  his  views,  without  their  complete  display  in  actual  operation. 
Whoever  could  at  once  put  a  matter  into  a  distinctly  practical  form 
could  in  Pestalozzi's  eyes  do  everything  ;  and  whoever  fell  at  all  short 
of  this,  nothing.  Tobler,  therefore,  wholly  absorbed  in  the  business 
of  elementarizing,  did  nothing  to  please  or  satisfy  Pestalozzi.  The 
elementarizing  of  instruction,  and  of  the  so-called  "real  branches," 
required  too  much  at  once ;  namely,  the  investigation  and  harmonious 
arrangement  of  the  elements  and  laws  of  two  spheres,  viz.,  that  of 
children's  powers,  and  that  of  the  proposed  subject-matter  of  them. 
Pestalozzi  required  from  Tobler,  simple,  rapid  and  immediate  results 
from  this  investigation,  even  when  the  indispensable  materials  for 
them  were  wanting.  Both  Tobler  and  Pestalozzi,  moreover,  were  in 
the  habit  of  very  plain  speaking;  and  as  husband  and  father,  Tobler 
could  not  devote  his  entire  life  to  Pestaloza. 

This  false  position  of  Tobler's  gradually  became  that  of  the  teach- 
ers and  pupils  of  the  institution.  And  Pestalozzi's  disposition  andj 
opinions  passed  more  and  more  under  the  influence  of  a  single  one 
of  the  assistant  teachers  (Schmid.) 

At  Miinchen  Buchsee,  Tobler  was  a  promoter  of  the  separation  be- 
tween Pestalozzi  and  von  Fellenberg.  Cooperation  with  the  latter,, 
was  possible  only  on  condition  of  complete  submission  to  his  authority;. 


JOHN  GEORGE  TOBLER.  365 

a  claim  which  von  Fellenberg  made  on  the  ground  of  his  social  posi- 
tion. But  tli 3  views  of  the  two  men  were  too  radically  differ,  nt;  of 
!the  world,  .of  men,  and  of  pedagogy.  It  is  true  that  pedagogical ly, 
von  Fellenberg  proceeded  on  Pestalozzi's  principles;  but  it  was  upon 
those  principles  as  he  entertained  them  when  he  wrote  Leonard  and 
Oertrude;  when  he  considered  the  common  school  as  a  valuable  in- 
strumentality for  the  training  by  society  of  its  needed  members;  i.e., 
for  education  to  agriculture,  manufacturing,  and  trades.  This  view 
was  in  harmony  with  the  caste-spirit  of  society;  "The  individual  was 
not  considered  as  a  moral  person,  and  society  subordinated  to  him  as 
to  a  superior  being,  but  he  was  placed  quite  below  it."  Pestalozzi  had, 
while  at  Stanz  and  Burgdorf,  risen  very  far  above  this  view.  He  had 
turned  about,  let  go  his  consideration  of  mere  purposes,  and  had  laid 
hold  upon  the  principle  of  personal  exterior  independence;  not  merely 
as  a  negative,  but  as  a  positive  fact.  This  starting  point  von  Fellen- 
berg did  not  recognize;  and  Tobler,  therefore,  could  not  agree  with 
him.  The  true  reason  why  no  union  between  von  Fellenberg  and 
Pestalozzi  and  the  Pestalozzians  never  took  place  is,  therefore,  not  to  be 
sought  amongst  any  accidental  circumstances,  but  in  their  radical  op- 
position of  views. 

In  Miihlhausen,  and  afterward  in  Glarus,  Tobler  established  new 
schools.  His  want  of  adaptedness  to  the  demands  of  the  times  upon 
the  teacher  and  educator  here  came  sharply  out.  He  experienced,  by 
the  severe  lesson  of  falling  into  poverty  and  want,  the  truth,  that  no 
one,  even  if  possessed  of  a  lofty  new  truth,  strong  by  nature,  and 
really  deserving  of  confidence  and  support,  can  unpunished  oppose 
himself  to  the  tendencies  of  the  age.  Every  new  truth  has  its  martyrs  ; 
and  a  pedagogical  truth  as  well  as  others. 

His  real  excellence,  and  his  maturest,  he  showed  at  St.  Gall,  while 
director  and  center  of  his  school  there,  as  educator  and  instructor  of 
his  pupils,  as  guide  to  his  assistants,  and  as  unwearied  and  unsatisfied 
investigator  after  new  applications  of  the  Pestalozzian  method  to 
language,  geography  and  Natural  History.  He  invented  a  useful 
alphabetical  and  reading  machine,  arranged  a  simplified  mode  of  Vnap- 
drawing,  and  a  good  though  unfinished  course  of  instruction  in  Na- 
tural History.  Having  continual  reference  to  the  common  schools,  he 
paid  much  attention  to  the  subject  of  obtaining  cheap  materials  for 
instruction,  and  took  great  interest  in  the  training  of  teachers,  for 
which  also  he  accomplished  considerable  good. 

An  idea  which  never  left  him  after  his  connection  with  Pestalozzi, 
was  the  training  of  mothers  as  teachers ;  and  the  establishment  of 
the  belief  of  the  destiny  and  fitness  of  the  female  sex  for  this  high 


366  JOHN  GEORGE  TOBLER. 

calling.  Even  in  his  latter  years  he  was  still  enthusiastic  upon  this- 
subject,  and  Niederer's  female  school  at  Geneva,  owes  to  him  much 
that  is  valuable. 

The  following  account  of  Tobler's  educational  experiments  and 
failures,  is  given  in  his  own  words,  in  Pestalozzi's  "Eliza  and 
Christopher." 

"  After  having  been,  for  six  years,  practically  engaged  in  education,  I  found  the 
result  of  my  labors  by  no  means  answering  my  expectations.  The  energy  of  the 
children,  their  internal  powers,  did  not  increase  according  to  the  measure  of  my 
exertions,  nor  even  in  proportion  to  the  extent  of  positive  information  which  they 
had  acquired :  nor  did  the  knowledge  which  I  imparted  to  them  appear  to  me  to 
have  a  sufficiently  strong  hold  upon  their  minds,  or  to  be  so  well  connected  in  its 
various  parts,  as  J  felt  it  ought  to  be. 

I  made  use  of  the  best  juvenile  works  that  were  to  be  had  at  that  time.  But 
these  books  contained  words,  of  which  the  greater  part  were  unintelligible  to 
children,  and  ideas  far  beyond  the  sphere  of  their  own  experience ;  and  conse- 
quently formed,  altogether,  so  strong  a  contrast  with  the  mode  of  thinking,  feel- 
ing, and  speaking,  natural  to  their  age,  that  it  took  endless  time  and  trouble  to  ex- 
plain all  that  they  could  not  understand.  But  this  process  of  explaining  was  in 
itself  a  tedious  job,  and,  after  all,  it  did  no  more  toward  advancing  their  true  in- 
ternal development,  than  is  done  toward  dispelling  darkness  by  introducing  a  few 
detached  rays  of  light  in  a  dark  room,  or  in  the  obscurity  of  a  dense,  impenetrable 
mist.  The  reason  of  this  was,  that  these  books  descended  to  the  profoundest 
depths  of  human  knowledge,  or  ascended  above  the  clouds,  nay,  and  to  the  upper- 
most heavens  of  eternal  glory,  before  an  opportunity  was  offered  to  the  children 
of  resting  their  feet  on  the  solid  ground  of  mother  earth  ;  on  which,  neverthelessv 
it  is  absolutely  necessary  that  men  should  be  allowed  to  stand,  if  they  are  to  learn 
walking  before  flying-,  and  for  the  latter,  moreover,  if  it  is  to  be  flying  indeed, 
their  wings  must  have  time  to  grow. 

An  obscure  foreboding  of  those  truths  in  my  mind,  induced  me,  at  an  early 
period,  to  try  to  entertain  my  younger  pupils  with  matters  of  immediate  perception, 
and  to  clear  up  the  ideas  of  the  elder  ones  by  Socratic  conversations.  The  result' 
of  the  former  plan  was,  that  the  little  ones  acquired  a  variety  of  knowledge  not 
generally  to  be  met  with  at  that  age.  I  endeavored  to  combine  this  mode  of  in- 
struction with  the  methods  I  found  in  the  most  approved  works  ;  but  whichever 
of  those  books  I  took  in  hand,  they  were  all  written  in  such  a  manner  as  to  pre- 
suppose the  very  thing  which  the  children  were  in  a  great  measure  to  acquire  by 
them,  viz.,  the  knowledge  of  language.  The  consequence  was,  that  my  Socratio 
conversations  with  the  elder  pupils  led  to  no  better  result  than  all  other  explana- 
tions of  words  by  words,  to  which  no  real  knowledge  corresponds  in  the  children's 
minds,  and  of  which  they  have,  consequently,  no  clear  notion,  as  regards  either 
each  of  them  taken  separately,  or  the  connection  in  which  they  are  placed  together. 
This  was  the  case  with  my  pupils,  and,  therefore,  the  explanation  which  they 
seemed  to  understand  to-day,  would  a  few  days  after  be  completely  vanished  from 
their  minds,  in  a  manner  to  me  incomprehensible ;  and  the  more  pains  I  took  to 
make  everything  plain  to  them,  the  less  did  they  evince  energy  or  desire  to  rescue 
things  from  that  obscurity  and  confusion  in  which  they  naturally  appear. 

"With  such  experience  daily  before  me,  I  felt  myself  invincibly  impeded  in  my 
progress  to  the  end  which  I  had  proposed  to  myself.  I  began  to  converse  on  the 
subject  with  as  many  schoolmasters,  and  others  engaged  or  interested  in  education, 
as  were  accessible  to  me,  in  whatever  direction  :  but  I  found,  that  although  their 
libraries  were  well  furnished  with  works  on  education,  of  which  our  age  has  been 
so  productive,  yet  they  saw  themselves  placed  in  the  same  difficulty  with  myself, 
and  were  no  more  successful  with  their  pupils  than  I  was  with  mine.  Seeing 
this,  I  felt  with  what  an  increased  weight  these  difficulties  must  oppress  the  mas- 
ters of  public  schools,  unless,  indeed,  they  were  rendered  too  callous  for  such  a 
feeling  by  a  professional  spirit.  I  had  a  strong,  but,  unfortunately,  not  a  clear  im- 
pression of  the  defects  of  education  in  all  its  departments,  and  I  exerted  myself  to 
the  utmost  to  find  a  remedy.  I  made  a  determination  to  collect,  partly  from  my 


JOHN  GEORGE  TOBLER.  36T 

own  experience,  and  partly  from  works  on  the  subject,  all  the  means,  methods,, 
and  contrivances,  by  which  it  seemed  to  me  possible  that  the  difficulties  under 
which  I  labored,  might  be  removed  at  every  stage  of  instruction.  But  I  soon 
found  that  my  life  would  not  suffice  for  that  purpose.  Meanwhile  I  had  already 
completed  whole  volumes  of  scraps  and  extracts,  when  Fischer,  in  several  of  his 
letters,  drew  my  attention  to  the  method  of  Pestalozzi.  I  soon  began  to  suspect 
that  he  was  about  to  reach  the  end  I  was  aiming  at,  without  my  circuitous  means ; 
and  that  most  of  my  difficulties  arose  out  of  the  very  nature  of  the  plan  which  I 
followed,  and  which  was  far  too  scientific  and  systematic.  I  then  began  to  see, 
that  in  the  same  manner  the  artificial  methods,  invented  in  our  age,  were  the  very 
sources  of  all  the  defects  of  modern  education.  On  the  contrary,  I  saw  Pestalozzi 
equally  free  from  my  peculiar  difficulties,  and  from  the  general  failings,  and  I  ac- 
counted for  this  by  the  fact,  that  he  rejected  all  our  ingenious  contrivances,  all  our 
well-framed  systems.  Some  of  the  means  employed  by  him,  that  for  instance  of 
making  children  draw  on  slates,  seemed  to  me  so  simple,  that  my  only  puzzle  was, 
how  I  could  have  gone  on  so  long  without  hitting  upon  them.  I  was  struck  with 
the  idea  that  all  his  discoveries,  seemed  to  be  of  the  kind  which  might  be  termed 
"  obvious ,"  they  were  none  of  them  far-fetched.  But  what  most  attached  me  to 
his  method,  was  his  principle  of  re-educating  mothers  for  that  for  which  they  are 
originally  destined  by  nature,  for  this  principle  I  had  long  cherished  and  kept  in 
view,  in  the  course  of  my  experiments. 

I  was  confirmed  in  these  views  by  Kriisi,  who,  at  his  visit  in  Basle,  gave,  in  the 
girls'  school,  practical  specimens  of  Pestalozzi's  mode  of  teaching  spelling,  read- 
ing, and  arithmetic.  Pastor  Faesch,  and  Mr.  De  Brunn,  who  had  in  part  organiz- 
ed the  instruction  and  management  of  that  institution,  according  to  the  loose  hints 
which  had  as  yet  reached  us  on  the  Pestalozzian  method,  perceived  immediately 
what  a  powerful  impression  was  produced  upon  the  children  by  their  spelling  and 
reading  together  in  a  stated  measure  of  time.  Kriisi  had  also  brought  with  him 
some  school  materials  for  the  instruction  in  writing  and  arithmetic,  and  some 
leaves  of  a  vocabulary,  which  Pestalozzi  intended  to  draw  up  as  a  first  reading- 
book  for  children  ;  which  enabled  us  to  see  the  bearing  which  Pestalozzi's  method 
had  upon  the  development  of  the  different  faculties  of  human  nature.  All  this 
contributed  to  mature  in  me,  very  rapidly,  the  determination  to  join  Pestalozzi, 
according  to  his  wish. 

I  went  to  Burgdorf,  and  the  first  impression  of  the  experiment,  in  the  state  in 
which  it  then  was,  fully  answered  my  expectations.  I  was  astonished  to  see  what 
a  striking  degree  of  energy  the  children  generally  evinced,  and  how  simple,  and 
yet  manifold,  were  the  means  of  development  by  which  that  energy  was  elicited. 
Pestalozzi  took  no  notice  whatever  of  all  the  existing  systems  and  methods  ;  the 
ideas  which  he  presented  to  the  minds  of  his  pupils  were  all  extremely  simple ; 
his  means  of  instruction  were  distinctly  subdivided,  each  part  being  calculated  for 
a  precise  period  in  the  progress  of  development ;  whatever  was  complicated  and 
confused,  he  rejected ;  by  a  few  words  he  conveyed  much,  and  with  little  apparent 
exertion  produced  a  powerful  effect ;  he  kept  always  close  to  the  point  then  under 
consideration ;  some  of  his  branches  of  instruction  seemed  like  a  new  creation, 
raised  from  the  elements  of  art  and  nature  :  all  this  I  saw,  and  my  attention  was 
excited  to  the  highest  degree. 

There  were  some  parts  of  his  experiment,  it  is  true,  which  seemed  to  me  rather 
unnatural ;  of  this  description  was,  for  instance,  the  repetition  of  difficult  and  corn- 
plicated  sentences,  which  could  not,  at  first,  but  make  a  very  confused  impression 
upon  his  pupils.  But  I  saw,  on  the  other  hand,  what  a  power  he  had  of  leading 
children  into  clear  ideas ;  yet  I  mentioned  my  doubts  to  him.  His  answer  was, 
that  nature  herself  presented  all  sorts  of  perceptions  to  our  senses  in  confusion  and 
obscurity,  and  that  she  brings  them  to  clearness  afterward.  To  this  argument  I 
had  nothing  to  reply,*  especially  as  I  saw  that  he  attached  no  value  to  the  details 

*The  obvious  reply  was,  that  the  perceptions  which  nature  presents,  however  confused, 
or  otherwise  obscure,  they  may  be,  are  realities,  and  therefore  contain  in  themselves  the  very 
elements  of  clearness,  and  at  the  same  time,  a  strong  inducement  to  search  for  those  elements. 
But  confused  impressions  made  upon  us  by  words,  are  not  realities,  but  mere  shadows ;  they 
have  in  themselves  the  elements  of  confusion,  and  they  offer  neither  an  inducement,  nor  th»* 
means,  for  clearing  them  up.  The  former  call  out  the  mind,  the  latter  cramp  it.  The  very 
power  which  Pestalozzi  possessed  over  his  pupils,  what  was  it  owing  to,  according  to  the 
statements  both  of  himself  and  his  friends,  but  to  his  making  a  rule  of  supplying  the  child  with 
a  clear  and  distinct  notion  of  the  reality,  before  he  gave  him  the  sign  or  shadow,  the  name  1 


368  JOHN  GEORGE  TOBLER. 

cf  his  experiment,  but  tried  many  of  them  with  a  view  to  throw  them  aside  again, 
«s  soon  as  they  should  have  answered  thc-ir  temporary  purpose.  With  many  oc 
them  he  had  no  other  object  than  to  increase  the  internal  power  of  the  children, 
and  to  obtain  for  himself  further  information  concerning  the  fundamental  princi- 
ples on  which  all  his  proceedings  rested.  I  resolved,  therefore,  not  to  mind  the 
apparent  inadequacy  of  some  of  his  means,  so  much  the  more  as  I  had  come  to  the 
conviction,  that  the  further  pursuit  of  the  experiment  necessarily  involved  the  im- 
provement of  the  details  of  the  method.  This  was  perfectly  evident  already  in 
arithmetic,  in  drawing,  and  in  the  rudiments  of  language. 

I  perceived,  likewise,  that  by  the  connection  which  his  different  means  of  in- 
struction had  with  each  other,  every  one  of  them,  individually,  was  instrumental 
in  promoting  the  success  of  all  the  others,  and,  especially,  in  developing  and 
strengthening  the  faculties  generally.  Long  before  he  began  to  lay  down  his 
principles  in  stated  terms,  I  saw,  in  the  daily  observation  of  their  practical  effect, 
the  approaching  maturity  of  the  whole  undertaking,  and,  as  an  infallible  conse- 
quence of  it,  the  gradual  attainment  of  the  object  he  had  in  view.  In  trying  the 
details  of  his  method,  he  never  leaves  any  single  exercise  until  he  has  so  far  in- 
vestigated and  simplified  it,  that  it  seems  physically  impossible  to  advance  any 
further.  Seeing  the  indefatigable  zeal  with  which  he  did  this,  I  was  more  and 
more  confirmed  in  a  sentiment,  of  which  I  had  before  had  some  indistinct  notion, 
that  all  the  attempts  at  fostering  the  development  of  human  nature,  by  means  of 
a  complicated  and  artificial  language,  must  necessarily  end  in  a  failure ;  but  that, 
on  the  contrary,  a  method  intended  to  assist  nature  in  the  course  of  human  develop- 
ment, must  be  characterised  by  the  utmost  simplicity  in 'oil  the  means  of  instruc- 
tion, and  more  especially  in  language,  which  should  be  a  faithful  expression  of  the 
simplicity  of  both  the  child's  own  mind,  and  the  objects  and  ideas  which  are  em- 
ployed for  its  cultivation.  I  now  began  to  understand,  by  degrees,  what  he  meant 
by  introducing  a  variety  of  distinctions  in  the  instruction  of  language  ;  by  aiming, 
in  his  arithmetical  instruction,  at  nothing  else  but  producing  in  the<:hild's  mind  a 
clear  and  indelible  conviction  that  all  arithmetic  was  nothing  else  but  an  abridgment 
of  tlu-  simple  process  of  enumeration,  and  the  numbers  themselves  nothing  but 
an  abridgment  of  the  wearisome  repetition,  one,  and  one,  and  one,  and  one ;  and, 
lastly,  by  declaring  an  early  development  of  the  faculty  of  drawing  lines,  angles, 
curves,  and  figures,  to  be  the  groundwork  of  art,  and  even  of  the  capacity,  which 
so  few  men  possess,  of  taking  a  distinct  view  of  visible  objects. 

I  could  not  but  feel  every  day  more  confirmed  in  the  notions  which  I  had  formed 
of  the  manifold  advantages  of  his  method,  by  being  a  constant  witness  of  the  ef- 
fects produced  by  general  development  of  the  mental  faculties  in  the  arts  of 
measuring,  calculating,  writing,  and  drawing.  I  grew  more  and  more  convinced 
that  it  was  possible  to  accomplish  what  I  have  before  stated  to  have  been  the  lead- 
ing object  of  my  own  pursuits  at  a  previous  period,  viz.,  to  re-educate  mothers 
for  the  fulfillment  of  that  sacred  task  assigned  to  them  by  nature,  the  result  of 
which  would  be,  that  even  the  first  instruction  imparted  in  schools,  would  have 
previous  maternal  tuition  for  a  foundation  to  rest  on.  I  saw  a  practical  method 
discovered,  which,  admitting  of  universal  application,  would  enable  parents,  who 
have  the  welfare  of  their  offspring  at  heart,  to  become  themselves  the  teachers  of 
their  little  ones.  From  that  moment,  popular  improvement  ceased  to  be  depend- 
ent on  the  circuitous  plan  of  training  teachers  in  expensive  seminaries,  and  with 
the  aid  of  extensive  libraries. 

In  short,  the  result  of  the  first  impression  produced  upon  my  mind  by  the  whole 
of  Pestalozzi's  experiment,  and  of  the  observations  I  have  since  been  able  to  make 
on  the  details  of  his  method,  has  been,  to  re-establish  in  my  heart  that  faith  which 
I  held  so  dear  at  the  onset  of  my  career,  but  which  I  had  almost  lost  under  the 
pressure  of  systems  sanctioned  by  the  fashion  of  the  day,  faith  in  the  practicability 
of  popular  improvement." 

In  the  progress  of  his  narrative  he  declares  himself,  that  it  was  one  of  the  characteristic  fea- 
tures of  his  method  of  teaching  language,  (hat  he  reduced  it  to  the  utmost  simplicity, "  by  ex 
eluding  from  it  every  combination  of  words  which  presupposes  a  knowledge  of  language." 
He  was  not,  however,  at  all  times,  equally  clear  on  this  point,  although  it  lies  at  the  very 
foundation  of  all  his  improvements  in  elementary  instruction. 


KARL  CHRISTIAN  WILHELM  YON  TURK 


KARL  CHRISTIAN  WILHELM  VON  TURK,  was  born  at  Meiningen, 
January  8,  1774.  He  was  the  youngest  son  of  Chamber-president 
and  High  Marshal  von  Turk,  who  was  of  a  noble  Courland  family, 
and  in  the  service  of  the  duke  of  Saxe-Meiningen.  At  his  mother's 
death,  when  a  boy  of  six  years  old,  he  was  transferred  to  the  family 
of  his  mother's  brother,  Grand  Huntsman  von  Bibra,  at  Hildburg- 
hausen,  where  he  was  brought  up  with  his  cousins  under  a  strict  tutor. 
At  seventeen  and  a  quarter  years  old,  without  having  attended  any 
public  school,  he  entered  the  University  of  Jena,  where  he  found  in 
his  elder  brother  Ludwig,  who  had  already  been  studying  there  a  year 
And  a  half,  a  true  friend  and  a  pattern  of  industry  and  good  conduct ; 
and  where  he  contracted  a  close  friendship  with  several  cotemporaries, 
amongst  whom  were  T.  von  Hardenberg,  known  as  a  poet  under  the 
name  of  Novalis,  and  von  Bassewitz,  afterward  Chief  President  and 
hi*  own  official  superior. 

After  completing  his  legal  studies,  in  1793,  he  offered  himself  for 
an  office  under  government  in  Meiningen,  which  had  been  promised 
him  while  his  father  was  Chamber-president  and  his  brother  a  govern- 
ment official,  notwithstanding  the  strictness  of  the  examination.  What, 
however,  his  knowledge  and  capacity  did  not  enable  him  to  attain,  he 
secured  by  means  of  a  very  ordinary  social  talent.  During  a  visit  in 
Hilillmrghausen,  the  Prince,  then  Duke  Karl  of  Mecklenburg,  father  of 
Queen  Louise  of  Prussia,  found  that  he  was  a  skillful  ombre-player ;  and 
he  took  so  strong  a  liking  to  him  that  afterward,  upon  receiving  the 
principality  by  the  unexpected  death  of  his  brother,  he  determined  to 
fix  him  within  his  dominions.  Accordingly,  in  the  very  next  year, 
1794,  he  appointed  von  Turk  chancery  auditor,  and  two  years  later, 
Chamberlain  and  chancery  councilor.  In  1800,  his  official  senior  von 
Kamptz,  afterward  well  known  as  Prussian  minister,  was  appointed  to 
a  public  station  in  Mecklenburg,  and  von  Turk  was  appointed  in  his 
stead  to  take  the  oversight  of  the  school  system,  with  his  judicial 
employments.  The  inquiries  which  his  new  place  suggested  to  him 
drew  his  attention  in  such  directions  that  he  became  gradually  estranged 
from  the  occupations  to  which  he  had  been  earlier  devoted. 

In  1804.  von  Turk  took  a  furlough  for  six  months,  visited  various 


370  VON    TURK. 


,  and  made  the  acquaintance  especially,  of  Olivier,  Tillich  and 
I'ohhnann,  then  distinguished  teachers  of  the  day.  In  the  same 
\.-ur,  ho  remained  during  som«-  months,  at  Pestalozzi's  institution  at 
Miinchen-Buchsee,  and  made  himself  acquainted  with  his  views,  and 
with  J.  Schmid's  system  for  geometry  and  mathematics  He  pub- 
lished the  results  of  his  stay  with  Pestalozzi,  in  his  "  Letters  from 
Munchen-Buchsee"  (Leipzig,  1808);  one  of  the  most  practical  and, 
useful  accounts  of  Pestalozzi's  method. 

After  his  return  to  Mecklenburg,  he  could  not  resist  his  impulse  tx> 
become  a  teacher.  He  gathered  together  a  troop  of  boys,  instructed 
them  two  hours  daily  and  made  teachers  acquainted  with  Pestalozzi's 
method.  During  his  educational  journeys  he  had  become  acquainted 
with  the  prince  of  Oldenburg,  and  at  the  end  of  1805.  he  was  ap- 
pointed to  a  lucrative  office  as  Justice  and  Consistory  Councilor  ia 
Oldenburg,  with  an  annual  salary  of  fourteen^hundred  thalers,  (about 
$1050.) 

In  his  new  place  he  experienced  the  same  impulse  to  exertion  as  a 
teacher  and  educator.  Here  also  he  gathered  a  troop  of  boys  whom 
he  instructed  two  hours  a  day  ;  and  he  received  into  his  house  a 
number  of  young  people,  and  gave  them  a  complete  education. 
These  operations  however  did  not  meet  the  approval  of  tli<-  <lukc, 
who  intimated  a  wish  that  he  should  devote  himself  wholly  to  the 
duties  of  his  judicial  station,  and  refused  his  request  to  be  employed 
wholly  in  educational  matters.  This,  together  with  the  condition  of 
Oldenburg  (then  threatened  by  the  French,)  which  caused  him  much 
pecuniary  difficulty,  decided  him  to  resign  his  place  in  Oldenburg  and 
to  give  himself  up  entirely  to  the  business  of  education. 

In  1808,  with  some  pupils,  sons  of  a  Bremen  merchant,  he  went  to 
Pestalozzi  at  Yverdun,  and  for  some  time  instructed  in  that  institution. 
His  work,  "  Perception  by  the  Senses,"  (Die  Sinnlichen  Wahrnehmun- 
gen,)  is  a  fruit  of  his  labors  at  that  time  in  Pestalozzi's  institution. 
But  the  situation  of  affairs  there  was  unfavorable,  and  an  increasing 
difference  soon  grew  up  between  him  and  Pestalozzi.  This  decided 
von  Turk  to  leave  him  and  to  establish  an  educational  institution  of  his 
own  at  the  castle  of  Vevay  on  the  lake  of  Geneva.  Here  he  lived 
amongst  a  small  circle  of  children,  but  happily  progressing  in  knowl- 
edge under  his  love  and  zeal.  The  financial  results  did  not,  however, 
answer  his  expectations,  and  he  finally  in  1814  transferred  the  care 
of  the  school  to  Latour  de  Peilz,  at  his  castle  not  far  from  Vevay. 
Having  offered  his  services  to  the  Prussian  monarchy,  he  was  in  1815- 
appointed  royal  and  school  councilor  at  Frankfort  on  the  Oder. 

The  course  of  inntrnction  which  he  u'av<-  here  in  September  of  1816- 


VON    TURK.  371 

upon  Pestaloz/i's  method,  to  nearly  sixty  clergymen  and  teachers,  had 
upon  many,  who  perhaps,  then  heard  of  Pestalozzi  for  the  first  timer 
an  influence  which  did  not  remain  fruitless.  His  efforts  to  improve 
the  instruction  in  arithmetic,  resulted  in  his  publication  of  his  "  Guide 
to  Instruction  in  Arithmetic"  which  is  yet  one  of  the  best  books  of 
its  class.  Its  fifth  edition  appeared  in  1830.  After  Natorp's  return 
to  his  native  country  in  1817,  von  Turk  was  appointed  School  Coun- 
cilor in  Potsdam,  in  which  station  he  labored  actively  for  sixteen 
years,  but  resigned  it  in  1833  to  devote  his  whole  time  and  powers  to 
the  benevolent  institutions  which  he  had  founded. 

These  are  (not  including  the  Swimming  Institution  at  Potsdam  and 
the  Association  for  the  improvement  of  silk-raising,)  the  following : 

1.  The  Fund  for  School  Teachers'  Widows,  a.  at  Sorau,  6.  for  the 
district  of  Frankfort,  to  which  he  has  devoted  the  profits  of  his  work 
on  Arithmetic ;  and  c.  for  the  district  of  Potsdam. 

In  the  district  of  Frankfort  it  has  since  been  found  better  to  estab- 
lish, instead  of  one  widow's  society  for  the  whole  government,  to  es- 
tablish a  fund  in  each  synod ;  an  arrangement  which  has  in  most 
cases  been  entirely  successful.  In  the  case  of  the  fund  for  the  dis- 
trict of  Potsdam,  the  plainest  conclusions  of  experience  were  unfortu- 
nately so  much  overlooked,  that  after  a  few  years  the  allowancesr 
which  are  raised  only  from  taxation,  were  materially  reduced ;  the 
consequence  of  which  has  lately  been  many  complaints. 

'2.  The  Peace  Society  of  Potsdam,  founded  at  the  Reformation 
I-V-tival  in  1818;  a  society  for  the  support  of  talented  but  poor 
young  men,  who  are  devoted  to  the  arts  or  sciences.  More  than  a 
hundred  such  have  been  supported  by  the  society.  Further  informa- 
tion about  this  society,  and  its  statutes,  may  be  found  in  Guts-Muth's 
"\i-\v  Library  of  Pedagogy." 

3.  The  Civil  Orphan  House — a  twin  child,  as  von  Turk  calls  it,  in 
which  about  thirty  orphan  boys  are  supported.     The  original  fund 
of  this  institution  was  raised  from  the  sale  of  a  collection  of  paintings 
belonging  to  von  Turk.     It  received  an  express  royal  sanction  in  a 
cabinet  order  dated   21st  February,  1825.     Up  to  1841,  thirty-six 
young  men  had  received  their  education  in  this  establishment. 

4.  The  Fund  for  the  Education  and  Support  of  Orphan  Girls ;  an 
institution  which  originated  together  with  the  Civil  Orphan  House, 
and  which  is  managed  in  the  same  way.     Up  to  1841,  twenty  orphan 
girls  had  been  supported  by  it. 

5.  The   Orphan  House  at  Klein- Glienicke  near  Potsdam,  for  the 
orphan  children  of  artizans,  elementary  teachers  and  the  lower  grades, 
of  public  officers. 


372 


VON   TURK. 


It  may  not  be  uninteresting  to  describe  the  precise  circumstances 
which  led  to  the  foundation  of  the  Klein-Glienicke  house.  Von  Turk 
heard  that  the  Crown  Prince  was  desirous  of  buying  the  hunting  seat 
known  as  Klein-Glienicke,  then  occupied  as  a  factory,  in  order  to  im- 
prove it  into  the  counterpart  of  Prince  Carl's  adjacent  beautiful  estate 
in  Glienicke.  Von  Turk  accordingly  quietly  bought  it,  and  offered  it 
to  the  Crown  Prince  at  the  cost  price,  but  received  the  answer  that 
he  would  not  be  able  to  make  use  of  the  offer.  Under  these  circum- 
stances von  Turk  applied  to  his  tried  friend,  Chief  President  von 
Bassewitz,  and  by  his  mediation  gained  permission  to  resign,  his  hasty 
bargain  at  a  small  loss.  He,  however,  made  no  use  of  the  permission, 
but  told  his  friend  that  he  would  retain  the  property,  and  found  there 
another  orphan  house,  to  serve  as  a  sort  of  supplement  to  the  Civil 
Orphan  House,  which  was  intended  for  the  sons  of  persons  of  rather 
higher  rank.  In  fact  he  laid  his  plans  before  some  of  the  higher 
authorities,  but  the  means  which  he  could  show  for  the  establishment 
of  his  intended  institution  were  so  small  that  permission  was  refused 
him.  But  promises  of  support  gradually  came  in,  and  the  heads  of 
several  departments,  especially  Postmaster-general  von  Nagler  and 
the  Ministers  of  Justice  and  of  Finance  declaring  in  its  favor,  on  ac- 
count of  an  arrangement  to  establish  endowed  places  in  it  for  orphans 
of  their  departments,  the  institution  was  finally  set  in  operation. 
The  plans  for  it  were  remodeled  more  than  once,  and  more  than  one 
reckoning  of  the  funds  made  ;  but  at  last,  an  association  being  formed 
which  purchased  the  real  estate  from  von  Turk,  and  there  were  thus 
secured  sufficient  means  to  open  the  establishment  for  those  at  least 
for  whom  endowed  places  had  been  promised.  Von  Turk  never 
lost  his  faith  in  ultimate  success,  though  the  funds  still  remained  de- 
ficient. It  happened  that  the  disposition  of  some  funds  from  a  war- 
Indemnity,  not  accepted  by  those  entitled  to  them,  were  intrusted  to 
the  disposal  of  his  chief,  von  Bassewitz,  who,  with  the  consent  of  the 
families  of  these  proprietors,  appropriated  three  thousand  thalers 
{about  82,250,)  from  this  source  to  the  new  Orphan  House.  Thus 
all  difficulties  were  obviated.  The  association  met,  completed  the 
purchase  of  Klein-Glienicke,  leased  it  to  von  Turk,  who  was  now  able 
to  proceed  with  the  completion  of  his  institution ;  and  had  the  pleas- 
ure of  seeing  it  flourish  under  his  eyes. 

In  a  letter  of  the  present  year,  (1846,)  relating  to  Klein-Glienicke, 
von    Turk    writes,    "  Here,    the    favorite    idea    of    rny    teacher    and 
master,   Pestalozzi,  is  realized;    education,    combined  with  agricul- 
ture and  gardening.     My  scholars  now  number  about  thirty.     I  have 
bout  two  hundred  Magdeburg  morgen,  (the  morgen  is  about  five- 


VON  TURK. 


373 


thirteenths  of  an  acre,)  of  tilled  land,  from  sixteen  to  twenty  morgen 
of  garden  and  nurseries,  twenty-four  morgen  of  meadows,  and  a  dairy 
which  accommodates  twenty  cows  and  five  horses,  besides  sufficient 
room  for  the  silk-making,  except  that  the  latter  is  not  comfortably 
accommodated  in  winter.  I  feel  great  interest  in  encouraging  the 
establishment  of  similar  institutions.  What  has  been  possible  for  me, 
without  financial  resources  and  in  spite  of  the  many  prejudices  with 
which  I  have  had  to  contend,  (for  example,  1  have  been  a  govern- 
ment official ;  and  our  burghers  and  laboring  classes  do  not  love  the 
government  officials;  and  I  have  had  the  little  prefix  'von'  before 
my  name,)  must  be  possible  elsewhere  under  more  favorable  cir- 
cumstances." 

6.  Soup  Distribution  Institution  for  the  Old,  Sick,  Feeble,  and 
Poor,  and  Lying-in-  Women.  By  the  day-book  of  the  institution, 
96.908  portions  of  soup  were  distributed  in  1845.  This  was  received 
by  six  hundred  and  fifty-one  families,  including  four  hundred  and 
forty-one  married  persons,  four  hundred  and  thirty-eight  widows  and 
single  persons,  and  thirteen  hundred  and  forty  children ;  in  all  two 
thousand  two  hundred  and  nineteen  persons.  The  cost  of  one  portion 
of  soup  was  about  3-|-  pfennig,  (about  three-fifths  of  a  cent.) 

For  some  years  von  Turk  had  been  complaining  of  the  decay  of 
his  bodily  strength  and  of  his  memory,  when,  in  1845,  while  he  was 
in  Berlin,  a  dangerous  sickness  seized  him,  from  which  he  has  never 
entirely  recovered.  He  died  July  31,  1846.  His  wife,  two  children 
and  adopted  daughter  were  by  his  side,  and  his  last  hours  were 
peaceful  and  without  pain.  His  memory  will  long  endure. 

On  the  25th  of  the  April  before  his  departure  from  the  world  in 
which  he  had  labored  so  nobly  and  benevolently,  a  letter,  not  with- 
out interest  in  this  connection,  from  which  a  portion  follows.  To  the 
request  that  he  would  communicate  an  autobiography  for  Hergang's 
Encyclopaedia,  he  replies  that  he  is  unable.  **  My  autobiography,'1 
he  says,  "  lies  ready  written  in  my  desk,  but  I  propose  to  publish  it 
for  the  benefit  of  the  Teachers'  orphans.  I  have  established  here  an 
orphan  house,  especially  intended  for  the  orphans  of  teachers ;  but 
their  numbers  and  necessities  in  the  province  of  Brandenburg,  for 
which  the  institution  is  founded,  are  so  great,  that  I  am  oblig-d  to 
refuse  many  applications ;  and  thus  I  am  contriving  the  means  for 
assisting  a  larger  number."  "The  motives  which  have  impelled  me 
to  the  establishment  of  the  institutions  which  I  have  commenced, 
and  the  manner  and  means  by  which,  without  means  of  my  own,  and 
without  the  gift  of  eloquence,  I  have  been  able  to  accomplish  these 
designs,  will  be  related  in  my  biography,  that  others,  more  richly 
endowed,  may  learn  how  to  do  the  like."  "  I  am  in  my  seventy- 


374 


VON    TURK. 


third  year,  on  the  borders  of  the  grave,  in  body  much  broken,  but 
peaceful  and  happy  in  mind,  and  in  all  my  efforts  for  the  improve- 
ment and  elevation  of  my  fellow-citizens,  having  enjoyed  a  success  far 
beyond  my  hopes."  "At  Easter  I  dismissed  from  the  Civil  Orphan 
House,  a  pupil,  son  of  a  country  clergyman,  who  is  now  studying 
theology  in  Berlin.  Several  of  my  scholars  are  already  laboring  as 
preachers,  judges,  physicians,  public  officials,  carpenters,  architects, 
teachers  and  officers."  How  happy  must  we  reckon  thee,  excellent 
man,  who,  while  still  living,  hast  experienced  such  intellectual  and 
heartfelt  pleasure !  Thy  works  follow  thee  into  eternity ;  their 
memory  shall  even  give  thee  ever  increasing  pleasure,  and  many, 
happy  through  thy  means,  shall  bring  thee  thanks. 

Noble  and  venerable  as  von  Turk  was,  he  was  yet  attacked  by  the 
arrows  of  wicked  calumny.  On  this  point  we  shall  only  relate  the 
following : 

Bishop  Eylert  relates  in  his  character  of  Frederic  William  III., 
(vol.  2,)  that  von  Turk  was  suspected  by  that  monarch  of  being  an 
unprincipled  demagogue.  Von  Turk  was  living  amongst  the  com- 
mon people,  as  his  inborn  and  profound  preference  made  it  happiest 
for  him  to  live,  and  laboring  for  their  good  by  his  writings  and  in  his 
official  station,  according  to  his  irresistible  vocation ;  and  some  per- 
sons had  concluded  that  to  be  doing  this  without  apparent  interested 
motives,  and  without  remuneration  for  the  necessary  sacrifices  of  labor, 
means  and  time,  was  enough  to  stamp  von  Turk  a  dangerous  dema- 
gogue. Bishop  Eylert,  who  was  a  friend  of  von  Turk,  undertook  to 
remove  this  impression  from  the  king's  mind.  Having  argued  the 
case,  the  king  said,  "  I  am  glad  to  have  my  former  opinion  corrected, 
and  to  be  able  to  entertain  a  good  opinion  of  one  who  has  certainly 
been  accused  to  me."  At  the  next  festival  of  the  order,  von  Turk 
received  the  red  order  of  nobility ;  the  king  immediately  interested 
himself  in  the  Civil  Orphan  House  at  Potsdam,  and  for  the  institution 
at  Klein-Glienicke,  where  he  endowed  additional  scholarships,  made 
presents  to  the  orphans,  and  continued  to  von  Turk,  at  his  resigna- 
tion of  his  place  as  royal  and  school  councilor,  in  order  to  devote 
himself  wholly  to  his  institutions,  the  whole  amount  of  his  salary  aa 
tension. 


EGBERT  OWEN  AND  FACTORY  POPULATIONS. 


ROBERT  -  OWEN — 1771-1858. 

[ROBERT  OWEN,  whatever  we  may  think  of  him  as  a  reorganize!  of 
human  society,  and  readjuster  of  the  relations  of  capital  and  labor,  de- 
serves a  recognition  among  the  Practical  Educators  of  his  time  as  a  re- 
former of  the  demoralizing  Home  Life  and  Education  of  Factory  Popula- 
tions, and  one  of  the  earliest  to  recognize  the  importanca  of  regulating 
the  plays  and  employments  of  very  young  children,  so  as  to  promote  their 
healthy  development  as  human  beings.  We  copy  the  following  notice  of 
his  life,  and  particularly  of  his  labors  at  New  Lanark  from  his  son's 
(Robert  Dale  Owen)  Autobiography  :] 

EDUCATION   AND  EARLY  BUSINESS   LIFE. 

Robert  Owen,  born  in  Newtown,  North  Wales,  in  1771,  was,  like  my 
grandfather,  a  self-made  man.  His  specific  plans,  as  a  Social  Reformer, 
proved,  on  the  whole  and  for  the  time,  a  failure  ;  and  this,  for  lack  of 
cultivated  judgment  and  critical  research,  and  of  accurate  knowledge 
touching  what  men  had  thought  and  done  before  his  time;  also  because 
he  strangely  overrated  the  ratio  of  human  progress  ;  but  more  especial, 
ly,  perhaps,  because,  until  late  in  life,  he  ignored  the  spiritual  element  in 
man  as  the  great  lever  of  civilized  advancement.  Yet  with  such  earnest- 
ness, such  vigor,  such  indomitable  perseverance,  and  such  devotion  and 
love  for  his  race  did  he  press,  throughout  half  a  century,  these  plans  on 
the  public,  and  so  much  practical  truth  was  there,  mixed  wiih  visionary 
•expectation,  that  his  name  became  known,  and  the  influence  of  his  teach- 
ings Las  been  more  or  less  felt,  over  the  civilized  world.  A  failure  in  gross 
lias  been  attended  by  sterling  incidental  successes  ;  and  toward  the  great 
Idea  of  co-operation — quite  impracticable,  for  the  present  at  least,  in  the 
form  he  conceived  it — there  have  been,  ever  since  his  death,  v^ry  consid- 
erable advances  made,  and  generally  recognized  by  earnest  men  as  emi- 
nently useful  and  important. 

At  the  age  of  ten,  his  travelling  expenses  paid  and  ten  dollars  in  his 
pocket,  Robert  Owen  found  himself  in  London,  whither  he  had  been 
sent  to  the  care  of  an  elder  brother,  to  "  push  his  fortune."  Six  weeks 
afterwards  he  obtained  a  situation  as  shop-boy  with  an  honest,  kind 
Scotchman,  Mr.  James  McGuffog,  a  linen  draper  of  Stamford,  Lincolnshire, 
where  he  remained  four  years  ;  the  first  year  for  board  and  lodging  only  ; 
afterwards  with  a  salary  added,  of  eight  pounds  the  second  year,  and  a 
gradual  increase  thereafter — an  independence  for  the  child,  who  thence- 
forth maintained  himself.  The  labor  was  moderate,  averaging  eight 
hours  a  day.  McGuffog  was  childless  ;  but  he  adopted  a  niece,  two  years 
younger  than  his  Welsh  apprentice  ;  and  between  the  two  children  there 
grew  up  a  warm  friendship.  When  my  father  finally  decided,  at  four- 


376 


PRACTICAL    EDUCATORS  —ROBERT  OWEN. 


teen  years  of  age,  to  return  to  London,  he  and  the  family  parted  with, 
mutual  regrets. 

He  then  became  salesman  in  the  long-established  haberdashery  houee- 
of  Flint  &  Palmer,  on  Old  London  Bridir*'.  There  he  had  twenty-five 
pounds  ti  year,  with  board  and  lodging  ;  but  he  was  occupied  often  till 
one  or  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  arranging  and  replacing  goods,  so  that 
he  was  scarcely  able  to  crawl,  by  aid  of  the  balusters,  up  to  bed.  The 
details  of  the  morning  toilet  I  give  in  his  own  words :  "We  were  up,  had 
breakfast,  and  were  dressed  to  receive  customers  at  eight ;  and  dressing 
then  was  no  slight  affair.  Boy  as  I  was,  I  had  to  wait  my  turn  for  the 
hair-dresser  to  powder  and  pomatum  and  curl  my  hair — two  large  curls  on 
each  side  and  a  stiff  pigtail — and  until  this  was  nicely  done,  no  one 
thought  of  presenting  himself  behind  the  counter." 

He  endured  this  ceremonious  slavery  for  half  a  year ;  then  found 
another,  easier  situation,  and  a  larger  salary,  with  Mr.  Satterfield,  in  Man- 
chester, which  he  kept  for  four  years  and  until  he  was  between  eighteen 
and  nineteen. 

His  life  so  far  had  been  passed  entirely  in  subordinate  positions  ;  in 
which,  however,  he  acquired  habits  of  regulated  industry,  strict  order, 
and  persistent  attention  to  business. 

For  a  few  months  after  this  he  was  in  partnership  with  a  Mr.  Jones, 
manufacturing  cotton  machinery.  While  thus  engaged  he  received  a 
cordial  letter  from  his  former  master,  McGuffog,  now  become  old  and 
wealthy,  with  a  proposal,  if  Owen  would  join  him  in  business,  to  supply 
all  the  capital  and  give  him  half  the  profits  at  once;  and  with  the 
further  intimation  that  he  would  surrender  the  entire  establishment  to 
him  in  a  few  years.  It  appears  that  the  niece  had  conceived  a  childish 
attachment  to  her  playmate,  though  the  object  of  her  affection  did  not 
discover  that  she  had  till  many  years  afterwards  ;  and,  perhaps,  a  knowl- 
edge of  this  may  have  influenced  the  uncle.  "  If  I  had  accepted,"  pays 
my  father  in  his  autobiography,  "  I  should  most  likely  have  married  the 
nieco,  and  lived  and  died  a  rich  Stamford  linen-draper."  Why,  then  only 
nineteen  }  ears  old,  he  refused  an  offer  in  every  way  so  eligible  does  not 
appear.  If,  as  is  probable,  he  then  expected  large  profits  from  his  present 
enterprise, he  soon  discovered  his  mistake — separating  from  his  partner, 
in  whom  he  had  lost  confidence,  after  a  few  months,  and  taking,  as  his. 
share  of  Ptock,  three  mule-machines  only. 

With  these,  however,  he  did  well ;  engaging  three  men  to  work  them 
and  superintending  the  business  himself.  He  bought  roving*  at  twelve 
shillings  a  pound  and  sold  them,  spun  into  thread,  for  twenty-two  shil- 
lings— thus  gaining  two  dollars  on  each  pound  of  yarn  he  turned  out.  At 
these  rates  the  profits  soon  ran  up  to  thirty  dollars  a  week  ;  a  fact  which 
lets  one  into  the  secret  of  the  enormous  fortunes  then  made  in  this 
business. 

Some  months  passed,  when  one  Monday  morning  he  read  an  advertise- 
ment by  a  Mr.  Drinkwater,  a  wealthy  merchant  and  manufacturer,  for  a 
factory  manager.  A  sudden  impulse  induced  him  to  present  himself,  an 
applicant  for  the  place. 

"  You  are  too  young,"  was  Mr.  Drinkwater's  curt  objection. 


PRACTICAL    EDUCATORS — ROBERT  OWEN.  377 

"  They  used  to  object  to  me,"  said  my  father,  "  on  that  score  four  or  fiv 
years  ago ;  but  I  did  not  expect  to  have  it  brought  up  now." 

"  Why,  what  age  are  you  ?" 

"  I  shall  be  twenty  in  May  next." 

"  How  often  do  you  get  drunk  in  the  week  ?" 

My  father  blushed  sea,  let.  "  I  never,"  he  said  indignantly,  "was  drunk 
in  my  life." 

This  seemed  to  produce  a  good  impression.  The  next  question  was : 
•'  Wh:it  salary  do  you  ask  ?" 

"  Three  hundred  a  year  "  (that  is,  three  hundred  pounds ;  as  much  aa 
from  t\vo  to  three  thousand  dollars  to-day). 

"  Three  hundred  a  year!  Why,  I've  had  I  don't  know  how  many  after 
the  place  here,  this  morning ;  and  all  their  askings  together  wouldn't 
come  up  to  what  you  want." 

"  Whatever  others  may  ask,  I  cannot  take  less.  I  am  making  thre& 
hundred  a  year  by  my  own  business." 

"  Can  you  prove  that  to  me  ?  *' 

"  Certainly.     My  books  will  show." 

"  I'll  go  with  you,  and  you  shall  let  me  see  them." 

He  inspected  them,  was  so  far  satisfied;  and  then  my  father  reftrred 
him  to  Satterfield,  McGuffog,  and  Flint  &  Palmer. 

Ten  days  later  Robert  Owen  was  installed  manager  of  what  went  by 
the  name  of  the  "  Bank  Top  Mill."  A  raw  youth,  whose  entire  experi- 
ence in  the  operations  of  cotton-spinning  was  limited  to  the  running  of 
three  mules — who  had  never  entered  a  large  factory  in  his  life — found 
himself  suddenly  at  the  head  of  five  hundred  work  people.  It  might 
conceal  his  first  blunders,  but  in  reality  it  added  to  the  difficulty  of  the 
position,  that  Mr.  Lee,  the  working  partner  and  a  practical  cotton-spinner, 
had  just  formed  another  business  connection  and  deserted  Mr.  Drink  water, 
who,  thouorh  an  experienced  fustian  manufacturer  and  a  successful  im- 
porting merchant, knew  no:hing  practically  of  the  new  manufacture  then 
coming  into  vogue. 

It  was  the  turning  point  in  my  father's  fortunes.  There  is  not,  proba- 
bl1.',  one  young  man  in  a  thousand,  coming  suddenly  to  a  charge  so 
arduous  and  for  which  no  previous  training  had  fitted  him,  who  would 
not  have  miscarried,  and  been  dismissed  ere  a  month  had  passed.  But 
Robert  Owen  had  received  from  nature  rare  administrative  capacity, 
large  human  sympathy,  and  a  winning  way  with  those  he  employed. 
For  six  weeks,  he  tells  us,  he  went  about  the  factory  looking  grave ; 
paying  little,  but  silently  inspecting  everything;  answering  requests  ^or 
instructions  as  laconically  as  possible,  and  giving  no  direct  order  in  all 
that  time  ;  at  night  studying  Mr.  Lee's  notes  and  drawings  of  machinery. 
Then  he  took  the  reins,  and  so  managed  matters  that  in  six  months  there 
was  not,  in  Manchester,  a  more  orderly  or  better  disciplined  factory.  He 
had  gained  the  good-will  of  employer  and  work  people ;  and  had  greatly 
improved  the  quality  and  reputation  of  the  Bank  Top  yarn.  He  had  also 
become  an  excellent  judge  of  cott  n  ;  and,  early  in  1791,  he  bought,  from 
a  Mr.  Robert  Spear,  the  two  first  bags  of  American  Sea  Island  cotton  ever 
imported  into  England. 


378  PRACTICAL    EDUCATORS — ROBERT   OWEN. 

In  the  Spring  of  1797  he  connected  himself  with  two  rich  nn<l  long- 
established  firms,  Borrodaile  &  Atkinson  of  London  and  the  Bartons  of 
Manchester,  under  the  name  of  the  "  Chorlton  Twis-t  Company."  Stum 
after,  business  took  him  to  Scotland;  and  there,  both  as  regards  his 
domestic  life  and  his  future  career,  public  and  private,  he  met  his  fate. 
A  sister  of-  the  Robert  Spear  above  mentioned  happened,  at  that  time,  to 
be  on  a  visit  to  my  grandfather;  and  my  fuller,  walking  near  the  Cross 
of  Glasgow  one  day  met  and  recognized  her.  She  introduced  him  to  a 
young  lady  who  was  with  her,  Miss  Ann  Caroline  Dale,  David  Dah-'s 
eldest  daughter;  and,  turning,  he  walked  with  the  ladies  some  distance. 
Miss  Dale  and  the  young  cotton  spinner  seemed  to  have  been  mutually 
attracted  from  the  first.  She  offered  him  an  introduction  to  her  uncle, 
then  manager  of  her  father's  establishment  at  New  Lanark  ;  suggesting, 
at  die  same  time,  that  the  Falls  of  Clyde,  a  mile  or  two  beyond  the  mill, 
were  well  worth  seeing.  The  offer  was  eagerly  accepted,  and  the  lady 
then  added  that,  when  he  had  made  the  trip,  she  would  be  glad  to  hear 
from  him  how  he  liked  it. 

Of  course  he  called,  on  his  return  to  Glasgow,  to  render  thanks  for  her 
kindness.  Fortune  favored  the  young  people.  Mr.  Dale  was  absent;  the 
morning  was  fine;  a  walk  in  the  "  Green "  (the  park  of  Glasgow)  was 
proposed,  and  my  father  accompanied  Miss  Dale  and  her  sisters  to  the 
banks  of  the  Clyde.  The  young  lady  dropped  a  hint — not  quite  as 
broad  as  Desdemona's — that  they  would  probably  be  walking  there  early 
next  day..  But,  "  on  this  hint  "  my  father,  less  adventurous  than  Othello, 
spake  not.  Rejoined  the  party,  indeed;  but  the  day  after  he  returned  to 
his  snug  bachelor  quarters  at  a  country  house  called  Greenheys,  near 
Manchester. 

The  standing  and  reputation  of  David  Dale  dismayed  him  ;  not  alone 
his  wealth,  his  eminence  as  a  manufacturer,  his  prominence  as  a  popular 
preacher  :md  bounteous  philanthropist,  his  position  as  chief  of  the  two 
directors,  in  the  Glasgow  branch  of  the  Royal  Bank  of  Scotland;  but. 
more  than  these,  his  former  station  as  one  of  the  magistrates  of  Glasgow. 

We  of  America  are  unfavorably  situated,  at  this  day,  to  appreciate  the 
exalted  respect  with  which  the  magistrates  of  Scotland's  chief  cities  were 
then  regarded;  and  which,  to  a  great  extent,  they  have  retained  till  now. 
During  a  week  which  I  spent,  in  1859,  with  Robert  Chambers,  the  well- 
known  author  and  publisher,  at  his  Edinburgh  residence,  I  questioned 
him  closely  as  to  the  manner  in  which  the  municipal  atfiirs  of  the  city 
were  conducted.  His  replies  surprised  mo.  "  I  have  never,"  he  said, 
"heard  even  a  suspicion  whispered,  affecting  the  unblemished  integrity 
of  our  city  magistrates.  There  is  not  a  man  who  would  dare  approach 
one  of  them  with  any  offer  or  suggestion  touching  official  action  inconsist- 
ent with  the  strictest  honor.  He  would  know  that,  if  he  did,  he  might 
expect  to  have  a  servant  rung  for,  and  bidden  to  show  him  into  the  street." 

"  And  the  contracts,"  I  asked,  "  by  the  City  Councils,  as  for  building, 
street  alterations,  and  the  like — how  are  they  managed  ?" 

"  With  better  judgmeir  and  more  economy,  it  is  genera^y  admitted, 
than  the  average  of  contracts  by  private  individuals." 

"  Who  are  these  incorruptible  men  ?     What  are  their  antecedents  ?  " 


PRACTICAL    EDUCATORS — ROBERT  OWEN.  379 

"Usually  gentlemen  who  have  made  large  fortunes  here;  eminent 
in  -rchatits  or  manufacturers,  or  others  who  have  retired,  perhaps,  from 
active  business,  and  who  consider  it  the  crowning  glory  of  their  lives  to 
take  place  among  the  magistracy  of  Edinburgh." 

I  must  have  smiled  sadly,  I  suppose,  for  Chambers  asked  :  "  You  are 
thinking  of  New  York  and  some  others  of  your  own  cities,  with  their 
universal  suffrage  ?" 

"  Yes." 

But  my  father  was  thinking  of  a  Glasgow  magistrate,  such  as  h  -Id 
office  toward  the  close  of  the  last  century ;  and  he  despaired  of  winning 
the  great  man's  daughter. 

[On  the  30th  of  September,  1799,  Miss  Dale  became  Mrs.  Robert  Owen, 
who  had  by  previous  purchase,  in  company  with  his  Manchester  partners, 
become  the  owner  of  the  New  Lanark  Cotton  Mills,  of  which  he  took 
charge  in  January,  1811,  and  in  this  capacity  began  and  effected  great] 
Reforms  in  Factory  Life. 

Robert  Owen's  ruling  passion  was  the  love  of  his  kind,  individually 
and  collectively.  An  old  friend  of  his  said  to  me,  jestingly,  one  day,  when 
I  had  reached  manhood,  "  If  your  good  father  had  seven  thousand 
children,  instead  of  seven,  I  am  sure  he  would  love  them  devotedly." 
But  the  inference  thence  to  be  drawn  is  unfounded.  If  we  were  only 
seven,  he  was  to  every  one  of  us  a  most  affectionate,  even  indulgent, 
parent.  His  organ  of  adhesiveness  could  not  have  been  less  than  that  of 
benevolence  ;  while  the  organs  of  hope  and  self-esteem  were  equally  pre- 
dominant. I  think  that  these  four  sentiments,  together  with  large  order 
and  firmness,  chiefly  governed  his  life  and  shaped  his  destiny. 

My  father  enabled  his  children  to  obtain  many  weapons  which  he  him- 
self never  possessed.  He  had  none  of  the  advantages  of  regulated  study. 
He  did,  indeed,  between  the  ages  of  eight  and  ten,  devour  a  good  many 
volumes ;  among  them  he  himself  enumerates  Robinson  Crusoe,  Quarles 
(including  no  doubt  his  Emblems  and  his  History  of  Samson),  Pilgrim's 
Progress,  Paradise  Lost,  Richardson's  novels,  Harvey's  Meditations, 
Young's  Night  Thoughts,  aud  many  other  religious  books,  chiefly  Meth- 
odist;  but  these  works,  justly  famed  as  some  of  them  are,  must  have 
made  a  strange  jumble  in  an  infant  mind,  left  to  digest  their  contents 
unguided  even  by  a  suggestion,  aud,  as  he  tells  us,  "believing  every 
word  of  them  to  be  true." 

When  I  first  remember  him,  he  read  a  good  deal ;  but  it  was  chiefly 
one  or  two  London  dailies,  with  other  periodicals  as  they  came  out.  He 
was  not,  in  any  true  sense  of  the  word,  a  student.  One  who  made  his 
own  way  in  life,  unheeded  by  a  single  dollar,  from  the  age  of  ten,  could 
not  well  be.  I  never  found,  in  his  extensive  library,  a  book  with  a  mar- 
ginal note,  or  even  a  pencil  mark  of  his,  on  a  single  page.  He  usually 
glanced  over  books,  without  mastering  them;  often  dismissing  them 
with  some  such  curt  remark  as  that  "the  radical  errors  shared  by  all 
men  made  books  of  comparatively  little  value."  Except  statistical  works, 
of  which  his  favorite  was  "  Colquhoun's  Resources  of  the  British 
Empire,"  I  never  renv  mber  to  have  seen  him  occupied  in  taking  notes 
from  anv  book  whatever. 


380  PRACTICAL    EDUCATORS — ROBERT   OWEN. 

In  tliis  way  lie  worked  out  his  problems  for  human  improvement  to. 
great  disadvantage,  missing  a  thousand  things  that  great  minds  had 
thought  and  said  before  his  time,  and  often  mistaking  ideas  that  were 
truly  his  own,  for  novelties  that  no  human  being  had  heretofore  given  to 
the  world. 

Thus  it  happened  that,  while  bringing  prominently  forward  principles 
of  vast  practical  importance  that  had  been  too  much  neglected  both  by 
governments  and  individuals,  he  forfeited,  in  a  measure,  the  confidence  of 
cultivated  men  by  evident  lack  of  familiarity  with  precedent  aut  orities 
on  the  same  subjects,  and  from  inability  to  assiga  to  a  few  favorite 
axioms  their  fitting  place  and  just  relative  importance  in  a  system  of 
reformatory  philosophy. 

But  to  counterbalance  these  disadvantages  he  had  eminent  mental 
qualities  that  worked  for  him,  with  telling  effect,  whenever  he  came  into- 
contact  with  the  masses,  either  as  employer,  in  the  early  days  of  which  I 
am  now  writing,  or,  later  in  life,  as  a  public  teacher.  The  earnestness  of 
his  convictions— all  the  stronger  for  imagining  old  ideas  to  be  original — 
amounted  to  enthusiasm.  I  do  not  think  that  Napoleon  was  more  untir- 
ing in  his  perseverance,  or  that  Swedenborg  had  a  more  implicit  con- 
fidence in  himself;  and  to  this  was  joined  a  temperament  so  sanguine 
that  he  was  unable — no  matter  what  rebuffs  he  met  with — unable,  even 
as  an  octogenarian,  to  conceive  the  possibility  of  ultimate  failure  in  his 
plans.  During  the  afternoon  immediately  preceding  his  death  he  was 
arranging,  with  the  rector  of  the  parish,  for  a  series  of  public  meetings 
(at  which  he  promised  to  speak),  looking  to  an  organization  that  should 
secure  to  every  child  in  and  near  his  native  town  the  best  education 
which  modern  lights  and  knowledge  could  supply. 

But  I  am  speaking  now  of  a  period  more  than  half  a  century  past, 
when  he  was  in  the  vigor  of  early  manhood.  At  that  time  his  two  lead- 
ing ideas  of  reform  were  temperance  and  popular  instruction. 

No  grog-shops,  indeed,  were  permitted  in  the  village,  but  liquor  was 
obtained  in  the  o'd  town.  Robert  Owen,  acting  on  his  belief  in  the 
efficacy  of  circumstances,  soon  wrought  a  radical  change.  He  had  village 
watchmen,  who  patrolled  the  streets  at  night,  and  who  were  instructed  to 
take  down  the  name  of  every  man  found  drunk.  The  inebriate  was  fined 
so  much  for  the  first  offence,  a  largef  sum  for  the  second,  the  fines  being 
deducted  from  his  wag.js;  and  the  th  rd  offence  resulted  in  dismissal,, 
sometimes  postponed  if  he  showed  sincere  repentance.  Then  the  people 
were  so  justly  and  kindly  treated,  their  wages  were  so  liberal,  and  their 
hours  of  labor  so  much  shorter  than  the  average  factory  hours  through- 
out Great  Britain,  that  dismissal  was  felt  to  be  a  misfortune  not  to  be 
lightly  incurred. 

The  degree  to  which,  after  eight  or  ten  years  of  such  discipline,  in- 
temperance was  weeded  out  in  New  Lanark  may  be  judged  by  the  follow- 
ing incident. 

I  was  in  the  habit  of  going  to  "  The  Mills,"  as  we  called  them,  almost 
daily.  One  day,  in  my  twelfth  year,  when  I  had  accompanied  my  father 
on  his  usual  morning  visit,  and  we  had  reached  a  sidewalk  which  con- 
ducted from  our  porter's  1  •dof  to  the  main  street  of  the  village,  IL 


PRACTICAL    EDUCATO^C — ROBERT    OWEX.  381 

•observed,  at  a  little  distance  on  the  path  before  us,  a  man  who  stopped  at 
intervals  in  his  walk,  and  staggered  from  side  to  side. 

"  I  apa,"  said  I,  "  look  at  that  man.  He  must  have  been  taken  sud- 
denly ill." 

"  What  do  you  suppose  is  the  matter  with  him,  Robert  ?" 

"  I  don't  know.  I  never  saw  any  man  act  so.  Is  he  subject  to  fits  ?  Do 
you  know  him,  papa  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  I  know  him.  He  is  not  subject  to  fits,  but  he  is  a  very 
unfortunate  man."  "  What  kind  of  illness  has  he  ?" 

My  father  stopped,  looked  first  at  the  man  before  us,  and  then  at  me. 
**  Thank  3rod,  my  son,  "  he  said,  at  last,  "  that  you  have  never  before  seen 
a  drunken  man." 

Robert  Owen's  predominant  love  of  order  brought  about  another 
important  reform.  Elizabeth  Hamilton,  who  spent  several  years  as  gov- 
erness in  a  Scottish  nobleman's  family,  has  well  described,  in  her  Cot- 
tagers of  Grlenburnie,  the  careless  untidiness  and  slatternly  habits  which, 
at  the  commencement  of  the  present  century,  characterized  the  peasantry 
of  Scotland.  "  I  canna'  be  fashed  "  was  the  usual  reply,  if  any  one  sug- 
gested that  cleanliness,  among  the  virtues,  should  rank  next  to  godliness. 

A  writer,  whose  parents  settled  as  workers  in  the  New  Lanark  mills  as 
early  as  1803,  states  that  in  those  days  each  family  had  but  a  single  apart- 
ment, the  houses  being  of  one  story  only ;  and  that  before  each  door  it 
was  not  unusual  to  find  a  dung-hill.  He  tells  us,  also,  that  one  of  Robert 
Owen's  first  reforms  was  to  add  an  additional  s:ory  to  every  lions 3,  giving 
two  rooms  to  most  of  the  families  ;  and  that  the  dung-hills  were  carried 
off  to  an  adjoining  farm,  and  a  renewal  of  the  nuisance  was  imperatively 
forbidden. 

As  I  recollect  the  village,  its  streets,  daily  swept  at  the  expense  of  the 
company,  were  kept  scrupulously  clean ;  and  its  tidy  appearance  in  every 
respect  was  the  admiration  of  strangers. 

A  reform  of  a  more  delicate  character,  upon  which  my  father  ventured, 
met  serious  opposition.  After  each  family  became  possessed  of  adequate 
accommodations,  most  of  them  still  maintained  in  their  interior  disorder 
and  uncleaniness.  My  father's  earnest  recommendations  on  the  subject 
passed  unheeded.  He  then  called  the  work  people  together,  and  gave 
several  lectures  upon  order  and  cleanliness  as  among  the  Christian 
virtues.  His  audience  lizard,  applauded,  and  went  home  content  "  to 
do  as  weel  as  their  forbears,  and  no  to  heed  English  clivers." 

Thereupon  my  father  went  a  step  further.  He  called  a  general  meet- 
ing of  the  villagers  ;  and,  at  his  suggestion,  a  committee  from  among 
themselves  was  appointed,  whose  duty  it  was  to  visit  each  family  weekly, 
and  report  in  writing  upon  the  condition  of  the  house.  This,  according 
to  the  statement  of  the  author  last  quoted,  while  grumblingly  acquiesced 
in  by  the  men,  was  received  "  with  a  storm  of  rage  and  opposition  by  the 
women."  They  had  paid  their  rent,  and  did  no  harm  to  the  house  ;  and 
it  was  nobody's  business  but  their  own  whether  it  was  clean  or  dirty.  If 
they  had  read  Romeo  and  Juliet,  which  is  not  likely,  I  dare  say  they 
would  have  greeted  the  intruders  as  the  Xurse  did  her  prying  ma'ster — 

"  <^°,  you  cotquean,  co; 
G  t  y  u  I    ' 


382  PRACTICAL    EDUCATORS — RO3ELT  OV»~i;X. 

As  it  was,  while  a  few,  fresh  from  mop  and  scrubbing-brush,  received 
the  committee  civilly,  a  large  majority  either  locked  their  doors  or  met 
the  inquisitors  with  abuse,  calling  them  "  bug-hunters "  and  other 
equally  flattering  names. 

My  father  took  it  quietly;  showed  no  anger  toward  the  dissenters; 
encouraged  the  committee  to  persevere,  but  instructed  them  to  ask  admit- 
tance as  a  favor  only  ;  and  allowed  the  small  minority,  who  had  welcomed 
these  domiciliary  visits,  to  have  a  few  plants  each  from  his  green-house. 
This  gratuity  worked  wonders  ;  conciliation  of  manner  gradually  over- 
came the  first  jealousy  of  intrusion  ;  and  a  few  friendly  visits  by  my 
mother,  quietly  paid  to  those  who  were  especially  tidy  in  their  house 
holds,  still  further  quelled  the  opposition.  Gradually  the  weekly  reports 
of  the  committee  became  more  and  more  favorable. 

Within  the  mills  everything  was  punctiliously  "kept.  Whenever  I 
visited  them  with  my  father,  I  observed  that  he  picked  up  the  smallest 
flocks  of  cotton  from  the  floor,  handing  them  to  some  child  near  by,  to  be 
put  in  his  waste-bag. 

"Papa,"  said  I  one  day,  "  what  does  it  signify — uicli  a  little  speck  of 
cotton  ?  " ' 

"  The  value  of  the  cotton,"  he  replied,  "is  nothing,  but  the  example  is 
much.  It  is  very  important  that  these  people  should  acquire  strict 
habits  of  order  and  economy." 

In  working  out  these  and  other  reforms,  my  father,  a  scrupulous 
respecter  of  the  rights  of  conscience  and  of  entire  freedom  of  opinion, 
never  exercised,  except  in  the  case  of  habitual  drunkards,  the  power  of 
dismissal  which  his  office  as  sole  manager  placed  in  his  hands.  The 
writer  already  quoted,  who  spent  his  youth  and  early  manhood  at  New 
Lanark,  bears  testimony  to  this.  "I  never  knew,"  he  says,  "of  a  single 
instance  in  which  Mr.  Owen  dismissed  a  worker  for  having  manfully  and 
conscientiously  objected  to  his  measures." 

School  Reforms. 

The  New  Lanark  schools,  and  the  cause  of  education  generally,  were  the 
subjects  which,  at  this  period  of  my  father's  life,  chiefly  engrossed  his 
attention.  His  first  appearance  as  a  speaker  was  as  president  at  a  public 
dinner,  given  in  the  city  of  Glasgow  in  1812,  to  Joseph  Lancaster,  the 
well-known  educational  reformer.  In  the  character  of  this  gentleman,  a 
Quaker,  there  was  a  strange  mixture  of  honest,  self-sacrificing  zeal,  and 
imprudent,  self-indulgent  ostentation.  As  early  as  1789  he  labored  stoutly 
among  the  poor  of  South wark,  teaching  a  school  of  three  hundred  out- 
cast children  for  years  almost  gratuitously.  When  his  system  finally 
attracted  attention,  and  subscriptions  poured  in  upon  him,  prosperity 
called  forth  weaknesses,  and  he  squandered  the  money  given  for  better 
purposes.  I  recollect  that  he  drove  up  one  afternoon,  on  invitation  of 
my  father,  to.  Braxfield  House,  with  four  horses  to  his  post-chaise— a 
luxury  in  which  I  never  knew  my  father  to  indulge. 

When,  somewhat  later,  my  father  gave  five  thousand  dollars  to  aid  in 
the  general  introduction  of  the  Lancaster  system  of  instruction,  I  re- 
member that  my  mother,  adverting  to  the  four  horses,  demurred  to  the 


PRACTICAL    EDUCATORS — ROBERT   OWEN.  383; 

wisdom  of  so  munificent  a  subscription.  And  I  think  that,  in  view  of 
Lancaster's  prodigality,  she  was  in  the  right. 

This  Lancastrian  system — one  of  mutual  instruction,  with  monitors, 
selected  from  the  pupils,  as  sub-teachers — was  equally  economical  and 
superficial.  It  had  its  good  points,  however,  and  could  be  maintained 
where  the  funds  were  insufficient  for  anything  better.  My  father,, 
enthusiastic  at  first  in  its  favor,  gradually  changed  it  for  something  more 
thorough  and  effective. 

In  the  speech  which  Robert  Owen  made  at  the  Lancaster  dinner,  the 
views  which  he  afterwards  elaborated  touching  the  formation  of  charac- 
ter first  peeped  out.  "  General  differences,"  he  said,  "  bodily  and  mental,, 
between  inhabitants  of  various  regions,  are  not  inherent  in  our  nature, 
nor  do  they  arise  from  the  respective  soils  on  which  we  are  born ;  they 
are  wholly  and  solely  the  effect  of  education."  While  it  is  difficult  to- 
exaggerate  the  importance  of  education,  in  the  extended  sense  of  the 
term,  this  proposition  is  clearly  extravagant,  ignoring  as  it  does  the 
influences,  often  dominant,  of  race,  climate,  soil,  whether  fertile  or  barren,, 
and  hereditary  qualities  transmitted  through  successive  generations.  But 
the  speech  was  applauded  to  the  echo,  and  called  forth  from  a  certain 
Kirkman  Finlay — then  the  great  man  of  Glasgow — a  laudatory  letter. 

"  This  induced  me,"  says  my  father  in  his  Autobiography,  "  to  write  my 
four  Essays  on  the  Formation  of  Character." 

As  early  as  1809  my  father  had  laid  the  foundations  of  a  large  building,, 
afterwards  called  "  The  New  Institution/'  designed  to  accommodate  all 
the  children  of  the  village.  But  the  estimated  cost,  upwards  of  twenty 
thousand  dollars,  alarmed  his  partners,  who  finally  vetoed  the  enterprise. 

My  father  was  [with  new  partners]  free  to  carry  out  his  \  lans  of  educa- 
tion. He  gradually  completed  and  fitted  up,  at  a  cost  of  between  thirty 
and  forty  thousand  dollars,  the  spacious  school-house,  the  building  of 
which  his  former  partners  had  arrested.  It  had  five  large  rooms  or  halls, 
besides  smaller  apartments,  and  a  bath-room  on  an  extensive  scale,  suf- 
ficing for  the  accommodation  of  from  four  to  five  hundred  children.  No- 
charge  whatever  was  made ;  and  not  only  all  the  children  of  the  work 
people,  but  also  children  of  all  families  living  within  a  mile  of  the 
village,  were  thus  gratuitously  instructed. 

Infant  8c7iool8—lSl5. 

In  this  institution  a  novel  feature  was  introduced.  Pestalozzi  and 
Oberlin  have  each  been  spoken  of  as  originating  the  infant  school  system; 
but  my  father  seems  to  have  been  its  true  founder.  I  have  found  no 
proof  whatever  that  either  of  them  even  thought  of  doing  what  he 
carried  out.*  He  brought  together  upwards  of  a  hundred  children,  from 
one  to  six  years  of  age,  under  two  guardians,  James  Buchanan  and  Mary 
Young.  No  attempt  was  made  to  teach  them  reading  or  writing,  not  even 
their  letters ;  nor  had  they  any  set  lessons  at  all.  Much  of  their  time 
was  spent  in  a  spacious  play  ground.  They  were  trained  to  habits  of 
order  and  cleanliness ;  they  were  taught  to  abstain  from  quarrels,  to  be 
kind  to  »ach  other.  They  were  amused  with  childish  games  and  with 

*  Sue  Bar  mrd'n  National  Education.    III.    Great  Br  fa'".    Infant  Sc»  oo's. 


381 


PRACTICAL    EDUCATORS — EGBERT   o\Vi:.N. 


stories  suited  to  their  capacity.  Two  large,  airy  rooms  were  set  apart, 
one  for  those  under  four  years  and  one  for  those  from  four  to  six.  This 
last  room  was  furnished  with  paintings,  chiefly  of  animals,  and  a  few 
maps.  It  was  also  supplied  with  natural  objects  from  the  gardens,  fit-Ids. 
and  woods.  These  suggested  themes  for  conversation,  or  brief,  familiar 
lectures;  but  there  was  nothing  formal,  no  tasks  to  be  learned,  no  read- 
ings from  books.  "  When  the  best  means  of  instruction  are  known  and 
adopted,"  says  my  father  in  his  Autobiography, "  I  doubt  whether  books 
will  be  used  until  children  attain  their  tenth  year."  But  this  he  cmild 
not  carry  out  at  New  Lanark,  as  the  children  were  admitted  to  the  mills 
and  were  usually  sent  tuither  by  their  parents,  at  twelve  years  of  age. 

No  corporal  punishment,  nor  threat,  nor  violent  language  was  permitted 
on  the  part  of  the  teachers.  They  were  required  to  treat  the  children 
with  the  same  kindness  which  they  exacted  from  them  toward  each  other. 

Some  years  later  an  attempt  was  made  by  a  London  association,  headed 
by  the  Marquis  of  Lansdowne  and  Lord  Brougham,  to  introduce  infant 
schools  into  the  British  metropolis.  They  obtained  a  teacher  from  New 
Lanark.  But  they  undertook  to  do  too  much,  and  so  failed  in  their 
object.  They  had  lessons,  tasks,  study.  Not  satisfied  with  moral  training 
and  instructive  amusement,  as  at  New  Lanark,  they  sought  prema- 
turely to  develop  the  intellectual  powers.  The  tender  brain  of  the  infant 
was  over-excited ;  more  harm  than  good  was  done ;  and  the  system  fell, 
in  a  measure,  into  disrepute,  until  Fru-lx-l,  in  his  Kinder</<irttns,  brought 
things  back  to  a  more  rational  way. 

1  visited  our  village  infant  school  almost  daily  for  years  :  and  I  have 
never,  either  before  or  since,  seen  such  a  collection  of  bright,  clean,  good- 
tempered,  happy  little  faces. 

Limitation  of  Hours  of  Labor  for  Children.* 

At  a  meeting  which  he  had  previously  held  at  the  Tontine,  Glasgow,  he 
had  introduced  two  resolutions  recommending  petitions  to  Parliament- 
one  for  the  remission  of  the  duty  on  imported  cotton;  the  oiher  for  tin- 
protection  of  factory  children  from  labor  beyond  their  strength.  The 
first  passed  unanimously ;  the  second  was  lost  by  an  overwhelming 
majority.  Thereupon  my  father  determined  to  agitate  the  matter  himself. 

As  a  preliminary  measure  wo  visited  all  the  chief  factories  in  (iivat 
Britain.  The  facts  we  collected  seemed  to  me  terrible  almost  beyond 
belief.  Not  in  exceptional  cases,  but  as  a  general  rule,  we  found  children 
of  ten  .'/>•')'*  »W  imrkcil  r>  gnbt  rl>i  f<»i  rt«,t  l.mr*  <i  tl.iy,  with  but  half  an 
hour's  interval  for  the  mid-day  meal,  which  \vas  ratrn  in  the  factory.  In 
tin-  fine  yarn  cotton  mills  (producing  from  a  hundred  and  twenty  to  three 
hundred  hanks  to  the  pound),  they  were  subjected  to  this  labor  in  a  tem- 
perature usually  exceeding  seventy-five  degrees  ;  and  in  all  the  cotton 
factories  they  breathed  an  atmosphere  more  or  less  injurious  to  the  lungs, 
because  of  the  dust  and  minute  cotton  fibres  that  pervaded  it. 

In  some  cases  we  found  that  greed  of  gain  had  impelled  the  mill-owners 

*  P  T  History  of  the  Legislation  of  different  countries  to  protect  children  fr-ra  ex- 
ri--iv!  labor  both  in  t:rae  and  in  kind  of  work,  si-e  Birnard's  Legal  Provision  J!t 
in?    the    Education    and  Employment  of    ChUdren  in   factories.      1842.      K 
<di'i..n.     1876. 


PRACTICAL    EDUCATORS — ROBERT   OWEN.  385 

t -i  r-till  greater  extremes  of  inhumanity,  utterly  disgraceful,  indeed,  to  a 
civili/ed  nation.  Their  mills  were  run  fifteen  and,  in  exceptional  cases, 
<>urs  a  day  with  a  single  set  of  hands;  and  they  did  not  scruple 
to  employ  children  of  both  sexes  from  the  age  of  eight.  We  actually 
found  a  c  msiderable  number  under  that  age. 

It  need  not  bo  sa  d  that  such  a  system  could  not  be  maintained  without 
corporal  punishment.  Most  of  the  overseers  openly  carried  stout  leather 
thongs,  and  we  frequently  saw  even  the  youngest  children  severely 
beaten. 

We  sought  out  the  surgeons  who  were  in  the  habit  of  attending  these 
children,  noting  their  names  and  the  facts  to  which  they  testified.  Their 
.-•tories  h:iunted  my  dreams.  In  some  large  factories,  from  one-fourth  to 
Din- fifth  of  the  children  were  either  cripples  or  otherwise  deformed,  or 
p  •rmuneii'ly  injured  by  excessive  toil,  sometimes  by  brutal  abuse.  The 
y  >;mger  children  seldom  held  out  more  than  three  or  four  years  without 
severe  illness,  often  ending  in  death. 

When  we  expressed  surprise  that  parents  should  voluntarily  condemn 
their  sons  and  daughters  to  slavery  so  intolerable,  tiie  explanation  seemed 
:o  bo  that  many  of  the  fathers  were  out  of  work  themselves,  and  so  were 
i;:  u  measure  driven  to  the  sacrifice  for  lack  of  bread;  while  others, 
imbtMti'd  by  intemperance,  saw  with  indifference  an  abuse  of  the  infant 
faculties  compared  to  which  the  infanticide  of  China  may  almost  be 
termed  humane. 

In  London  my  father  laid  before  several  members  of  Parliament  the 
muss  of  evidence  he  had  collected,  and  a  bill  which  he  had  prepared,  for- 
iing  the  employment  in  factories  of  child-workers  under  twelve  years 
<>f  uge,  and    fixing  the  hours  ihey   might  be  employed  at   ten  a  day. 
Finally  he  obtained  from  the  elder  Sir  Robert  Peel  (father  of  the  well- 
known  Prime  Minister,  and  then  between  sixty  and  seventy  years  old),  a 
promise  to  introduce  this  humane  measure  into  the  House  of  Commons. 
Sir  Robert,  then  one  of  the  r.chest  cotton-spinners  in  the  kingdom,  and  a 
iiber  of  twenty-five  years'  standing,  possessed  considerable  influence. 
i    he  exerted  it  heartily,  I  think  (and  my  father  thought)  that  the 
measure  might  have  been  carried  the  first  session.     But,  in  several  inter- 
vi  -\vs  with  him  to  which  I  accompanied  my  father,  even  my  inexperience 
a  slackness  of  purpose  and  an  indisposition  to  offend  his  fellow 
;;ifacturers,  who  were  almost  all  violently  opposed  to  the  measure.     I 
think  it   probable  that  his  hesitation  was  mainly  due  to  a  conscioi: 

it  ill  became  him  to  denounce  cruelties,  in  causing  which  he  had 
himself  had  a  pr.miineut  share.  The  bill  dragged  through  the  House  for 
four  sessions ;  and  when  passed  at  last,  it  was  in  a  mutilated  and  compar- 
atively valueless  form. 

Pending  its  discussion  I  frequently  attended  with  my  fatherthe  sessions 

<>f  a  committee  of  the  House  appointed  to  collect  evidence  and  report  on 

the  condition  of  factory  children.     He  was  a  chief  witness,  and  one  day 

had  to  >; and  (and  did  stand  unmoved)  a  bitter  cross-examination  by  Sir 

''hilips,  a  "cotton  lord."  as  the  millionaires  among  mill  owners 

trere  then  popularly  called.     This  oppressor  of  childhood  questioned  my 
ither  as  to  his  religious  opinions,  and  other  personal  matters  equally 


366  PRACTICAL    EDUCATORS— ROBERT  OWEN. 

irrelevant,  in  a  tone  so  insolent,  that,  to  my  utter  shame,  I  could  not 
repress  my  tears.  They  were  arrested,  however,  when  Lord  Brougham 
(then  plain  Henry)  called  the  offender  to  order,  and  a'ter  commenting,  in 
terms  that  were  caustic  to  my  h  art's  content,  on  the  impertinent  charac- 
ter of  Sir  George's  cross-examination,  moved  that  it  be  expunged  from  the 
records  of  the  committee — a  motion  which  was  carried  without  a  dissent- 
ing voice. 

Throughout  the  four  years  during  which  this  reformatory  measure  was- 
in  progress,  my  father  (in  truth  the  soul  of  the  movement)  was  unremit- 
ting in  his  endeavors  to  bring  the  evidence  he  had  obtained  before  the 
public.  The  periodical  press  aided  him  in  this  ;  an!  I  remember  that  one 
touching  story  in  particular  had  a  wide  circulation.  It  came  out  in 
evidence  given  before  the  committee  by  an  assistant  overseer  of  the  poor. 
He  was  called  upon  to  relieve  a  father  out  of  employment,  and  found  his 
only  child,  a  factory  girl,  quite  ill ;  and  he  testifies  further  as  follows : 
"  Some  time  after,  the  father  came  to  me  with  tears  in  his  eyes.  '  What's- ' 
the  matter,  Thomas  ? '  I  asked.  He  said, '  My  little  girl  is  gone  ;  she  died 
in  the  night ;  and  what  breaks  my  heart  is  this — though  she  was  not  able 
to  do  her  work,  I  had  to  let  her  go  to  the  mill  yesterday  morning.  She 
promised  to  pay  a  little  boy  a  half-penny  on  Saturday,  if  he  would  help 
her  so  she  could  rest  a  little.  I  told  her  he  should  have  a  penny.'  At 
night  the  child  could  not  walk  home,  fell  several  times  by  the  way,  and 
had  to  be  carried  at  last  to  her  father's  house  by  her  companions.  She 
never  spoke  intelligibly  afterwards.  She  was  ten  years  old." 

Industrial  Element — Diversions — Military  Drill. 

My  father  sought  to  make  education  as  practical  as  possible.  The  girls. 
were  taught  sewing  and  knitting,  and  both  sexes,  in  the  upper  classes, 
besides  geography  and  natural  history,  had  simple  lessons  in  drawing. 
Yet  it  was  not  the  graver  studies  that  chiefly  interested  and  pleased  our 
numerous  visitors ;  the  dancing  and  music  lessons  formed  the  chief  at- 
traction. The  juvenile  performers  were  dressed  alike,  all  in  tartan,  the 
boys  wearing  the  Highland  kilt  and  hose.  Carefully  instructed  in  the 
dances  then  in  vogue,  as  a  lesson,  not  as  a  performance,  they  went 
through  their  reels  and  quadrilles  with  an  ease  and  grace  that  would  not 
have  shamed  a  fashionable  ball  room,  coupled  with  a  simplicity  and  un- 
consciousness natural  to  children  when  they  are  not  spoiled,  but  which  in 
higher  circles  is  often  sadly  lacking. 

The  class  for  vocal  music  numbered,  at  one  time,  a  hundred  and  fifty 
and  under  a  well-qualified  teacher  they  made  wonderful  progress.  I 
selected,  and  had  printed  for  them,  on  a  succession  of  pasteboard  sheets,, 
a  collection  of  simple  airs,  chiefly  national  Scottish  melodies,  which  th«jy 
rendered  with  a  homely  pathos  scarcely  attainable,  perhaps,  except  by 
those  who  are  "  to  the  manner  born." 

Another  feature  in  our  schools  which  proved  very  popular  with  visitors 
was  the  military  training  of  the  older  children.  Drilled  by  a  superan- 
nuated soldier  whom  my  father  had  hired  for  the  purpose,  and  preceded 
by  a  boy -band  of  a  drum  or  two  and  four  or  five  fifes,  they  made  a  VPTV 
creditable  appearance. 


INTUITIONS  IN  OBJKCT  TEACHING. 


SUITABLE  TO  THE  KINDERGARTEN   PERIOD.* 

DIESTERWEG,  in  answer  to  the  questions  of  his  pupils,  "What  are  th?.- 
intuitions  that  shall  be  addressed  V':  "What  shall  we  awaken?"  "  Out  of 
what  fields?"  "Whence  shall  we  take  them?" — gave  the  following  beau- 
tiful resume. 

1 4  Let  us  look  at  the  different  kinds  of  intuit  ions — let  us  enumerate  t  hem. 

1.  Sensuous  intuitions — not  given  merely  mediately  through  the  senses, 

but  immediately  or  directly — outward  objects. 

2.  Mathematical  intuitions — representations  of  space,  time,  number,  and 

motion,  also  belonging  to  the  outward  world  and  not  directly  given 
by  the  senses,  but  mediately  through  them. 

3.  Moral  intuitions — The  phenomena  of  virtuous  life  in  man. 

4.  Religious  intuitions,  oiiginating  in  man  whose  sentiments  relate  him  to 

God. 

5.  ^Esthetic  intuitions, — from  the  beautiful  and  sublime  phenomena  in 

nature  and  human  life  (artistic  representations). 

6.  Purely  human  intuitions,  which  relate  to  the  noble  mutual  relations  of 

man  in  love,  faith,  friendship,  etc. 

Social  intuitions,  which  comprise  the  unifying  of  men  in  the  great 
whole  in  corporations,  in  communities,  and  State  life.  The  school 
cannot  offer  all  these  subjects  of  intuition  according  to  their  differ- 
ent natures  and  their  origin;  for  the  school  will  not  take  the  place- 
of  life;  it  only  supposes  them,  connects  itself  with  them,  and  refers 
to  them,  it  points  them  out  in  all  their  compass,  occupies  itself  with 
them,  and  builds  up  with  them  on  all  sides  the  foundation  of  intel 
ligence. 

The  sensuous  intuitions  relate  to  the  corporeal  world  and  the  changes  in 
it.  The  pupil  must  see  with  his  own  eyes,  as  much  as  possible,  must  hear 
with  his  own  ears,  use  all  his  senses,  seek  the  sensuous  tokens  of  things  in 
their  phenomena  upon,  under,  and  above  the  ground,  in  minerals,  plants, 
animals,  men  and  their  works,  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  physical  phe- 
nomena, etc. 

The  mathematical  intuitions  are  developed  out  of  the  sensuous,  by  easy 
abstractions  lying  near  at  hand, — the  representations  of  the  expansion  of 
sp;irc  compared  one  with  another,  those  of  time  in  succession,  the  repre- 
sentations of  number — the  how  much — the  ever-moving  representations 
of  change  in  space,  and  the  progression  of  the  same.  The  simplest  of 
these  representations  are  those  of  space;  the  rest  become  objects  of  intui- 
tion by  means  of  these,  by  points,  lines,  and  surfaces.  In  arithmetic,  for 
instance,  points,  lines,  and  their  parts,  bodies  and  their  parts  are  the  ma- 
terial of  intuitions. 

The  moral  intuitions  come  to  tho  pupil  through  man,  through  his  iife 
with  his  relatives,  as  in  the  school  through  schoolmates  and  teachers. 
These  are  naturally  inward  intuitions  which  embody  themselves  in  the 

*Taken  from  Chapter  on  Auschauungsunterricht  (•'  Intuitional1'  or  "Object  Teaching") 
in  the  edition  of  Die  Wegweiser  fiir  Deut»cfie  Lehrer,  issued  by  Diesfenveg's  friends 
after  his  death  in  numbers  from  1873  to  1879.  The  Chapter  entire  will  be  found  ii:-> 
Barnard's  Journal  of  Education  for  1880,  p.  417. 


388  INTUITIONAL  OR  OBJECT  TEACHING. 

expression  of  the  countenance,  in  the  eye,  in  the  speech.  The  pupil's  own 
experience  is  the  chief  thing  here  as  elsewhere.  Happy  the  child  thai  i< 
surrounded  by  thoroughly  moral,  pure  men,  whose  manifestations  lay  in 
him  the  moral  foundation  of  life.  The  moral  facts  of  history  are  pointed 
out  to  him  by  the  teacher  from  his  own  intuition,  in  H  living  manner  by 
means  of  the'  living  word,  the  eloquent  lips,  and  die  feeling  heart. 

To  religion*  intuitions  the  child  comes  through  ilie  eoLtempiation  of  r.u- 
ture,  its  phenomena  and  beneficent  workings,  through  the  piety  of  /,/* 
parents,  the  commands  of  the  lather  and  mother,  through  contemplating 
the  community  in  the  house  of  worship,  through  religious  songs  in  the 
school,  through  religious  instruction  and  confirmation  in  school  and 
church,  through  religious-minded  teachers  and  pastors,  biblical  stories,  etc. 

^Esthetic  intuitions  are  awakened  by  the  sight  of  beautiful  and  sublime 
objects  of  nature  (flowers,  trees,  stars,  crystals,  sky,  and  sea,  rocky  moun- 
tains, landscapes,  storms,  thunder-showers,  etc.),  and  the  real  objects  of 
ait,  pictures  and  picture-galleries,  statues,  gardens,  poetical  products,  and 
human  speech.  We  can  classify  their  specific  differences,  calling  them 
moral,  aesthetic,  etc.,  but  I  hold  it  better  to  place  them  in  one  category. 
The  strong  moral  law  equally  binding  upon  all  men,  this  field  of  view 
does  not  include,  for  its  contents  cannot  be  unconditionally  required. 
That  belongs  to  the  free,  beautifully  human  development,  which  is  de 
pendent  upon  conditions  that  are  not  attainable  by  every  one. 

The  so-called  purely  human  intuitions  are  related  to  the  nobly  formed 
human  lives  of  individual  men  whose  characters  (Inhalt)  proceed  from  the 
strongest  conceptions  of  morality  and  duty,  from  sympathetic  affections, 
friendship,  and  love,  compassion,  and  loving  fellowship,  and  other  shining 
phenomena  of  exalted  human  life  as  they  arc  met  with  in  the  more  refined 
development  and  culture  of  lofty  and  pure  men.  Happy  is  the  child  who 
is  in  their  sphere!  If  the  home  offers  nothing  in  this  respect,  it  is  difficult 
to  supply  the  want.  Let  the  teacher  do  what  is  possible  by  the  hold  he 
ha*  upon  the  school  and  by  all  his  own  manifestations. 

The  AMsfai  intuitions,  that  is  the  social  circumstances  of  men  in  a  large 
sense  are  determined  for  the  child  by  the  manifestations  of  the  community 
in  the  schools,  in  the  churches,  in  the  assemblies  of  the  people,  in  public 
festivals,  and  especially  in  .-lories  in  which  the  teacher,  by  his  living 
in-ight  into  states,  nations,  and  warlike  communities,  defines  to  the 
scholar  the  best  living  representations  of  great  deeds.  Our  early  domes- 
tic life,  not  a  public  one,  was  an  obstacle  to  the  growth  of  these  so  impor- 
tant intuitions.  How  can  he  who  has  experienced  nothing,  understand 
history?  How  can  he  who  has  not  seen  the  people  make  a  living  picture 
of  IN'  life?  Small  republics  have  endless  advantage  in  respect  to  the 
observation  of  public  life  and  patriotic  sentiment.  Words,  even  the  most 
eloquent,  give  a  very  weak,  un-alisi'artory  compensation  for  observation. 
'The  year  ls4s  has  in  this  respect,  brought  most  important  steps  of  pro- 
-.*  Prominent  above  all  other  consideration*  is  the  importance  of  the 
life,  the  intelligence,  the  standpoint,  the  character  of  the  teacher,  for  lay- 
ing the  foundation  of  living  ol)M-rvaiion  in  the  soul,  in  the  mind,  and  ic 
the  disposition  of  the  pupil.  What  he  does  not  cany  in  his  own  bosom 
b 


he  cannot  awaken  in  the  bosom  of  another.  Nothing  else  can 
for  the  want  of  this.  The  teacher  must  himself  have  seen,  observed. 
-experienced,  investigated,  lived,  and  thought  as  much  as  possible,  a*id 
should  exhibit  a  model  in  moral,  religious,  {esthetic,  and  purely  human 
and  social  respects.  So  much  a-  he  is.  M>  much  is  his  educational  instruc- 
tion worth.  He  is  to  his  pupils  the  most  instructive,  the  most  appreciable, 
the  most  striking  object  of  observation. 

*  "  We  hope."  ?ays  Diepterweg's  biographer,  "that  Father  Diesterweg  would  have  been 
satisfied  with  the  "progress  from  1848  to  1871  if  he  could  have  experienced  it,  but  let  us 
keep  watch  of  ourselves  in  spite  of  nil  lliat,  for  security.  The  chief  battle  of  the 
German  nation  seems  but  just  now  (1873)  to  be  beginning." 


PESTALOZZIANISM  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES. 


II1STOKICAL   DATA. 

THE  earliest  presentation  of  the  principles  of  Pestalozzi  to  the 
people  of  the  United  States,  which  has  met  my  eye,  was  in  a 
communication  based  on  the  authority  of  William  Macluro  in  the 
Xational  [ntelliyencer,  printed  in  Washington  on  the  6th  of  June, 
1806.  This  was  followed  on  the  9th  and  30th  of  the  same 
month  by  an  elaborate  exposition  of  his  method,  taken  from  Dr. 
Chavannes'  treatise  published  in  Paris  in  1805,  and  subsequently 
printed  in  the  Italian  and  Spanish  languages. 

WILLIAM    MACLURE. 

WILLIAM  MACLURE,  to  whose  broad  humanitarianism  science 
and  popular  education  in  the  United  States  are  largely  indebtedr 
w;is  born  at  Ayr  in  Scotland  in  the  year  1763,  and  died  in  San 
;ol  in  Mexico  in  1840.  He  first  visited  New  York  in  1782,  in 
the  interest  of  the  London  mercantile  firm  of  Millar,  Hart  &  Co., 
in  which  he  soon  after  became  a  partner,  with  his  residence  in 
London.  He  visited  this  country  again  in  1796;  and  in  1803  he 
had  become  so  identified  with  it,  that  he  was  associated  by  Pres- 
ident Jefferson  with  Messrs.  Mercer  and  Barnet  in  a  Commission 
to  settle  with  the  French  government  for  claims  of  our  merchants 
for  spoliations  committed  in  the  revolutionary  period. 

Satisfied  with  a  moderate  pecuniary  independence,  Mr.  Maclure 
retired  from  mercantile  business  in  1806,  and  entered  on  a  course 
of  scientific  investigations  in  the  great  field  of  natural  history,  and 
especially  of  its  mineralogy  and  geology,  which  won  for  him  the 
distinction  of  the  Father  of  American  Geology.  W  ithout  the  pat- 
ronage of  a  single  State,  or  association,  and  at  a  time  when  there 
was  little  knowledge  and  sympathy  with  scientific  pursuits,  he 
commenced  a  geological  survey  of  the  United  States,  which 
extended  from  the  river  St.  Lawrence  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico, 
and  which  before  its  conclusion  led  him  fifty  times  over  the 
Alloghany  range,  crossing  and  recrossing  it  at  different  points  in 
every  State— over  pathless  tracts  and  dreary  solitudes  and  with 

*  A  memoir  by  S.  G.  Morton,  read  before  the  American  Academy  of  Natural  Sciences 
of  Philadelphia,  and  printed  in  Silliman's  Journal  of  Science,  April,  1844.     Also  bio- 
graphical references  in  Maclurc's  Opinions  on  Various  Subjects. 
21 


; ;i("  WILLIAM  MA(  I 

great  privations  and  exposures,  month  after  month  and  year  after 
year,  until  he  submitted  a  final  memoir  to  the  American  Phil- 
osophical Society,  in  1817,  having  read  a  preliminary  paper  eight 
years  before,  covering  three  years'  work. 

For  several  years  before  entering  on  this  survey  which  extended 
over  eleven  years,  Mr.  Maclure  devoted  a  portion  of  every  year  to 
the  geology  of  Europe,  and  particularly  of  Switzerland,  and  dur- 
ing his  visits  there  he  became  deeply  interested  in  the  educat 
work  of  Pestalozzi  at  Yverdun,  and  Fellenberg  at  Hofwyl,  and 
by  pen  and  conversation,  and  substantial  offers  and  aid,  labored  to 
make  their  principles  and  methods  known  in  his  adopted  country. 
To  this  part  of  his  history  we  will  return  after  noticing  further  his 
singularly  disinterested  labors  in  the  field  of  science. 

From  1812  Mr.  Maclure  took  an  active  interest  in  the  early  his- 
tory, endowment,  and  transactions  of  the  Academy  of  Natural 
Sciences  at  Philadelphia  where  he  usually  spent  his  intervals  of 
rest.  To  its  museum  and  library  he  gave  valuable  books  and 
specimens,  under  his  auspices  lectures  were  instituted,  and  a  Journal 
was  commenced.  Of  this  academy  he  was  elected  President  in 
1817,  and  continued  to  the  time  of  his  death,  a  period  of  twenty- 
two  years;  and  to  this  institution  he  donated  a  large  collection  of 
books  and  minerals  in  1819  and  1835,  and  from  time  to  time 
made  subscriptions  of  over  $20,000  to  a  fund  for  the  erection  of 
a  fire-proof  edifice,  which  was  began  in  1839  and  completed 
in  1840. 

In  1817  he  issued  his  Observations  on  the  Geology  of  the    United 
.1 — with  some  Remarks  on  the  Nature  and  Fertility  of  Soils, — a 
corrected  report  of  the  memoirs  of  his  survey  in  the  transactions 
of  the  American  Philosophical  Society  in  1809  and  1816. 

In  the  winter  of  1816-17,  Mr.  Maclure  visited  the  West  Indies 
to  make  personal  observations  on  the  geological  features  of  the 
Antilles;  and  submitted  a  memoir  to  the  Academy  in  1817,  which 
is  printed  in  Vol.  I  of  its  Journal. 

In  1819  he  visited  France  and  Spain,  and  while  in  Paris  pre- 
pared several  essays  for  the  Revue  Encyclopedique  which  were 
excluded  by  the  Censors  of  the  press  as  too  democratic.  These 
essays  were  afterwards  translated  into  Spanish  and  printed  in 
Madrid,  to  which  the  author  had  resorted  in  consequence  of  the 
liberal  constitution  promulgated  by  the  Cortes.  Here  his  benefi- 
cent activity  was  expended  in  scientific  explorations  and  the 
improvement  of  the  system  of  elementary  instruction  by  the 
introduction  of  Pestalozzi 's  methods,  and  of  an  agricultural  school 


WILLIAM    MA i  i  391 

after  the  model  of  Fellenberg'.s  in  which  manual  labor  should  be 

corn!):::. -'I   with  moral  and  intellectual  culture.     To  facilitate  his 

«'d  a  memoir  of  1'estalozzi,  and  Chavannes*  report  on 

>  to  be  printed  in  Spanish,  and  bought  of  the  govern- 

men:    ID. 000  acres  of  land   near  the  city  of  Alicant,  which  had 

belonged  to  a  suppressed  convent.     In  1823  the  constitution  was 

overthrown,  and  the  lands  were  returned  to  the  church;   and  Mr. 

.Ma  lure  in  his  mineralogical  excursions  in  the  mountains  was  in 

danger  of  being  kidnapped  and  held  as  a  slave  until  a  ransom  to 

amount  was  paid  for  his  liberation. 

In  1824  Mr.  Maclure  returned  to  the  United  States,  intent  on 
establishing  an  agricultural  school  on  a  plan  similar  to  that  pro- 
jected in  Spain;  and  sympathizing  with  Mr.  Robert  Owen  in  his 
ing  object,  'The  greatest  good  for  the  greatest  number,1  and 
especially  in  giving  to  the  laborer  with  his  hands  the  benefits  of 
an  instructed  brain,  he  resolved  to  make  trial  of  his  own  plans  in 
the  neighborhood  of  New  Harmony,  in  Indiana,  thirty  miles 
i  the  mouth  of  W abash  River,  where  Mr.  Owen  had  located 
his  settlement  for  the  trial  of  his  new  Social  System.  Mr.  Maclure 
does  not  seem  to  have  entered  into  the  communism  of  Mr.  Owen's 
village  organization,  but  to  have  confined  himself  to  his  own  edu- 
cational work  in  the  immediate  neighborhood,  where  he  erected  a 
building  for  residence,  to  which  he  removed  his  private  library, 
philosophical  instruments,  and  collections  of  natural  history,  and 
to  which  he  invited  his  friends,  Mr.  Say,  Mr.  Lesuer,  Dr.  Troost, 
and  others,  who  already  had  an  enviable  scientific  reputation. 

In  the  autumn  of  1827.  the  plan  of  an  educational  establish- 
ment of  a  delicate  and  original  character,  not  succeeding,  or  at 
least  not  developing  as  rapidly  as  the  proprietors  hoped,  in  the 
natural  hindrances  of  a  new  settlement  like  that  of  New  Harmony, 
increased  by  discordant  elements  brought  together  from  different 
countries  in  the  expectation  of  a  New  Jerusalem,  as  it  were, 
coming  down  from  heaven — Mr.  Maclure,  with  his  friend  Mr.  Say, 
embarked  for  Mexico  to  secure  the  benefits  of  a  more  genial 
climate.  Here  he  found  ample  scope  for  his  scientific  investiga- 
tions and  his  socio-economical  observations  and  speculations, 
which  are  embodied  in  his  Letters  from  Mexico,  printed  in  the 
New  Harmony  Disseminator,  and  embodied  in  his  volume  of 
Ojrinmns  on  1  'arious  Subjects.  Here  his  convictions  of  the  immense 
importance  of  Pestalozzi's  and  Pellenberg's  principles  of  education 
:m  t  )  incur  expense  for  their  dissemination,  and  for  a  second 
elL-n  to  establish  an  agricultural  seminary  in  which  the  industrial 
element  should  be  an  essential  part  of  the  organization  and 


392  WILLIAM  MACLt  RE. 

instruction.  He  was  present  at  a  meeting  of  the  American  Geo- 
logical Society  at  New  Haven  in  November,  1828,  and  there,, 
among  other  designs,  announced  his  purpose  to  bring  back  with 
him  from  Mexico  a  number  of  young  native  Indians  in  order  to- 
have  them  educated  in  the  United  States,  and  subsequently  to- 
become  the  pioneers  of  a  better  civilization  among  the  people  of 
their  own  race.  But  he  did  not  live  to  return  from  his  second 
visit  to  Mexico — his  constitution,  never  very  robust,  yielded  rap- 
idly to  the  advance  of  age  and  disease,  and  after  making  great 
efforts  to  reach  Vera  Cruz,  (with  the  co-operation  of  his  friend,  the 
American  consul  there,)  on  his  return  to  Philadelphia,  he  died  at 
the  country  house  of  Valentine  Gomez  Farias,  ex- President  of 
Mexico,  March  23,  1840,  in  the  seventy-seventh  year  of  his  age. 

Educated  in  the  best  methods  of  the  grammar  schools  of  Scot- 
land, trained  by  the  responsibilities  of  large  mercantile  trans- 
actions to  habits  of  bold  and  yet  careful  calculation,  liberalized  by 
the  widest  observation  of  natural  phenonema,  as  well  as  the  lar- 
gest experience  of  mankind  under  different  forms  of  government 
and  widely  varying  conditions  of  occupation,  Mr.  Maclure  devoted 
h:s  talents  and  his  wealth,  not  to  the  acquisition  of  a  greater  for- 
tune, or  personal  aggrandizement,  or  sensual  indulgence,  but  to  the 
advancement  of  science  and  the  amelioration  of  the  condition  of 
his  fellow  men,  born  and  living  in  circumstances  not  as  favorable 
to  happiness  as  himself .  Prof.  Silliman  remarked:  '  It  is  rare  that 
affluence,  liberality,  and  the  possession  and  love  of  science  unite 
so  signally  in  the  same  individual.'  The  Academy  of  Natural 
Sciences  of  Philadelphia,  although  assisted  by  valuable  contribu- 
tions from  many  individuals,  is  a  monument  of  his  liberality.  At 
the  time  of  his  death  there  was  not  a  cabinet  of  natural  history, 
public  or  private,  in  the  whole  country,  which  had  not  been  aug- 
mented by  his  contributions;  not  a  scientific  publication  of  an 
expensive  character  which  had  net  been  aided  by  his  timely  sub- 
scription to  its  completion.  In  1805  he  enabled  a  young  French- 
man (Mr.  Godon)  to  go  from  Paris  to  the  United  States,  who 
delivered  in  Boston  and  Philadelphia  the  first  lectures  that  were 
given  in  mineralogy  in  any  part  of  the  Union.  He  furnished  the 
earliest  information,  both  in  printed  reports  and  private  letters,  in 
1805  and  1806,  for  an  intelligent  description  of  the  educational 
views  of  Pestalozzi  in  the  public  press  of  this  country;  and  in 
1800  he  paid  the  expenses  of  travel  and  residence  in  Philadelphia 
for  two  years,  to  enable  Mr.  Joseph  Neef,  a  pupil  of  Pestalozzi,  to 
open  a  school  on  his  principles  in  Philadelphia. 


PESTALOZZIANISM  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES.  393: 

Joseph  Necf,  who  opened  the  first  avowedly  Pestalozzian  school  in  the 
United  States,  was  born  in  Alsace  about  1777,  and  was  for  a  time  a 
pupil,  and  in  1801  became  a  teacher,  at  Burgdorf.  In  1803  he  was  sent 
by  Pestalozzi,  on  the  application  of  an  orphan  school  and  at  the  sug- 
gestion of  Count  de  Lezay-Marnesia,  Prefect  of  Upper  Rhine,  to  Paris, 
where  he  taught  the  new  method  under  such  conditions,  that  in  the 
year  following,  Bonaparte,  then  first  Consul,  according  to  Pompee 
(in  his  Study  of  the  Life  and  Works  of  Pestalozzi,  Paris,  1850  and 
1878)  attended  a  public  examination  of  his  pupils. 

In  1805,  William  Maclure,  with  Mr.  C.  Cabal  of  Virginia,  returned  to- 
Paris  from  Yverdun,  where  he  had  become  deeply  interested  in 
Pestalozzi  and  his  method ;  sought  out  Neef,  who  tells  the  story  of  the 
interview  and  results  as  follows : 

"On  what  terms,"  said  Mr.  Maclure,  "will  you  go  to  my  country  and 
introduce  there  your  method  of  education  ?  I  have  seen  Pestalozzi,  I 
know  his  system";  my  country  needs  it,  and  will  receive  it  with  enthusi- 
asm. I  engage  to  pay  your  passage  and  meet  all  expenses.  Go  and  be 
your  master's  apostle  in  the  new  world!"  My  soul  was  warmed  with 
admiration  at  such  uncommon  generosity.  Republican  by  inclination 
and  principle,  and,  of  course,  not  at  all  pleased  with  the  new  order  of 


things  at  home,  I  was  not  only  glad  to  quit  Europe,  but  I  burnt  with 
desire  to  see  that  country,  to  live  in  and  be  useful  to  a  country  which 
could  boast  of  such  citizens.  But  what  still  more  exalts  Mr.  Maclure's 


magnanimity  is  that  I  did  not  at  that  period  understand  English  at  all. 
Two  years  at  least  were  to  be  allowed  for  my  acquiring  sufficient 
knowledge  of  the  language,  during  which  time  I  had  no  resource  but 
Mr.  Maclure's  generosity.  But  neither  this  nor  any  other  consideration 
could  stagger  liis  resolution.  Thus  it  was  that  I  became  an  inhabitant  of 
the  new  world." 

Mr.  Neef  opened  his  school  near  Germantown  in  June,  1809,  and  in 
1811,  the  Providence  (R.  I.)  American,  publishes  a  letter  in  answer  to 
inquiries  respecting  the  new  system,  which  was  copied  into  Niles' 
Weekly  Register  (Baltimore),  of  September  28th.  From  this  reprint  our 
extracts  are  taken. 

Everything  I  have  said,  or  which  the  power  of  language  could  express, 
would  fall  short  of  an  adequate  description  of  the  effects  already  pro- 
duced by  Neef's  system,  which  will  not  have  been  two  years  in  operation 
till  the  '9th  of  June.  Such  indeed  are  the  effects,  that  many  who  go- 
there  and  see  and  hear  are  amazed,  become  incredulous,  only  because 
they  can  not  see  how  it  is  produced.  I,  who  have  been  a  constant  visitor, 
have  had  an  opportunity  to  mark  the  principle  of  the  method,  as  well  aa 
to  note  the  astonishing  ease,  certainty,  and  simplicity  of  the  process.  . . . 

By  the  old  system,  children  have  a  primer  or  horn  book  put  inta 
their  hands,  and  they  begin  to  learn  the  arbitrary  and  unmeaning  names 
of  certain  signs  called  the  alphabet. 

By  Neef's  system,  they  begin  to  learn  the  names  of  all  their  limbs,  mem- 
bers, and  different  relations  and  uses  of  all  parts  of  the  human  body. 
Nearly  two  years  elapse  before  they  hear  of  an  alphabet  or  a  book;  nor 
pen  and  ink,  until  they  are  able  to  read  and  write.  This  is  an  apparent 
parodox ;  but  it  is  nevertheless  true. 

The  second  stage  of  the  old  system  is  to  spell  single  syllables. 

The  second  stage  of  Neef's  method  is  to  put  a  slate  and  pencil  before' 
the  boy,  and  to  bring  his  hand  to  the  habit  of  drawing  a  straight  line- 
without  the  aid  of  a  rule,  and  to  draw  the  line  to  any  given  number  of 


394  PESTALOZZIANISM  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES. 

inches  as  called  for,  by  the  eye  only,  and  without  any  rule  to  measure, 
except  utter  it  is  done,  to  exhibit  its  accuracy. 

The  third  stage  in  the  new  is  to  divide  the  straight  line  into  any 
required  number  of  parts  by  the  eye  instantly,  and  with  an  exactness 
that  shall  stand  the  test  of  the  compass  and  rule. 

The  fourth  stage  of  the  old  school  is  words  of  four  syllables. 

The  fourth  stage  of  the  new  school,  is  to  discriminate  between  the 
properties  of  lines  —  horizontal,  vertical,  and  oblique, —  and  so  he  pro- 
ceeds to  visible  objects Strange  as  it  may  appear,  these 

lessons  with  the  pencil  lead  to  the  art  of  alphabetical  writing,  and  the 
Alphabet  alter  this  course  is  not  a  matter  of  mere  rote,  but  is  established 
in  the  mind  with  precise  ideas  of  its  uses,  as  an  agent  for  convenience  to 
the  memory,  not  as  the  essential  object  of  learning. 

The  lessona  :in- conducted  like  sports,  and  they  are  rarely  more  than 
an  hour  at  any  time  in  the  school-room;  nor  do  the  lesson*  proceed  in  an 
arbitrary  rotation.  There  is  a  certain  order,  but  it  is  in  the  teacher's 
mind.  The  preceding  lesson  invariably  leads  to.  and  aids  that  which  is 

to  follow Their  morning  rambles  over  hills  and  valleys, 

rocks  and  declivities,  are  nothing  more  than  exercises  in  gymnastics,  or 
in  natural  history;  minerals,  earths,  plants,  and  trees  are  investigated; 
the  measurement  of  a  triangle  by  the  eye  on  a  slate  is  now  applied  to  the 
measurement  of  a  similar  figure  in  the  open  fields,  and  the  chain  of 
perches  perform  the  operations  which  are  assigned  to  the  compass  in  the 
school-room. 

Tin  regular  course  embraces  six  years,  but  can  be  extended  both  in 
subjects  and  time  should  the  parents  desire  or  the  pupil  be  qualified. 
The  ordinary  course  consists  of  General  Astronomy,  Chemistry.  Botany. 
Mat  hematic*..  Natural  Philosophy,  Geography,  and  Drawing.— all  taught 
with  accuracy  by  a  strict  analysis  of  real  object^,  as  tar  as  attainable. 
Pupils  are  al'l  taught  to  swim  in  summer  and  skate  in  winter,  and  their 
propensities  to  mechanics  or  gardening  are  encouraged,  the  fullest  oppor- 
tunities being  given  to  unfold  their  faculties  in  such  work. 

The  boys  come  to  town  occasionally,  but  what  is  not  very  usual,  they 
are  glad  to  go  back  to  school  again,  the  town  being  of  less  interest  to 
them  than  their  home  and  school  life  in  the  country.  ' 

The  terms  are  $200,  which  include  tuition,  board,  washing,  and  every 
attention  to  health  and  happiness. 

Before  opening  his  school,  Neef  published  in  1808,  a  Sketch  of  a 
Plan  and  Method  of  Education,  founded  on  an  Analysis  of  the  Human 
Faculties  and  Natural  Reason  suitable  for  the  offspring  of  a  Free  People. 
At  the  date  of  this  publication,  Neef  had  not  yet  attained  such  mastery 
of  English  as  to  justify  his  publishing  his  views  of  Education  (which 
are,  however,  strictly  Pestalozzian,)  in  that  language.  In  181  •}  he 
issued  a  second  volume  on  Language,  which  met  with  less  favor  than 
the  first;  on  the  whole  Neef  did  not  achieve  very  brilliant  results  in 
Philadelphia,  nor  was  he  very  widely  known  in  his  new  field  of  labor 
in  Lexington,  Kentucky,  where  he  conducted  the  "Pestalozzian  De- 
partment "  (the  Primary  and  English  students)  in  the  Eclectic  Institute, 
•established  by  Rev.  B.  O.  Peers  in  1830.  In  both  instances  the  school 
was  not  so  situated  as  to  admit  of  being  freely  visited,  and  its  peculiar 
merits  much  written  about  in  the  press.  Neef  died  in  Lexington  in  1835. 

Dr.  Keagy  (John  M.),  a  teacher  in  Harrisburg  and  Philadelphia  from 
1826  to  1836,  was  far  more  successful  in  his  school  manuals,  and  in 
public  meetings  of  teachers,  in  commending  the  Pestalozzian  system  of 
Object  Teaching  to  the  people  of  Pennsylvania. 


PESTALOZZIAXISM  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES.  395 

THE   ACADEMICIAN — 1819. 

In  1819  we  find  several  elaborate  and  extended  notices  in  the 
Academician,  edited  by  Messrs.  Albert  and  John  Picket  of  New 
York.  In  Number  14,  for  January,  there  appears  an  article  on 
Pestalozzi's  "  Method  of  teaching  Religious  and  Moral  Principles 
to  Children:' 

Pestalozzi,  in  the  first  place,  by  questions  adapted  to  the  tender  age  of 
the  pupil,  endeavored  to  ascertain  whether  any  idea  existed  in  his  mind 
upon  the  subject  to  which  he  wished  to  direct  his  attention;  and  from  any 
one  clear  idea  of  which  he  found  the  child  in  possession  he  led  him  on, 
by  a  series  of  questions,  to  the  acquirement  of  such  other  ideas  as  were 
most  intimately  connected  with  that  primary  conception.  Thus,  for 
example,  suppose  that  he  found  in  the  child  an  idea  of  the  existence  of  a 
being  whom  he  called  God.  He,  instead  of  teaching  him  to  repeat  by  rote 
the  notions  communicated  by  divine  revelation  on  what  constitutes  the 
ba<is  of  all  religious  principle,  proceeded  by  questioning  him  to  direct  his 
attention  to  such  of  the  evidences  of  the  divine  power,  wisdom,  and  good- 
ness as  were  immediately  within  reach  of  his  perceptions,  concerning  the 
unbounded  love  and  all-directing  providence  of  the  Supreme  Being.  Clear 
ideas  were  in  this  manner  obtained ;  and  thus  the  infant  mind  was  led  at 
an  early  period  to  objects  which  cannot  at  any  period  of  life  be  con- 
templated without  producing  corresponding  emotions  of  reverence,  grati- 
tude, love,  and  veneration. 

Having  thus  prepared  the  heart  for  obeying  "the  first  great  command- 
ment," he,  by  leading  to  a  consideration  of  the  omnipresence  of  Deity, 
rendered  the  impression  deep  and  permanent.  It  was  thus  that  Pestalozzi 
laid  the  foundation  for  the  belief  and  practice  of  the  doctrines  and  duties 
of  Christianity,  when  the  faculties  of  the  understanding  should  be  suf- 
ficiently ripened  for  comprehending  the  importance  of  the  truths  that 
have  been  revealed.  It  was  on  the  same  principle,  and  by  the  same 
method  of  instruction,  that  Pestalozzi  inspired  his  pupils  with  correct 
notions  of  justice,  probity,  and  benevolence.  The  duty  of  doing  to  others 
as  they  would  have  others  in  like  cases  do  to  them,  appeared,  as  it  were, 
a  discovery  of  their  own,  a  truth  demonstrated  and  unquestionable.  Led 
also  in  the  same  manner  to  a  perception  of  the  utility  of  order,  they 
became  conscious  of  the  necessity  of  adhering  strictly  to  the  rules  and 
forms  of  discipline,  essential  to  the  preservation  of  that  order  of  which 
they  felt  the  benefit  and  advantage.  Instructed,  and  in  a  manner  com- 
pelled to  think  and  to  examine  the  motives  of  their  conduct,  they  learned 
to  set  a  value  on  self -approbation,  confirmed  by  the  approbation  of  those 
in  whose  wisdom  they  placed  confidence. 

We  may  easily  believe,  that  when  the  moral  feelings  have  been  rendered 
thus  susceptible,  the  dread  of  losing  the  esteem  of  a  revered  instructor 
would  impose  a  restraint  more  powerful  than  is  imposed  by  terror  of  pun- 
ishment. 

A  few  particular  methods,  judiciously  planned,  and  carefully  practiced, 
may  be  made  habitually  to  exert  the  minds  of  youth  in  the  acquirement 
of  clear  and  accurate  notions  concerning  all  the  objects  of  perception 
which  can  be  brought  within  reach  of  their  observation;  and  thus  their 
mental  powers,  instead  of  being  suffered  to  remain  dormant,  will  be  grad- 
ually developed  and  improved,  and  rendered  capable  of  being  exerted  on 
other  objects. 

The  principle  adopted  and  adhered  to  by  Pestalozzi  is  in  its  nature 
universal  and  may  be  universally  applied.  It  is  neither  deep  nor  intri- 
cate, nor  beyond  the  comprehension  of  the  most  ordinary  capacity.  In  a 
few  words,  it  is  simply  attending  to  the  laws  of  nature.  By  these  it  has 
been  ordained  that  the  human  understanding,  though  it  maybe  generally 
opened,  and  enabled  to  embrace  a  vast  extent  of  knowledge,  can  only  be 
•opened  gradually  and  by  a  regular  scries  of  efforts.  Pestalozzi,  perceiv- 


396  PESTALOZZIANISM  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES. 

ing  that  when  one  idea  upon  any  subject  had  been  acquired  by  a  childv 
the  next  in  succession  was  no  sooner  presented  than  imbibed ;  and  also' 
observing  that  when  it  was  attempted  to  force  upon  children  ideas  having 
no  connection  with  any  which  had  previously  entered  their  minds,  the 
attempt  proved  fruitless,  took  the  hint  from  nature,  and  wisely  formed 
his  plan  in  conformity  to  hers.  Instead  of  making  children  repeat  words 
that  suggested  ideas  to  his  own  mind,  he  set  himself  to  observe  what  were 
the  ideas  that  actually  existed  in  theirs.*  He  then,  by  questions  adapted 
to  their  capacities,  induced  them  to  make  such  further  exertion  of  their 
powers  as  enabled  them  to  add  new  ideas  to  their  slender  stock,  and  by 
persevering  in  the  process,  expanded  their  faculties  to  a  degree,  which,  to 
those  best  qualified  to  judge  of  the  difficulties  of  the  abstruse  sciences  he- 
professed  to  teach,  seemed  little  short  of  miraculous. 

The  means  employed  by  Pestalozzi  to  improve  the  heart  and  dispo- 
sitions, are  extremely  simple  and  extremely  obvious,  yet,  simple  as  they 
are,  and  infallible  as  is  their  operation,  many  and  obstinate  are  the  preju- 
dices that  must  be  surmounted  ere  we  can  expect  to  see  them  generally 
adopted.  The  effect  resulting  from  them,  as  exemplified  in  the  school  of 
morality,  is  what  has  been  termed  by  our  old  divines,  the  practice  of  tJie 
presence  of  God.  Other  children  are  taught  to  say  that  God  is  ever  pres- 
ent: but  the  pupils  of  Pestalozzi  are  taught  to  know  and  to  feel  in  their 
hearts  that  "  in  God  they  live  and  move  and  have  their  being. "  This  con- 
viction is  impressed  and  riveted  in  their  minds,  so  as  never  to  be  for  a 
single  moment  obscured,  nor  does  this  belief  produce  in  them  the  slavish 
fear  which  so  naturally  leads  to  a  gloomy  superstition;  neither  does  it 

Eroduce  any  tendency  to  that  enthusiasm  which  expends  its  fires  in  the 
jrvid  and  useless  blaze  of  ecstacy.     It  is  productive  simply  of  the  feel- 
ings of  reverence  and  gratitude  and  love,  accompanied  by  the  sense  of  the 
divine  protection  which  inspires  courage  and  confidence,  and  that  ardent 
desire  of  divine  approbation  which  leads  to  the  practice  of  every  virtue. 

A  NATIVE  OP  CLINTON  COUNTY. 

In  the  Academician  for  February  13,  1819,  "A  Native  of  din? 
ton  County"  N.  Y.,  begins  a  series  of  articles  on  Pestalozzi  in 
thcss  words: 

MESSRS.  A.  &  J.  W.  PICKET: 

In  your  fourteenth  number,  there  appeared  a  very  brief  view  of  the 
method  of  instruction  devised  by  Pestalozzi.  I  have  in  my  possession  a 
very  ample  account  of  the  Institute  at  Yverdun,  by  M.  Jullien,  printed  in 
the  French  language,  at  Milan,  in  1812.  I  have  also  a  work  on  the  sub- 
ject in  Spanish,  entitled  Exposition  del  metodo  Elemental  de  Henrique  Pes- 
talozzi, &c.,por  Chavannes,  1807.  I  possess  also  about  twenty  volumes  of 
the  different  books  of  instruction  in  that  method,  in  the  German  language; 
the  method  pervading  all  parts  of  Germany;  and  a  book  of  instruction 
has  just  fallen  into  my  hands  entitled  Pestalozzi' s  Intuitive  Relations  of 
Numbers.  Part  1,  which  has  been  translated  from  the  German  or  French 
into  English,  and  printed  as  the  following  will  show:  "Dublin:  sold  by 
Martin  Keene,  bookseller,  College  Green;  Thomas  Bower,  No.  67  Lower 
Gardiner  street;  and  at  the  Committee-House  for  Charitable  Societies, 
No.  16  Upper  Sack  vine-street,  1817." 

,  My  purpose  in  noticing  those  books  is  with  the  double  view  of  exciting 
attention  to  the  most  efficient  method  of  education  that  human  genius  has. 
hitherto  devised;  and  to  show  that  a  method  of  education  scarcely  known 
in  this  country  has  spread  over  Switzerland,  Italy,  and  Germany,  obtained 
great  attention  in  France,  found  patronage  even  in  Spain,  and  has  found 

"This  remark  ought  to  claim  the  serious  attention  of  every  person  concerned  in  the 
development  of  the  infant  mind.  The  flash  of  light  thrown  upon  the  subject  is  sufficient 
to  dispel  the  darkness  that  hovers  over  most  places  of  instruction  in  our  country;  but  as 
the  light  begins  to  prevail,  our  schools  are  becoming  better. 


PESTALOZZIANISM  IN  THE  UNITED  bTATES.  397 

regard  in  Ireland,  so  as  to  become  an  object  of  concern  to  charitable 
foundation. 

The  sketch  which  you  have  given  is  corroborated  by  the  work  of 
Jullien,  vol.  1,  p.  107,  and  vol.  2,  p.  305.  Having  had  some  opportuni- 
ties to  form  opinions  upon  the  efficiency  and  unequaled  effect  on  the 
tender  minds  of  young  persons  between  six  and  sixteen  years  old,  I  am 
induced  to  invite  your  attention  to  it  at  this  time,  when  there  is  at  least  an 
avowal  of  the  necessity  of  some  system  adapted  to  teach  to  youth  the 
rudiments  of  necessary  knowledge  in  a  comprehensive  and  effectual 
manner. 

The  peculiar  characters  of  the  method  of  Pestalozzi  are  simplicity  and 
truth.  Simplicity  in  the  mode  of  inducing  the  mind  to  be  instructed,  to 
seek  for  knowledge,  and  to  make  the  impression  on  the  mind  truly,  and 
not  ambiguously  nor  imperfectly.  Whatever  is  thus  inculcated  is  no 
longer  necessary  to  be  repeated,  it  becomes  an  indestructible  part  of  the 
stock  of  rational  ideas,  which  fade  only  with  the  decay  of  life. 

Connected  with  those  principles  of  simplicity  and  truth  are  the  modes 
and  means  by  which  the  business  of  education  is  insensibly  prosecuted 
without  any  restraints  or  vexations  or  force;  knowledge  is  acquired  by 
means  which  assure  the  appearance  and  carry  all  the  gratification  of  rec- 
reation. In  a  word,  the  mind  is  led  without  perceiving  the  delicate  film 
which  is  proved  to  be  competent  to  conduct  it ;  the  health  is  preserved  by 
the  exercises  which  enter  into  the  modes  of  instruction,  and  the  constitu- 
tion is  at  the  same  time  strengthened,  while  the  mind  is  enlarged,  and  the 
temper  secured  in  habitual  contentedness  and  cheerfulness. 

This  general  view  of  the  method  does  not  depend  on  the  authority  of 
books;  it  is  the  fruit  of  my  own  observation  and  experience  when  I  had  a 
tender  interest  in  two  of  the  innocent  pupils  who  derived  benefits  there- 
from which  wTill  continue  during  their  lives,  and  which  I  regret  that 
peculiar  circumstances  did  not  permit  them  to  pursue  up  to  a  complete 
course. 

In  the  particular  branches  of  instruction,  the  eye  and  ear  and  tongue  of 
the  pupil  are  all  engaged  in  a  manner  adapted  to  each  subject,  and  sev- 
eral subjects  follow  in  an  unperceived  order,  adapted  each  to  sustain 
either  some  previous  study  or  to  prepare  for  that  which  is  to  come.  The 
usual  lessons,  if  so  they  may  be  called,  for  children  of  five  or  seven  years 
old,  are  the  knowledge  of  the  names  of  the  members  and  parts  of  the 
individual.  A  work  especially  adapted  to  this  first  class  of  instruction, 
and  called  The  Mother's  Book,  is  published ;  it  forms  a  part  of  the  tuition 
of  the  school,  because,  although  mothers  usually  teach  their  children  to 
know  their  right  hand  from  their  left;  and  their  fingers  from  their 
thumbs ;  yet  even  this  mother-taught  knowledge  is  itself  defective,  and 
men  grow  in  years  frequently  without  the  knowledge  of  the  proper  names 
of  any  other  parts  of  their  bodies,  unless  some  professional  pursuit  ren- 
ders the  acquisition  indispensable.  When  mothers  shall  have  obtained  the 
accurate  knowledge  of  the  book  that  bears  this  title,  of  course  it  will  no 
longer  be  necessary  in  the  school. 

Associated,  but  by  succession,  with  the  knowledge  of  the  person,  is  the 
knowledge  of  interior  forms  or  objects;  those  which  present  themselves  to 
the  sight,  which  makes  an  impression  on  that  sense,  but  which  require  to 
be  analyzed  to  render  the  impression  distinct  and  discrimination  durable. 
This  method  is  here  manifested  in  all  its  perfectness  and  beauty, — and  the 
latent  sparks  of  intellect  are  drawn  forth  with  an  effect  that  produces,  in 
the  pleasures  of  an  hour,  principles  of  knowledge  which  employ  the  labor 
and  study  of  years.  Erroneous  ideas  are  barred  out  by  the  prepossession 
of  intellectual  light  and  truth.  Thus,  for  example,  if  the  objects  to  be 
seen  are  trees,  houses,  rocks,  or  animals,  how  are  those  different  objects  so 
discriminated  from  each  other  as  to  assign  to  each  its  proper  name.  By  a 
question,  this  is  soon  brought  forth.  It  is  discovered  that  every  object 
has  a$  form ;  and  another  question  discovers  that  all  forms  have  an  exte- 
rior line  and  that  this  line  compared  with  the  exterior  line  of  another 
object  is  the  first  sensible  difference.  It  is  discovered  that  houses  are 


39  i  PESTALOZZIANISM  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES. 

composed  in  their  exterior  forms  of  straight  lines,  generally;  that  rocks- 
are  composed  of  mixed  lines;  and  that  animals,  besides  being  of  different 
forms,  have  also  the  principle  of  life,  of  which  care  is  taken  to  prepare 
the  mind,  further  notice  will  be  taken. 

These  exercises  produce  new  questions  on  other  visible  properties  of 
objects — among  these  are  colors,  and  lights  and  shade  are  touched  upon ; 
heights,  extension,  and  magnitudes,  grow  out  of  these  inquiries;  and 
curiosity  leads  the  teacher  to  try  his  hand  at  describing  some  object,  by 
lines  on  a  slate  or  prepared  board;  many  castles  are  built  in  the  air  and 
as  speedily  demolished;  trees  are  described,  and  it  becomes  necessary  to 
discriminate  the  difference  between  kinds  of  trees,  for  the  same  kind  of 
lines  will  not  describe  the  oak  and  the  pine;  and  to  discover  other  peculi- 
arities affords  an  occasion  for  a  ramble  in  the  fields,  when  the  first  impres- 
sions of  natural  history  are  made,  by  comparing  plants,  leaves,  bark, 
brambles,  etc.  The  first  elements  of  geology  are  formed  in  those  unpre- 
meditated walks  or  sport  of  innocent  pastime ;  insects  and  fish  are  intro- 
duced to  the  mind  by  inquiries  suited  to  the  state  of  the  little  philoso- 
phers' knowledge. 

But  it  is  after  the  return  from  those  rambles  that  the  hand  is  led  to 
trace  the  impressions  of  the  mind,  and  to  discover  that  practice  is  neces- 
sary to  the  production  of  lines  of  any  form  at  will.  The  fundamental 
principles  of  geometry  commence  their  initiatory  course  at  that  moment 
when  it  is  perceived  that  lines  have  proportional  lengths  in  symmetrical 
bodies,  and  that  it  is  necessary  even  to  describe  in  oral  language  the 
length,  the  direction,  or  inclination  or  position  of  aline.  The  exercises 
on  the  principle  of  forms  is  begun  by  drawing  a  line  of  an  inch  in  length, 
and  this  leads  to  the  proportional  quantities  of  all  measures. 

Should  this  unpremeditated  sketch  be  deemed  of  any  use,  and  that  a 
continuation  will  be  acceptable,  you  shall  hear  from  me  again. 

A  NATIVE  OF  CLINTON  COUNTY. 

In  the  succeeding  numbers  (for  March,  p.  263;  April,  p.  283; 
May,  p.  295;  June,  p.  312;  July,  p.  327;  September,  p.  345) 
under  the  general  title  of  "Pestalozzi."  different  aspects  of  his 
system  are  very  clearly  presented.  In  one  of  the  last  of  the  series? 
No.  6,  for  July  10,  1810,  the  author  adds: 

1  possess  more  than  thirty  volumes  in  the  German  language,  containing 
the  details  of  the  instruction,  which  I  would  cheerfully  give  to  any  insti- 
tution or  publisher,  upon  the  condition  that  they  should  be  translated, 
printed,  and  published.  And  the  gift  would  be  a  free  offering,  nor  do  I 
wish  to  be  known  in  so  doing,  my  only  interest  in  obtaining  those  works 
from  Europe  being  to  promote  knowledge,  without  any  view  to  pecuniary 
advantage. 

I  notice  the  extent  of  the  publications,  for  these  reasons:  first,  to  show 
that  where  so  many  works  have  already  been  published,  that  the  method 
must  have  made  very  considerable  progress;  secondly,  to  show  how  inad- 
equate a  few  essays  must  be  to  convey  a  complete  idea  of  the  method  in 
all  its  details;  but  there  is  also  a  third  reason,  which  is  to  take  the  oppor- 
tunity of  explaining  why  it  is  necessary  that  the  details  should  be  so 
minute. 

As  was  exemplified  in  the  case  of  Plato,  who  dismissed  a  hearer  because 
the  want  of  a  knowledge  of  geometry  disqualified  him  from  comprehend- 
ing his  lectures,  the  defective  methods,  or  want  of  all  method  in  other 
modes  of  education,  require  to  be  supplied  in  a  method  which  does  not  per- 
mit any  progression  of  a  pupil  from  one  study  or  one  bench  to  another  until 
he  actually  understands  the  immediate  study  of  the  class,  in  which  he  has 
been  at  exercise.  It  may  appear  at  first  sight  that  the  voluminous  course 
of  thirty  volumes  renders  the  labor  of  the  pupil  more  excessive  than  the 
system  of  common  education,  which,  commencing  with  grammar  and  tlic 
reading  of  Virgil,  and  in  arithmetic  with  the  ordinary'treatises  and  the 


PESTALOZZIANI^M  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES.  399 

elementary  mathematics  of  the  colleges,  do  not  exceed  eight  or  ten  books 
in  each  department.  But  the  modes  of  practice  by  the  master,  the  labor 
of  getting  by  rote,  the  examinations,  the  exercises  in  false  and  in  correct 
grammar,  parsing,  etc. ,  are  not  taken  into  the  estimate  of  this  comparison ; 
but,  if  all  these  exercises  of  the  common  mode  were  written  down,  and 
the' hours  duly  registered,  employed  by  the  pupil  after  the  usual  hours  of 
school,  it  would  be  found  that  fifty  volumes  would  not  contain  them. 
But  in  the  works  of  the  method  of  Pestalozzi,  besides  that  there  is  no 
acquiring  lessons  by  mere  rote,  the  whole  of  the  knowledge  which  educa- 
tion is  intended  to  convey  is  taught  in  the  actual  exercises  in  which  the 
voice,  the  eye,  the  ear,  and  the  head,  are  all  brought  into  action,  and  the 
understanding,  the  analytic  faculty,  is  publicly  exercised  in  the  develop- 
ment of  the  most  minute  properties  and  nature  of  things;  grammar,  for 
example,  is  not  acquired  by  getting  by  heart,  as  it  is  called,  a  given  num- 
ber of  lines  of  Ruddiman's  or  Murray's  grammar;  the  study  of  grammar 
by  the  Pestalozzian  method  is  an  oral  analysis  and  determination  of  the 
classes  to  which  words  belong;  the  nature  of  the  classification,  its  pur- 
pose, and  even,  where  there  are  various  opinions  or  classification  of  terms, 
the  nature  of  those  distinctions  are  investigated  and  referred  to  the  nature 
and  signification  of  words  as  the  medium  of  communication  between 
minds. 

PROFESSOR   GRISCOM. 

IN  1818  and  1819,  Prof.  John  Griscom*  spent  a  year  in  the 
most  industrious  and  thoughtful  inspection  of  schools,  colleges, 
and  charitable  institutions  of  Great  Britain,  France,  Switzerland, 
Italy,  and  Holland,  and  published  an  account  of  the  same  in  two 
volumes  under  the  title  of  a  "  Year  in  Europe.''1  No  one  volume 
in  the  first  half  of  the  nineteenth  century  had  so  wide  an  influ- 
ence on  the  development  of  our  educational,  reformatory,  and 
preventive  measures,  directly  and  indirectly,  as  this. 

VISIT  TO  YVERDUN  IN   OCTOBER,  1818. 

Breakfast  finished,  our  first  and  chief  concern  here  was  to  visit  the  cel- 
ebrated institute  of  Pestalozzi.  This  establishment  occupies  a  large  castle, 
the  use  of  which  was  granted  to  Pestalozzi  by  the  canton  of  Berne,  when 
the  town  of  Yverdun  was  included  in  that  canton,  and  the  government 
of  the  Pays  de  Vaud,  to  which  it  now  belongs,  continues  the  grant.  On 
entering  the  castle,  we  were  invited  into  a  private  room.  I  gave  my  let- 
ters to  the  person  in  attendance,  who  took  them  immediately  to  the  chief. 
The  good  old  man  soon  came  in,  seized  me  warmly  by  the  hand,  and,  see- 
ing my  hat  on  my  head,  he  pointed  to  it  in  a  sort  of  ecstacy,  with  his 
eyes  almost  filled  with  tears.  I  hardly  knew  how  to  interpret  this  emo- 
tion, and  asked  him  if  he  wished  me  to  take  it  off.  He  answered  very 
earnestly,  "  No,  no,  no,  keep  it  on,  you  are  right."  He  seemed  very  glad 
to  see  us,  and  as  he  speaks  French  very  imperfectly,  and  with  an  indis- 
tinct accent,  he  said  he  would  call  Monsieur  Greaves  to  talk  with  us. 
This  gentleman  soon  came  and  entered  immediately  into  a  detail  of  the 
institution,  its  principles,  its  spirit,  its  arrangement,  etc.  He  is  an  Eng- 
lishman, and,  as  I  found  upon  inquiry,  brother  to  the  lady  whom  I  had 
seen  at  Lausanne.  He  has  been  some  weeks  with  Pestalozzi,  for  the 
purpose  of  understanding  his  system  thoroughly,  in  order  to  aid  a  sister 
in  England  in  the  education  of  her  children.  He  enters  warmly  into  its 
concerns,  and  will  be  useful  in  making  it  better  known.  He  explained  to 
us  very  clearly  the  leading  ideas  and  views  of  human  nature,  which 

*  For  memoir  of  Prof.  Griscom's  long  and  useful  educational  career,  see  Barnard's. 
American  Journal  of  Education,  Vol.  VIII,  324-347. 


400  PESTALOZZI  AN  I  <M  IX  THE  UNITED  STATES. 

induced  Pestalozzi  to  become  an  instructor  of  youth.  The  two  ereat 
instruments  with  which  he  works  are  faith  and  love.  He  discards  the 
motives  of  ambition  and  emulation  as  unnecessary,  and  as  tending  to 
counteract  the  sentiment  of  good-will  toward  others.  He  thinks  there  is 
enough  in  the  intuitive  understanding  of  every  chiM  to  accomplish  the 
complete  growth  and  maturity  of  its  faculties*  if  its  reason  be  properly 
trained  and  nourished,  and  not  warped  by  injudicious  treatment.  The 
common  plans  of  education  he  regards  as  too  artificial,  too  wide  a  depart- 
ure from  nature.  Too  much  stress  is  laid  upon  the  memory,  while  the 
imagination  is  too  much  neglected.  If  the  native  feelings  of  the  heart  are 
allowed  to  operate,  under  the  dominion  of  the  native  powers  of  the  mind. 
drawn  out  and  expanded  by  faith  and  love,  the  child  is  competent  of  itself 
to  arrive  gradually  at  the"  most  correct  and  important  conclusions  in 
religion  and  science.  There  is  a  native  and  inherent  life,  which  only 
requires  to  be  cherished  by  genial  treatment,  to  bring  it  into  the  full 
attainment  of  truth,  and  to  the  utmost  perfection  of  its  being.  He  there- 
fore insists  upon  the  greatest  pains  being  taken  to  draw  out  this  native 
life  and  to  preserve  it  in  full  vigor.  There  is  a  constant  danger  of  urging 
the  child  forward  beyond  its  natural  strength,  of  anticipating  its  concliT- 
sions  and  thus  weakening  its  confidence  in  its  own  powers.  In  the  plans 
he  adopts  nothing  is  to  be  got  by  heart.  The  understanding  is  to  be 
thoroughly  reached,  and  then  the  memory  will  take  care  of  itself. 

His  school  consists  at  present  of  about  ninety  boys,  German,  Prussian, 
French,  Swiss,  Italian,  Spanish,  and  English.  It*  is  divided  into  four 
principal  classes,  according  to  the  attainments  of  the  pupils.  These 
classes  are  subdivided  into  others.  There  are  seven  school-rooms  in  the 
castle,  and  twelve  teachers  or  professors.  His  head  professor,  Joseph 
Schmidt,  has  been  brought  up  in  the  institution,  and  is  a  very  efficient 
and  worthy  man.  He  is  a  native  of  one  of  the  German  cantons,  and 
speaks  and  writes  perfectly  the  German  and  French.  He  is  a  man  of 
modest  demeanor  and  entirely  devoted  to  the  institution.  He  has  written 
treatises  on  several  of  the  subjects  taught  in  the  school,  and  adapted  to  its 
methods. 

-pent  most  of  the  day  in  the  different  school-rooms,  witnessing  the 
exercises  of  the  scholars.  Very  few  books  are  used,  as  it  is  expected  the 
children  can  read  well  before  they  come  there.  But  to  describe  the  modes 
of  teaching,  so  as  to  render  them  clearly  intelligible,  would  require  much 
more  time  and  space  than  I  can  possibly  allot  to  it,  were  I  ever  so  com- 
petent to  make  it  known.  We  saw  the  exercises  of  arithmetic,  writing, 
drawing,  mathematics,  lessons  in  music  and  gymnastics,  something  of 
geography,  French,  Latin,  and  German.  To  teach  a  school  in  the  way 
practiced*  here,  without  book,  and  almost  entirely  by  verbal  instruction, 
is  extremely  laborious.  The  teacher  must  be  constantlv  with  the  child, 
always  talking,  questioning,  explaining,  and  repeating.  The  pupils,  how- 
ever,* by  this  process,  are  brought  into  very  close  intimacy  with  the 
instructor.  Their  capacities,  all  their  faculties  and  propensities,  become 
laid  open  to  his  observation.  This  gives  him  an  advantage  which  cannot 
possibly  be  gained  in  the  ordinary  way  in  which  schools  are  generally 
taught.  The  children  look  well,  appear  very  contented,  and  appai 
live  in  great  harmony  one  with  another;  which,  considering  the  div 
of  national  character  and  temper  here  collected,  can  be  attributed  only  to 
the  spirit  of  love  and  affection  which  sways  the  breast  of  the  principal 
of  the  institution,  and  extends  its  benign  Influence  throughout  all  the 
departments.  In  the  afternoon  we  went  with  Pestalozzi,  Greaves,  and 
Bucholz,  a  German  clergyman  (who  is  here  on  a  visit  to  the  institution),  and 
one  or  two  others,  to  visit  a  free  school  of  twelve  or  fourteen  children  which 
Pestalozzi  has  established  in  the  village  of  Clendy,  at  a  short  distance 
from  the  castle.  These  are  children  taken  from  the  families  of  pooi 
pie,  selected  on  account  of  their  character  and  talents,  in  order  to  be  edu- 
cated as  teachers,  with  a  view  to  extend  and  perpetuate  the  principles  and 
operation  of  the  system.  One-half  of  them  are  bo1  •-  and  the  other  half 
girls.  Their  principal  instructor  is  a  sister  of  Schmi  it,  the  chief  m 


PESTALOZZIAXISM  IN*  THE  UNITED  STATES.  401 

«n  exceeding  clever  and  interesting  young  woman.  She  has  another  si^er 
also  with  her.  younger  than  herself,  who  will  soon  become  qualified  to 
:i>  an  instructor.  These  pupils  were  exercised  before  us,  in  drawing. 
in  arithmetic,  and  in  music.  The  girls,  seated  round  a  table,  and  busy 
with  their  needles,  had  questions  iu  arithmetic  given  them  by  the  mistress, 
which  they  were  to  solve  by  their  heads.  They  are  thus  led  on  from  the 
most  simple  beginnings  to  "comprehend  the  principles  of  arithmetic,  and 
to  work  questions  with  great  expertness,  solely  by  a  mental  process.  A 
male  teacher  is  provided  for  the  boys,  though  the  mistress  often  assists  in 
the  instruction.  This  little  school  promises  to  be  well  cared  for,  and  of 
ice  to  the  Pestalozzian  cause.  We  were  much  pleased  with  its  appear- 
a  rice,  and  with  the  assurance  it  affords,  that  whatever  there  is  of  value  and 
importance  in  this  system  will  not  be  lost. 

The  success  of  this  mode  of  instruction,  greatly  depends  on  the  per- 
sonal qualifications  of  those  who  undertake  to  conduct  it.  There  is  nothing 
of  mechanism  in  it.  as  in  the  Lancasterian  plan ;  no  laying  down  of  precise 
rules  for  managing  classes,  etc.  It  is  all  mind  and  feeling.  Its  arrange- 
ments  must  always  depend  on  the  ages,  talents,  and  tempers  of  the  schol- 
ars, and  require,  on  the  part  of  the  teachers  the  most  diligent  and  faithful 
attention.  Above  all.  it  requires  that  the  teacher  should  "consider  himself 
as  the  father  and  bosom  friend  of  his  pupils,  and  to  be  animated  with  the 
most  affectionate  desires  for  their  good.  Pestalozzi  himself  is  all  this, 
His  heart  glows  with  such  a  spirit  that  the  good  old  man  can  hardly 
refrain  from  bestowing  kisses  on  all  with  whom  he  is  concerned.  He 
holds  out  his  hands  to  his  pupils  on  every  occasion,  and  they  love  him  as 
a  child  loves  its  mother.  His  plan  of  teaching  is  just  fit  for  the  domestic 
th\  >ide.  with  a  father  or  mother  in  the  center,  and  a  circle  of  happy  chil- 
dren around  them.  He  is  aware  of  this,  and  wishes  to  extend  the  knowl- 
edge of  his  plan  to  every  parent.  Pestalozzi  is  seventy-two  years  of  age, 
It  has  been  quite  unfortunate  for  the  progress  of  his  system  on  the  con- 
tinent, that  he  pays  so  little  attention  to  exteriors,  repmiinsr  dress,  furni- 
ture, etc..  as  of  no  moment,  provided  the  mind  and  heart  be  right. 

The  weather  continuing  wi-t.  we  resolved  to  wait  till  the  morrow,  and 
take  the  diligence  to  Lausanne  and  Geneva,  Much  of  the  day  was  spent 
at  the  castle,  in  the  school-rooms,  and  in  conversation  with  Greaves.  I 
omitted  to  mention  that  we  attended,  last  evening,  to  the  religious  exercise 
which  terminates  the  business  of  the  day.  The  scholars  assembled  in 
•a  room  called  the  chapel,  but  very  simply  furnished  with  benches  and 
•a  table.  When  all  wire  collected.  Pestalozzi,  directing  his  face  chiefly 
to  the  boys,  began  to  speak  in  German,  moving  about,  from  side  to  - 
directing  his  attention  for  some  time  to  the  boys  on  his  right  and  then 
advancing  toward  those  on  his  left.  This  motion.  backward*and forward. 
continued  about  twenty  minutes;  he  was  constantly  speaking,  and  some- 
times \\ith  considerable  earnestness.  It  was  altogether  unintelligible  to 
me.  but  I  afterward  learned  that  it  consisted  of  a  recapitulation  of  the 
occunvnees  of  the  day.  noticing  particularly  everything  of  moment,  and 
intermingling  the  whole  with  short  prayers. "adapted  loathe  eireumst; 
mentioned  in  the  discourse.  If.  for  example,  any  of  the  boys  had  quar- 
reled or  behaved  unseemly  to  each  other,  or  to  their  teacher,  he  would 
speak  to  the  ca>c.  and  accompany  his  remarks  with  a  pious  ejaculation, 
It  is  probable  that  he  sometimes*  engai  vrmally  in  this  exercise, 

V-  it  was.  it  appeared  to  gain  the  whole  attention  of  his  audience.  It 
•was  concluded  by  reading  from  a  small  book  what  appeared  to  be  a  hymn 
.T  psalm. 

A  mpany  of  English  visitors  attended  at  the  castle  to-day,  consisting 
of  men  and  women.  The  boys  performed  some  of  their  siymnastie  i 
eises  before  them,  consisting  chieflv  of  simple  but  simultaneous  move- 
ments of  the  arms.  legs.  feet.  head.  etc..  stepping,  marching,  turning, 
and  jumping,  all  intended  to  exercise  the  various  muscles  which  give 
motion  to  the  limbs  and  head,  and  to  make  the  boys  acquainted  with  the 
elements  of  all  those  movements.  This  exercise  took  place  in  one  of  the 
larsrc  bedrooms.  We  attended,  bv  invitation.  la>:  I  lecture  given 


402  PESTALOZZIANISM  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES. 

by  Schmidt,  the  head  teacher,  to  a  number  of  young  men,  among  whom 
were  four  Russians,  sent  by  the  Emperor,  to  gain  information  in  England 
and  other  countries  relative  to  the  best  modes  of  teaching.  They  had 
been  in  England,  and  spoke  our  language  tolerably  well.  The  lectures 
are  to  illustrate  more  fully  the  principles  and  processes  adopted  in  the 
Pestalozzian  institution. 

We  had  the  company,  this  evening,  at  our  lodgings,  of  Frederick 
Bucholz,  who  was  lately  a  chaplain  to  the  king's  German  legion  in  Eng- 
land. He  had  been  some  time  with  Pestalozzi,  and  was  able  to  give  us 
more  information  with  respect  to  some  parts  of  the  system  than  we  could 
obtain  by  a  short  visit  to  the  school  itself. 

We  have  had  at  our  table  d'hote,  during  the  last  two  days,  ten  or  twelve 
boys,  with  their  three  preceptors,  constituting  a  boarding-school  at  Geneva. 
They  are  on  an  excursion  round  the  lake  of  Geneva,  taking  Yverdun  in 
the  way.  They  came  to  this  place  on  foot,  through  the  rain,  and  intended 
to  perform  the  whole  journey  on  foot;  but  the  weather  continuing  very 
wet,  they  went  off  this  morning  in  carriages.  One  of  them  is  a  young 
prince  of  Wirtemburg,  about  twelve  years  of  age,  of  plain  juvenile  man- 
ners, no  extraordinary  talent,  but  apparently  of  an  amiable  temper. 

We  left  Yverdun  in  the  diligence,  after  going  again  to  the  castle,  and 
taking  leave  of  some  of  the  professors.  Pestalozzi  was  not  in ;  he  had 
been  to  see  us  at  the  inn,  but  missed  of  us.  Before  we  set  off,  however, 
the  good  old  man  came  down  again,  and  parted  with  us  very  affection- 
ately. In  the  course  of  two  days  which  we  have  spent  at  the  castle  he 
several  times  pressed  my  hand  to  his  lips,  and  seemed  to  possess  all  the 
love  and  fervency  of  a  true  disciple  in  the  cause  in  which  he  is  engaged. 
If  his  personal  talents,  address,  and  management  were  equal  either  to  his 
genius  or  his  zeal,  his  influence  would  have  been  much  greater  even  than 
it  has  been.  Nevertheless,  the  period  of  his  life  and  labors  will,  I  fully 
believe,  be  hereafter  regarded  as  a  most  important  epoch  in  the  history  of 
education.  When  his  principles  come  to  be  more  generally  understood, 
they  will  be  found  to  contain  much  that  is  extremely  valuable.  It  is  to 
be  feared,  however,  that  many  years  will  still  elapse  before  the  world  is 
put  in  possession  of  a  complete  explanatory  view  of  his  whole  system. 
He  does  not  himself  possess  the  faculty  (as  Bucholz  informed  me)  of 
explaining  in  familiar  and  intelligible  terms  his  own  principles.  He  con- 
ceives with  wonderful  acuteness,  and  expresses  himself  in  language  of 
extraordinary  force  and  energy;  but  it  requires  a  deep  and  steady  atten- 
tion to  be  able  to  embrace  his  whole  meaning.  He  has  published* largely 
in  explanation  and  in  support  of  his  plans  of  instruction;  but  there  is  so< 
much  of  vernacular  pith — of  idiomatic  force  and  peculiarity  in  his  style 
and  manner,  as  to  render  it  rather  difficult  to  read  him,  and  still  more  so 
to  translate  his  writings.  He  is  now,  however,  anxious  to  have  all  his  works 
translated  into  English,  fully  believing  that  the  merit  of  his  plans  will  be 
better  understood,  and  his  principles  more  industriously  supported,  by  the 
English  nation  than  by  his  own  people.  His  career  has  been  maVked 
with  perplexities.  He  has  had  to  struggle  intensely  against  poverty,  neg- 
lect, prejudice,  and  gross  misrepresentation;  but  his  patience,  his  meek 
ness,  his  perseverance,  his  ardent  love  of  his  fellow-creatures,  have  borne 
him  through  all  his  trials;  and  notwithstanding  his  advanced  age  the 
reputation  of  his  school  is  now  as  high,  if  not  higher,  than  it  ever  has 
been.  Toward  those  who  have  generously  contributed  to  aid  him  in  his 
pecuniary  difficulties  his  heart  glows  with  the  liveliest  gratitude.  Of 
two  of  my  acquaintances,  one  of  London,  and  the  other  of  Philadelphia, 
who  had  thus  befriended  him,  he  could  not  speak  without  emotion. 

Prof.  Griscom,  in  his  account  of  Fellenberg's  Institution  at 
Hofwyl,  and  particularly  of  the  School  of  "Wehrli,  remarks,  that 
Pestalozzi's  methods  of  instruction  were  followed  in  both. 


PRIMARY  INSTRUCTION  BY  OBJECT  LESSONS 

REPORT   OF   COMMITTEE   ON    THE   PRIMARY   SCHOOLS 

OF    THE    CITY    OF    OSWEGO,    IN    NEW    YORK. 


THE  Committee  selected  by  the  Board  of  Education  of  the 
city  of  Oswego  to  attend  an  examination  of  the  primary  schools 
of  that  city,  held  on  the  llth,  12th,  and  13th  days  of  February, 
1862,  with  special  reference  to  an  investigation  of  the  system 
of  "Object  Teaching"  recently  introduced  into  said  schools,  and 
to  an  expression  of  opinion  thereon,  beg  leave  respectfully  to 

REPORT, 

That  the  system  in  question  is  designed  and  claimed  to  be  in 
accordance  with  those  principles  so  prominently  exemplified  by 
the  great  Swiss  educator,  Henry  Pestalozzi,  who  lived  and  labor- 
ed during  the  last  half  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Of  him  the 
Hon.  Henry  Barnard  justly  remarks  that,  "  Although  his  per- 
sonal labors  were  confined  to  his  native  country,  and  their  imme- 
diate influence  was  weakened  by  many  defects  of  character,  stillr 
his  general  views  of  education  were  so  sound  and  just  that  they 
are  now  adopted  by  teachers  who  never  read  a  word  of  his  life 
or  writings,  and  by  many  who  never  even  heard  his  name.  They 
have  become  the  common  property  of  teachers  and  educators 
throughout  the  world." 

These  principles  lie  down  deep  in  the  nature  of  man.  They 
recognize  the  great  truth  that  this  nature  is  threefold — material, 
intellectual,  moral,  and  that  it  has  its  laws  of  growth  and  devel- 
opment. Pestalozzi  believed,  as  we  believe  and  know,  that  hu- 
man beings  possess  affections  and  a  moral  sense  as  well  as  rea- 
son, and  intelligence,  and  sensation. 

NATURE    OP   EDUCATION. 

He  therefore  assumed  faith  and  love  as  the  only  true  founda- 
tion of  a  system  of  education.  He  asserts  that  education,  in  or- 
der to  fit  man  for  his  destination,  must  proceed  according  to  nat- 
ural laws ;  that  it  should  not  act  as  an  arbitrary  mediator  be- 
tween the  child  and  nature — between  man  and  God — but  that  it 
should  assist  the  course  of  natural  development  instead  of  doing 


40fi  OSWEGO  EDUCATIONAL  CONVENTION. 

it  violence ;  that  it  should  watch  and  follow  its  progress,  instead 
of  attempting  to  mark  out  a  path  agreeably  to  some  vague  pre- 
conceived system.  He  sought  to  develop  and  strengthen  the  fac- 
ulties of  the  child  by  a  steady  course  of  excitement  to  self-activ- 
ity, with  a  limited  degree  of  assistance  to  his  efforts. 

He  aimed  to  discover  the  proper  point  for  commencing  the  ed- 
ucation of  the  young,  and  then  to  proceed  in  a  slow  and  gradual, 
but  progressive  and  unbroken  course  from  one  step  to  another, 
always  waiting  until  the  preceding  steps  should  have  a  certain 
degree  of  distinctness  in  the  mind  of  the  child  before  entering 
upon  the  presentation  of  a  new  step. 

DISTINCTIVE   PRINCIPLES. 

Pestalozzi  believed  that  education  in  its  essence  consists  in  the 
harmonious  and  uniform  development  of  every  faculty,  so  that 
the  body  should  not  be  in  advance  of  the  mind  nor*the  mind  of 
the  body,  nor  should  the  affections  be  neglected;  and  that  prompt- 
itude and  skill  in  action  should,  as  far  as  possible,  keep  pace 
with  the  acquisition  of  knowledge.  He  required  close  attention 
and  special  reference  to  the  individual  peculiarities  of  each  child 
and  of  each  sex,  as  well  as  to  the  characteristics  of  the  people 
among  whom  he  lived,  to  the  end  that  each  might  be  educated 
for  that  sphere  of  activity  and  usefulness  to  which  the  Creator 
had  destined  him. 

He  regarded  Form,  Number,  and  Language  as  the  essential 
condition  of  definite  and  distinct  knowledge,  and  insisted  that 
these  elements  should  be  taught  inith  the  utmost  simplicity,  com- 
prehensiveness, and  mutual  connection. 

Pestalozzi,  as  well  as  Basedow,  desired  that  instruction  should 
begin  with  the  simple  perception  of  external  objects  and  their  re- 
lations. He  wished  that  the  art  of  observing  should  be  acquired. 
He  thought  the  thing  perceived  of  less  importance  than  the  cul- 
tivation of  the  perceptive  powers,  which  should  enable  the  child 
to  observe  completely,  and  to  exhaust  as  far  as  possible  the  sub- 
jects which  should  be  brought  before  him.  He  maintained  that 
every  subject  of  instruction  should  become  an  exercise  of  thought, 
and  that  lessons  on  form,  size,  number,  place,  etc.,  would  give 
the  best  occasion  for  it. 

He  thought  highly  of  arithmetic  as  a  means  of  strengthening 
the  mind,  and  he  also  introduced  Geometry  into  the  elementary 
schools,  with  the  arts  of  drawing,  designing,  and  modeling  grow- 
ing out  of  it. 


REPORT  OP  THE  COMMiTTEE. 


407 


He  would  train  the  hand,  tlie  eye,  the  touch,  and  the  senses 
<j*n<  rally,  without  which  there  can  be  no  high  executive  power 
in  the  arts  of  civilized  life. 

He  was  opposed  to  the  lifeless  repetition  of  the  rules  of  gram- 
mar, but  rather  aimed  at  a  development  of  the  laws  of  language 
from  within — at  a  knowledge  of  its  internal  nature,  structure, 
and  peculiar  spirit — thus  affording  the  means  not  only  for  culti- 
vating the  intellect,  but  for  improving  and  elevating  the  affec- 
tions. He,  as  well  as  other  educators  of  his  time,  introduced  vo- 
cal music  into  the  circle  of  school  studies  on  account  of  its  pow- 
erful influence  upon  the  heart.  Not  satisfied  with  singing  by 
rote,  he  included  in  his  course  of  instruction  the  elementary  prin- 
ciples of  music — Rhythm,  Melody,  and  Dynamics. 

He  discouraged  that  abuse  of  the  Socratic  method  which  at- 
tempted to  draw  something  out  of  children  before  they  had  re- 
ceived any  knowledge ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  recommended  in 
the  earliest  periods  of  instruction  the  established  method  of  dic- 
tation by  the  teacher  and  reproduction  by  the  pupil. 
I  Pestalozzi  strongly  repudiated  the  opinion  that  religious  in- 
struction should  be  exclusively  addressed  to  the  understanding. 
He  showed  that  religion  lies  deep  in  the  hearts  of  men,  and  that 
it  should  not  be  so  much  enstamped  from  without  as  developed 
from  within ;  that  the  basis  of  religious  emotion  is  to  be  found 
in  the  ch  ildish  disposition  to  love,  to  gratitude,  to  veneration,  to 
obedience  and  confidence  toward  parents ;  that  these  feelings 
should  be  cultivated,  strengthened,  and  directed  toward  God ; 
and  that  religion  should  be  formally  treated  of,  at  a  later  period, 
in  connection  with  the  feelings  thus  excited.  As  he  required  the 
mother  to  direct  the  first  development  of  all  the  faculties  of  her 
child,  he  assigned  to  her  especially  the  task  of  first  cultivating 
the  religious  feelings.  He  thought  that  mutual  affection  ought 
to  reign  between  the  educator  and  the  pupil,  whether  at  the  home 
or  school,  in  order  to  render  education  effectual  and  useful.  He 
was  not,  therefore,  disposed  to  uphold  school  despotism,  nor  did 
he  approve  of  special  incentives  addressed  to  emulation,  prefer- 
ring that  the  children  should  be  taught  to  find  their  own  highest 
and  best  reward  in  the  delights  of  knowledge  and  in  the  con- 
sciousness of  duty  done. 

THESE   PRINCIPLES   WORTHY    OF    ATTENTION'. 

Such  were  the  leading  views  and  principles  of  this  truly  great 
man ;  and,  with  all  the  faults  in  their  practical  application  by 


408  OSWEGO  EDUCATIONAL  CONVENTION. 

himself  in  the  eccentricity  of  his  character,  they  are  eminently 
worthy  of  the  profound  study  alike  of  tin-  parent,  the  teachei^ 
the  philanthropist,  and  the  Christian.  They  constitute  unques- 
tionably the  germs  of  that  great  system  of  means  for  the  com- 
plete evolution  of  the  varied  and  complex  forces  of  our  common 
nature  which  is  to  be — perchance  which  already  is. 

NATURAL  ORDER  OF  DEVELOPMENT  OF  THE  FACULTIES. 

The  Committee  believe  that  these  principles  seem  to  imply  the 
existence  of  a  great  comprehensive  law  or  order  of  development 
of  the  human  faculties,  together  with  a  corresponding  order  of 
succession  and  adaptation  in  the  scheme  of  truth  which  must 
constitute  the  objects  to  which  these  expanding  faculties  must 
address  themselves  as  the  inexorable  condition  of  their  develop- 
ment and  growth.  Without  stopping  to  argue  this  proposition,, 
but  desiring  merely  to  suggest  it,  the  Committee  commend  it  to 
the  profound  consideration  of  their  educational  brethren  every 
where.  If  this  proposition  be  true,  it  lies  at  the  basis  of  all  ed- 
ucational inquiry,  while  its  complete  elucidation  will  essentially 
determine  the  character  of  all  proper  educational  courses  and 
methods  of  procedure. 

What  the  character  of  the  primary  school  should  be,  what  its 
subjects  and  methods  of  instruction,  depends  upon  the  prelimi- 
nary questions : 

What  is  the  character  and  destiny  of  the  beings  to  be  trained 
therein  ?  What  is  the  condition  of  their  physical,  mental,  and 
emotional  powers?  and  what  kind  of  studies,  what  description 
of  knowledge,  what  exercises  are  best  suited  to  meet  the  wants 
and  exigencies  of  their  present,  while  having  reference,  also,  to 
their  future  condition  and  circumstances? 

SENSATION    AND   PERCEPTION. 

The  Committee  believe  it  to  be  the  generally  received  opinion 
that,  in  childhood,  all  positive  knowledge  comes  through  sensa- 
tion and  perception.  Sensation  arises  from  the  contact  of  our 
senses  with  the  outer  material  world.  Perception  is  the  refer- 
ence of  a  sensation  to  its  cause.  Sensations  lead,  through  ob- 
servations, to  conceptions.  Conceptions  form  the  basis  of  our 
reasoning,  and,  through  reason,  we  are  led  to  discover  our  rela- 
tions to  the  material  world,  to  our  fellow-men,  and  to  the  Cre- 
ator ;  and,  finally,  the  will,  as  the  executive  power,  enables  us  to 
act  according  to  the  dictates  of  reason,  of  conscience,  and  of  duty. 


KKIOUT  OF  Tin:  COMMIT  m:.  499, 

We-  li:i\  f  thus  hinted  at  what  many  believe  to  be  the  natural 
order  of  evolution  of  the  faculties: 

1st.  Perception  through  sensation. 

2d.  Conception  through  observation. 

3d.  Reasoning  upon  the  basis  of  our  conceptions,  ascending 
from  the  concrete  to  the  abstract,  from  the  simple  to  the  com- 
plex, from  the  known  to  the  unknown. 

4th.  Volition,  according  to  the  conclusion  reached  by  reason, 
acting  in  harmony  with  the  conscience  and  the  nobler  emotions 
and  impulses  of  our  nature. 

TRUE   ORDER    OF  STUDIES. 

Is  there  now  an  order  of  succession  of  studies,  or  of  the  sci- 
ences, corresponding  to  the  order  of  evolution  of  the  faculties  ? 
This  has  been  conclusively  shown,  we  think,  by  President  Hill, 
Professor  Joseph  Le  Conte,  and  others,  and  endorsed  by  the 
highest  scientific  and  literary  authorities  of  the  age.  The  ques- 
tion may  be  determined  from  at  least  three  different  stand-points  : 

1st.  From  the  history  of  the  rise  and  progress  of  knowledge 
among  men. 

2d.  From  a  careful  examination  of  the  relations,  connections, 
and  dependencies  of  the  different  special  sciences  to  each  other. 

3d.  From  an  investigation  of  the  adaptations  of  the  different 
sciences  to  the  progressive  wants  of  the  faculties  in  every  stage- 
of  their  development. 

All  these  fields  have  been  explored  by  able  men,  and,  from 
whichever  stand-point  the  investigation  proceeds,  the  conclusions 
reached  are  essentially  the  same,  and  they  seem  strikingly  to 
confirm  each  other.  Without  going  farther  into  this  question, 
it  may  be  remarked  that,  while  the  perceptive  faculties  are  the 
earliest  to  manifest  themselves  in  the  order  of  time,  so  those  sci- 
ences which  address  themselves  the  most  directly  to  these  fac- 
ulties, to  wit,  those  which  deal  with  ideas  of  space,  form,  size, 
number,  place,  weight,  color,  etc.,  are  the  simplest  of  all,  lie  at 
the  basis  of  all,  and  are  best  adapted  of  all,  as  experience  and 
reason  alike  show,  to  meet  the  demands  of  these  early  stages  in 
the  education  of  the  young. 

LAWS    OF    CHILDHOOD. 

In  childhood,  all  is  activity ;  the  senses  are  keenly  alive  to  ev- 
ery impression  made  upon  them ;  the  spirit  of  inquiry  is  awake, 
and  runs  abroad  in  every  direction  in  search  of  knowledge ;  the 


410  OSWEGO  EDUCATIONAL  CONVENTION. 

perceptive  powers  are  at  work — they  must  be  directed,  and,  if 
possible,  sharpened ;  the  imagination  riots  wildly  in  childish 
dreams — it  must  be  chastened  and  corrected  by  deliberate  and 
:sober  appeals  to  facts,  to  actual  things,  and  thus  gradually  en- 
ticed to  its  appropriate  work  of  aiding  in  the  formation  of  cor- 
rect conceptions ;  the  affections  are  fresh  and  warm  ;  the  confid- 
ing innocent  desires  to  live  and  move  in  an  atmosphere  of  kind- 
ness and  love ;  the  bodily  powers,  though  comparatively  weak, 
are  restless,  and  ever  panting  for  wholesome  employment. 

THE  TRUE  EDUCATIONAL  METHOD. 

The  question  is,  How  are  these  conditions,  so  perfectly  normal, 
to  be  met?  How  shall  the  development  of  the  child,  heretofore 
assisted  by  Nature's  own  method,  be  continued  and  perfected? 
How  shall  his  young  nature,  leaping  and  bounding  in  joyousness 
and  love,  reveling  in  the  pleasure  of  knowledge,  be  preserved  in 
its  freshness,  and  vigor,  and  purity  ?  Not,  surely,  by  forced  and 
unmeaning  strifes  with  mere  words  and  phrases,  not  by  the  me- 
chanical drudgery  of  loading  the  memory  with  dry  formulas  and 
senseless  rules,  not  by  the  mastication  of  rudimental  books,  nor 
by  those  endless  stripes  which  have  no  healing  power. 

This  question,  in  the  opinion  of  .the  Committee,  can  be  solved 
only  by  efforts  in  the  direction  to  which  these  suggestions  tend. 
Our  subjects  and  methods  of  instruction  must  be  naturalized. 
*  The  course  of  true  education  is  the  course  of  nature.  Man's 
method,  to  be  effective,  must  follow  God's  method."  As  surely 
as  our  Divine  Father  has  a  plan  in  creation,  so  surely  has  he  also 
a  plan  in  education.  By  the  light  of  history  and  revelation  we 
see  how  he  is  guiding,  instructing,  educating  the  human  race 
through  the  ages.  Aided  by  the  experiences,  the  discoveries, 
the  inventions,  the  sufferings,  the  reverses  of  past  generations, 
we  have  become  exalted  to  Heaven  in  respect  to  our  rights,  our 
privileges,  and  blessings. 

So  children  should  be  taught,  as  far  as  possible,  by  their  own 
actual  experience,  and  not  so  much  by  mere  dicta,  not  so  much 
by  taking  on  trust  what  others  say,  and  write,  and  print,  but  by 
more  frequent  and  persistent  intercourse,  or  experience,  if  you 
please,  with  those  objects,  qualities,  and  properties,  the  existence 
of  which  gives  to  language  so  much  of  its  force  and  utility. 

The  Committee  have  thought  it  due,  alike  to  the  occasion 
which  has  called  them  together,  as  well  as  to  the  important  move- 
ment which  has  here  been  inaugurated,  to  give  expression  some- 


REPORT  OF  THE  COMMITTEE.  4^ 

what  at  length  to  the  foregoing  views.  They  are  too  well  aware 
•of  the  obstacles  which  nearly  every  new  enterprise,  however  no- 
ble, is  doomed  to  encounter,  not  to  embrace  an  opportunity  so 
grave  as  the  present  to  give  it  a  substantial  and  hearty  support. 

AN    IMPORTANT   REVOLUTION    AT    HAND. 

The  examinations  which  it  has  been  their  high  privilege  to 
witness  during  the  present  week  have  impressed  them  with  the 
•conviction  that  we  are  on  the  eve  of  a  great  and  important  rev- 
olution in  the  education  of  our  country.  The  system  which  has 
been  developed  from  the  principles  herein  before  stated  is  yet  es- 
sentially foreign.  And  as  it  was  a  doctrine  of  Pestalozzi  him- 
self that  education,  to  be  true,  must  have  constant  reference  to 
the  character  of  the  people  among  whom  it  is  to  be  dispensed, 
:so  it  is  evident  that  the  system  which  has  been  exhibited  before 
us  is  yet  to  be  somewhat  modified — Americanized — to  meet  the 
peculiar  characteristics  of  our  people  and  country.  Systems  and 
methods  must  change,  "  but  principles  are  in  their  nature  eter- 
nal," says  Professor  Crosby ;  "  and  it  is  their  office  to  guide  and 
direct  amid  all  the  vicissitudes  of  circumstance,  condition,  event, 
fortune."  So,  while  adhering  to  the  unchanging  dicta  of  well- 
grounded  principle,  we  would  joyfully  accept  in  the  system  of 
methods  whatever  is  suited  to  our  special  wants,  characteristics, 
/and  circumstances  as  a  people. 

SUCCESS    OF   THE    EXPERIMENT    AT    OSWEGO. 

How  well  the  methods  presented  by  the  exhibitions  from  the 
Oswego  primary  schools  are  adapted  to  carry  out  the  theory 
upon  which  these  methods  are  based,  the  Committee  have  en- 
deavored to  give  their  professional  brethren  and  fellow-citizens 
at  a  distance  the  means  of  judging,  by  presenting  an  abstract  of 
each  exercise,  together  with  the  precise  aim  of  the  teacher  in 
each  case.  The  ages  of  the  children,  together  with  the  grades 
of  the  classes,  will  be  found  stated  in  the  proper  places.  The 
number  of  classes  presented  will  also  be  learned  by  an  examina- 
tion of  the  accompanying  statement.  It  will  be  observed  that  a 
wide  range  of  topics  was  developed  by  the  classes,  embracing 
lessons  of  various  grades,  on  Form,  Size,  Weight,  Color,  Place, 
Number,  Language,  Objects,  Plants,  Animals,  Shells,  and  includ- 
ing also  exercises  in  Phonic  Reading  and  Gymnastics. 

The  Committee  are  also  most  happy  in  bearing  testimony  to 
the  universal  fidelity  of  the  teachers  and  superintendent  to  that 

NIVERSITY 


412  OSWEGO  EDUCATIONAL  CONVENTION. 

cardinal  principle  of  Faith  and  Love  which  the  great  Pestalozzi 
affirmed  must  be  the  basis  of  all  true  education.  The  evidences 
of  mutual  kindness,  respect,  and  affection  between  teachers  and 
taught  have  been  too  palpable  to  be  questioned.  Let  these  de- 
voted teachers  rest  assured  that  they  are  laying  up  imperishable 
treasures  of  future  joy  and  gladness,  alike  for  themselves  and  the 
long  procession  of  the  generations  which  shall  rise  up  to  call 
them  blessed. 

[Previous  to  commencing  the  exercises  of  the  examination,  the  Secretary  of 
tlu-  liourd  of  Education  stated  that  the  primary  schools  of  Oswego  are  divided 
into  three  classes,  called  A,  B,  and  C.  The  C  class  is  the  lowest,  B  next,  and 
the  A  class  the  highest.  The  children,  on  entering  school,  are  placed  in  the  C 
class,  where  they  remain  under  the  same  teacher  for  one  year,  near  the  end  of 
which  time  an  examination  takes  place,  and  those  who  are  sufficiently  ad- 
vanced are  promoted  to  the  B  class  at  the  commencement  of  the  succeeding 
term,  where  they  remain  another  year ;  they  are  examined  again,  and  promoted 
to  the  A  class ;  toward  the  end  of  the  third  year  they  are  examined  for  promo- 
tions to  the  junior  schools.] 

EXAMINATION  EXERCISES. 

The  first  exercise  witm-s>cil  by  the  Committee  was  a  review  of  the  C  class, 
primary.  Ages  of  children,  6  to  7  years. 

LESSON  ON  FORM. 

The  children  stood  in  a  semicircular  line  on  one  side  of  the  table,  on  which 
were  placed  several  of  the  more  common  solids,  as  a  sphere,  a  cube,  a  cone,  etc. 
The  teacher  called  upon  the  children  to  distinguish  different  solids,  as  the 
sphere,  hemisphere,  cylinder,  cone,  and  cube,  and  to  give  their  names.  Then, 
holding  up  a  cylinder,  she  asked,  ''  What  is  this  called?" 

Children.   "A  cylinder." 

Teacfier.  "  Yes,  this  is  a  cylinder ;  and  when  we  see  any  object  of  this  shape 
we  say  it  is  cylindrical.  Now  look  about  the  room,  and  see  if  you  can  see  any 
thing  that  is  of  this  shape." 

C.  The  stove-pipe — the  post. 

T.  Yes ;  and  because  the  stove-pipe  and  the  post  are  of  this  shape,  we  call 
them— 

C  "Cylindrical." 

In  this  manner  the  terms  spherical,  conical,  etc.,  were  presented  to  the  chil- 
dren. 

The  teacher  placed  a  cube  before  the  children,  and  requested  them  to  name 
objects  of  that  form  ;  then  a  sphere,  and  to  name  objects  of  a  spherical  form, 
etc. 

Several  of  the  solids  being  placed  on  the  table,  the  teacher  naming  objects, 
as  orange,  stick  of  candy,  church  spire,  etc.,  the  children  would  say  which  solid; 
they  resembled  in  shape. 

To  show  that  the  children  understood  the  terms  face  and  surface,  they  were 
requested  to  touch  the  surface  of  a  sphere,  the  outside  of  a  sphere,  the  faces  of 
a  cube  and  of  a  cylinder ;  then  to  point  out  the  plane  and  curved  faces  of  dif- 
ferent solids ;  then  to  take  solids,  and  tell  by  what  faces  they  were  bounded. 


RBPORT  OF  T1IK  COMMITTEE.  4^3 

The  manner  of  conducting  this  exercise,  and  the  familiarity  manifested  with 
the  subject,  gave  evidence  that  the  children  possessed  a  knowledge  of  it  other 
than  that  derived  from  the  words  themselves.  The  second  exercise  was  a 

LESSON  ON  SIZE. 

Review  of  C  class,  primary.  Ages  of  children,  5  to  7.  They  had  attended 
school  nine  months;  have  had  instruction  in  size  during  some  eight  weeks, 
about  twenty  minutes  per  day. 

The  children  were  requested  to  hold  their  forefingers  one  inch  apart  while 
the  teacher  measured  the  space  between  them. 

Then  children  were  required  to  draw  lines  on  the  blackboard  an  inch  in  length, 
and  others  to  measure  them,  stating  whether  too  long,  too  short,  or  correct. 

Next  they  were  required  to  tear  papers  an  inch  in  length  ;  then  to  tear  them 
two  inches  in  length ;  then  to  fold  them  three  inches  in  length,  and  so  on,  the 
teacher  measuring  them  meanwhile.  At  least  two  out  of  each  three  tore  and 
folded  their  papers  of  the  exact  length  named. 

Then  the  children  were  requested  to  draw  lines  on  the  blackboard  one  foot 
in  length,  then  to  divide  them  into  twelve  inches. 

They  readily  measured  inches,  and  feet,  and  yards,  both  with  the  rule  and 
•with  the  eye,  and  drew  lines  representing  them,  showing  that  they  understood 
the  relations  of  these  to  each  other,  as  well  as  the  lengths  of  each. 

FORM  AND  SIZE. 

Review  of  A  class,  primary.     Ages  of  children  from  7  to  9. 

Teacher.  Find  me  a  solid  whose  surface  is  not  divided.  The  children  took 
from  the  table  spheres  and  spheroids. 

Teacher.  Find  me  a  solid  whose  surface  is  divided  into  two  parts  or  faces — 
one  divided  into  three  faces — one  divided  into  six  faces.  Now  a  solid  with  one 
plane  and  one  curved  face. 

In  each  case  the  children  selected  the  correct  object. 

The  teacher  then  called  upon  one  pupil  to  draw  upon  the  blackboard  the 
plane  face  of  a  square  two  inches  on  a  side ;  another  one  of  a  square  six  inches 
on  a  side ;  another  of  a  rhomb  two  inches  on  each  side  ;  an  equal  triangle  one 
inch  on  a  side ;  a  plane  face  of  a  cylinder  three  inches  in  diameter ;  a  square 
twelve  inches  on  a  side.  The  children  then  drew  lines  of  various  lengths,  as 
called  for  by  members  of  the  Committee ;  also  plane  figures  of  various  sizes,  and, 
among  others,  circles  two  feet  in  diameter,  then  of  two  feet  in  circumference. 

The  teacher  called  upon  the  children,  one  at  a  time,  to  select  laths  of  given 
lengths,  and  place  them  on  the  floor  so  as  to  represent  the  elevation  of  one  end 
of  a  house.  Another  pupil  drew  each  part  of  the  house  on  the  blackboard  as 
it  was  represented  by  the  laths. 

TUESDAY  AFTERNOON, 

LESSON  ON  FORM. 

Showing  the  transition  from  Form  to  Elementary  Geometry.  Review  of 
C  class,  junior.  Ages  of  children,  9  to  12. 

The  children  drew  lines  on  the  blackboard,  and  described  them.  They  rep- 
resented, and  then  gave  definitions  of  a  point,  straight  line,  length,  direction, 
and  of  the  distinction  between  different  kinds  of  angles. 


414  OSWEGO  EDUCATIONAL  CONVENTION. 

A  pupil  drew  upon  the  blackboard  a  horizontal  line,  and  an  oblique  one  in^ 
tersecting  the  first,  and  then  proceeded  to  demonstrate  that,  "if  two  straight 
lines  intersect  each  other,  the  opposite  or  vertical  angles  are  equal."  In  giving 
the  demonstration,  the  pupils  used  letters  to  designate  the  lines  and  angles. 
At  the  suggestion  of  one  of  the  Committee,  figures  were  substituted  for  the  let- 
ters, and  one  of  the  same  pupils  called  to  demonstrate  the  proposition.  The 
readiness  with  which  the  pupil  went  through  with  it,  using  figures  in  place  of 
letters,  was  very  satisfactory  to  the  audience,  their  approbation  being  mani- 
fested by  applause. 

LESSON  ON  COLOR 

Review  of  C  class.  Ages  of  children,  6  to  8.  Object  of  the  lesson — to  culti- 
vate the  perception  of  color. 

Worsted,  and  cards  of  various  colors,  were  placed  upon  the  table.  The  teach- 
er called  upon  one  child  to  select  all  the  reds,  and  place  them  together;  anoth- 
er, to  select  all  the  yellows,  and  place  them  together ;  another,  the  blues ;  an- 
other, the  greens,  etc. 

The  children  were  then  requested  to  name  all  the  red  objects  that  they  could 
see  in  the  room ;  then  those  of  the  other  colors  successively. 

Next,  one  child  was  called  upon  to  name  a  color,  and  another  to  name  an 
object  of  the  same  color.  Then  one  child  would  name  an  object,  and  another 
name  its  color. 

DISTINGUISHING    SHADES    AND   TINTS    OF   BLUE. 

The  teacher  next  proceeded  to  give  a  neiu  lesson  to  the  same  class,  the  object 
of  which  was  "to  teach  the  children  to  distinguish  blue,  audits  shades  and 
tints." 

The  teacher  requested  the  children  to  find  the  bluest  of  the  blue  objects  on, 
the  table.  They  having  selected  cards  which  the  teacher  pronounced  correct, 
she  took  tli"  cards,  told  them  all  to  close  their  eyes,  then  she  placed  the  same 
cards  upon  the  table  again  among  the  other  blue  ones,  and  requested  the  chil- 
dren to  find  them  again.  When  they  could  readily  select  the  bluest  cards,  the 
teacher  told  them  that  the  bluest  blue  is  called  the  standard  blue.  Then  the 
children  were  exercised  in  finding  the  standard  blue. 

Next,  two  cards  were  held  up,  one  dark  blue  and  one  light  blue,  and  the  chil- 
dren told  that  the  light  blue  is  called  a  tint  of  blue,  and  the  dark  blue  a  shade 
of  blue — the  tint  is  lighter  than  the  standard  blue,  and  the  shade  is  darker  than 
the  standard  blue.  Then  the  children  were  exercised  in  finding  tints  and  shades 
of  blue. 

LESSON  IN  MIXING  COLORS. 

Review  of  A  class,  primary.     Children  from  9  to  10  years  of  age. 

The  children  were  led  to  distinguish  primary,  secondary,  and  tertiary  colors 
from  mixing  colors.  The  teacher  held  up  vials  containing  liquids  of  red,  yel- 
low, and  blue.  She  then  mixed  some  of  each  of  the  red  and  yellow  liquids,  and 
the  children  said  the  color  produced  by  the  mixture  is  oranrjc.  She  then  mix- 
ed yellow  and  blue,  and  the  children  said  that  green  had  been  produced.  Then 
she  mixed  blue  and  red,  and  purple  was  the  result. 

The  teacher  printed  the  result  of  each  mixture  on  the  blackboard  thus : 


REPORT  OF  THE  COMMITTEE.  4l$ 

First  Colors,  or  Primaries.  Second  Colors,  or  .Secondaries. 

Red    4-  Yellow         =  Orange. 

Blue  +  Yellow         =  Green. 

Blue  +  Red  Purple. 

Next  she  proceeded  to  show  how  the  idea  and  term  tertiary  is  derived  from 
the  secondaries  by  mixing  the  secondaries,  and  printing  the  result  on  the  board 
as  before : 

Secondaries.  Third  Colors,  or  Terliaries. 

Green     +  Orange  Citrine. 

Orange  +  Purple  Russet. 

Purple    +  Green  =  Olive. 

After  the  children  had  read  over  in  concert  what  had  been  printed  on  the 
board,  it  was  erased,  and  the  pupils  were  required  to  state  from  memory  what 
colors  are  produced  by  mixing  primaries,  with  the  names  of  each  secondary ; 
also,  what  by  mixing  the  secondaries,  and  the  name  of  each  tertiary.  An  ex- 
ercise on  Harmony  of  Colors  was  then  given  to  the  same  class  of  children.  They 
were  requested  to  select  two  colors  that  would  look  well  together,  and  place 
them  side  by  side ;  then  two  were  placed  together  that  do  not  harmonize.  Dur- 
ing these  exercises,  the  teacher  printed  on  the  board, 

Primary  yellow  harmonizes  with  secondary  purph. 
"        red  "  "  "          yreen. 

11        blue  *'  orange. 

This  was  read  by  the  pupils,  then  erased,  and  the  individuals  were  called 
upon  to  state  what  color  will  harmonize  with  these  several  colors,  as  their 
names  were  respectively  given. 

TUESDAY  EVENING, 

The  exercises  were  held  in  Doolittle  Hall,  and  were  witnessed  by  a  large  au- 
dience. First  there  was  given  a 

LESSON  ON  OBJECTS— 5th  STEP, 

to  the  B  class,  junior  school,  the  aim  of  which  was  to  lead  the  children  to  dis- 
tinguish acids  from  alkalies,  and  to  show  some  of  the  effects  of  each. 

A  class  of  boys  and  girls  were  arranged  upon  the  stage  so  that  they  could  ob- 
serve the  vials  of  liquids  and  solids  upon  the  table  in  the  centre.  After  intro- 
ductory remarks  by  the  teacher,  alluding  to  the  classification  of  children  in 
school  according  to  their  knowledge,  she  requested  one  to  arrange  the  vials  upon 
the  table  into  classes.  He  placed  the  vials  containing  solids  in  one  group,  and 
those  containing  liquids  in  another.  The  teacher  remarked  that,  although  that 
was  one  way  to  classify  them,  yet  there  was  a  better  way,  and  that  was  by  tast- 
ing, placing  those  which  have  a  similar  taste  in  the  same  class. 

The  children  were  each  given  some  cream  of  tartar  to  taste ;  they  pronounced 
the  taste  sour.  The  name  of  the  substance  was  written  on  the  blackboard. 
Then  they  were  given  some  sal  soda  to  Taste,  and  they  said  it  tasted  "  bitter  and 
burning/'  The  name  of  this  was  written  on  another  part  of  the  board.  The 
teacher  then  told  the  children  that  we  called  those  substances  which  taste  sour 
acids,  and  wrote  the  word  acids  over  cream  of  tartar.  She  then  told  them  that 
the  name  for  those  substances  which  have  a  "bitter,  burning  taste,"  is  alkalies. 


416  OSWEGO  EDUCATIONAL  CONVENTION. 

This  word  was  written  over  sal  soda.  Then  the  children  were  given  some  vin- 
egar to  taste,  and  required  to  tell  in  which  column  its  name  should  be  written. 
They  gave  "acids."  The  teacher  proceeded  in  a  similar  manner  with  ley, 
pearlash,  tartaric  acid,  and  soda,  and  the  children  designated  the  column  in 
which  the  word  should  be  placed.  Some  oxalic  acid  was  produced,  and  the 
children  told  that  it  was  poison,  hence  should  not  be  tasted,  but  that  it  also  was 
sour,  and  requested  them  to  name  the  column  in  which  its  name  should  be  vvrit- 
•ten.  The  words  on  the  blackboard  were  written  thus  : 

ACIDS.  ALKALIES. 

Cream  of  tartar.  Sal  soda. 

Vinegar.  Ley. 

Tartaric  acid.  Pearlash. 

Oxalic  acid.  Soda. 

The  children  having  learned  a  distinction  between  acids  and  alkalies,  the 
teacher  produced  a  vegetable  dye,  obtained  by  boiling  a  purple  or  red  cabbage 
in  water.  She  poured  equal  quantities  into  two  glasses.  Into  one  of  these  she 
poured  some  acid,  and  into  the  other  a  little  alkali.  The  children  were  re- 
quired to  observe  the  effects  of  the  acid  and  of  the  alkali  upon  the  vegetable 
dye,  and  then  to  describe  these  effects. 

Children.  The  acid  turns  the  vegetable  dye  to  a  red.  The  alkali  changes  it 
to  a  yreen. 

Teacher.  Now  what  can  you  say  of  the  taste  of  acids? 

C.  They  taste  sour. 

The  teacher  now  wrote  on  the  board, "  Acids  have  a  sour  taste  " 

T.  What  can  you  say  of  the  effect  of  acids  upon  a  vegetable  dye  ? 

C.  Acids  turn  vegetable  dyes  to  red. 

The  teacher  wrote  this  on  the  board  also. 

T.  Now  what  can  you  say  of  the  taste  of  alkalies  ? 

C.  They  have  a  bitter,  burning  taste. 

T.  We  call  this  bitter,  burning  taste  of  alkalies  an  acrid  taste.  What  do  we 
call  the  taste  of  alkalies? 

C.  An  acrid  taste. 

The  teacher  wrote  on  the  board,  "Alkalies  have  an  acrid  taste." 

T.  What  can  you  say  of  the  effect  of  alkalies  upon  vegetable  dyes? 

C.  Alkalies  change  vegetable  dyes  to  green. 

This  was  also  written  on  the  board. 

Afterward  the  red  and  green  dyes  were  mixed,  when  the  whole  assumed  its 
original  color.  After  trying  similar  examples  with  other  acids  and  alkalies 
upon  the  purple  water  or  vegetable  dye,  the  children  were  told  that  acids  and 
alkalies  neutralize  or  destroy  each  other.  The  teacher  then  wrote  on  the  black- 
board, 

Adds  and  alkalies,  when  mixed  together,  neutralize  each  other. 

Next  a  bottle  partly  filled  with  soft  water  was  produced,  and  a  little  soft  soap 
added,  when  it  was  given  to  the  pupils  to  shake.  Soapsuds  were  produced.  A 
few  drops  of  acid  were  then  added  to  the  contents  of  this  bottle,  and  on  shaking 
it  again  the  suds  disappeared.  Then  a  little  ley  was  poured  into  it,  and  on 
being  shaken  suds  were  again  produced.  Then  the  children  were  led  by  an- 
other experiment  to  perceive  that  acids  and  alkalies  neutralize  each  other  when 
mixed. 


REPORT  OF  THE  COMMITTEE.  417 

A  few  other  experiments  were  tried,  illustrating  in  similar  methods  the  proc- 
es  of  teaching  children  things  and  ideas  before  the  words  of  description  are 
given.     Whenever  the  terms  or  words  given  by  the  pupils  in  describing  what 
they  saw  were  inappropriate,  these  were  corrected  by  the  teacher.* 

WEDNESDAY  MORNING, 

LESSON  ON  ANIMALS.— THE  SEAL.— 3d  STEP. 

This  was  a  new  lesson,  given  to  children  of  the  average  age  of  eight  years, 
from  the  C  class,  primary  school.  The  object  of  the  lesson  was  to  show  the 
children  how  the  parts  of  the  animal  are  adapted  to  the  habits  of  it. 

The  teacher  held  before  the  children  a  picture  of  the  seal,  upon  land,  by  the 
side  of  open  water. 

T.  Where,  in  this  picture,  do  you  see  the  animal  ? 

C.  On  the  land. 

T.  What  do  you  see  near  it  ? 

C.  Water. 

T.  Where  do  you  think  it  lives  ? 

C.  In  the  water. 

T.  Does  it  spend  all  of  its  time  in  the  water? 

C.  No  ;  it  spends  part  of  its  time  on  land. 

T.  What  other  animals  live  in  the  water  ? 

C.  Fishes. 

T.  Fish  breathe  by  taking  the  air  from  the  water  by  means  of  their  gills. 
The  water  and  air  passes  into  its  mouth,  and  the  water  passes  out  through  the 
gills.  The  seal  breathes  as  we  do,  therefore  he  can  not  remain  under  the  wa- 
ter as  fish  do.  His  head  must  be  above  the  water  to  breathe.  The  seal  feeds 
on  fish.  Now  can  you  tell  me  why  he  goes  into  the  water  at  all  ? 

C,  To  catch  fishes  for  food. 

The  teacher  now  printed  upon  the  blackboard,  "The  seal  can  live  in  water 
and  on  land."  This  was  read  by  the  children.  They  now  pointed  out  in  the 
picture  the  parts  of  the  seal,  and  described  their  shape.  In  developing  the  idea 
of  round,  the  teacher  showed  the  children  a  round  and  a  flat  object,  and  they 
named  the  one  which  most  nearly  resembled  the  shape  of  the  body. 

In  developing  the  idea  of  tapering,  the  children  were  requested  to  point  out 
the  largest  part  of  the  body,  and  the  smallest. 

T.  Why  does  the  seal  need  a  round,  tapering  body  ? 

To  develop  this  idea,  they  were  asked  which  boat  would  move  through  the 
water  most  easily,  one  with  a  blunt  end  or  one  with  a  sharp  end  ?  Their  atten- 
tion was  then  called  to  the  small  head  and  tapering  shoulders  of  the  seal,  and 
thus  to  its  adaptation  for  moving  through  the  water.  The  teacher  then  print- 
ed on  the  board, 

The  body  of  the  seal  is  round  and  tapering. 
This  was  read  by  the  children  in  concert. 

A  picture  of  a  fish  was  now  shown,  and  the  children  requested  to  observe  its 
shape.  The  teacher  then  led  them  to  compare  its  organs  of  progressive  motion 

*  At  the  close  of  this  lesson,  a  paper,  written  by  Miss  Jones,  of  London,  at  present  the  prin- 
cipal of  the  Training  School  in  Oswego,  was  read ;  also  an  address  was  delivered  by  N.  A. 
Calkins,  of  New  York.  Both  of  these  papers  may  be  found  at  the  close  of  this  report. 


418  OSWBGO  EDUCATIONAL  CONVENTION. 

with  those  of  the  seal,  and  to  observe  the  adaptation  of  these  organs  to  the  spe- 
cial purposes  for  which  they  are  designed. 

C.  The  seal  lias  broad,  flat  feet,  which  it  uses  to  aid  it  in  swimming. 

This  was  printed  on  the  blackboard. 

T.  "Why  would  not  fins  suit  the  seal  as  well  as  they  do  the  fishes? 

C.  Because  the  seal  could  not  go  on  land  with  fins. 

The  children  were  then  led  to  compare  the  covering  of  the  seal  with  that  of 
the  fish,  to  show  the  adaptation  of  the  warm  fur  to  its  mode  of  life.  Their  at- 
tention was  also  directed  to  the  intelligence  and  docility  of  the  seal,  and  the 
resemblance  of  its  head,  in  shape,  to  that  of  the  dog.  His  disposition  was  com- 
pared with  that  of  the  dog;  humane  feelings  excited  by  describing  the  manner 
of  hunting  and  killing  the  seals,  and  kindness  inculcated. 

As  a  summary,  the  children  read  what  had  been  written  on  the  board  ;  then 
repeated  it  after  it  had  been  erased. 

LESSON  ON  HORNS  OF  ANIMALS.— 4th  STEP. 

A  class,  primary.     Average  ages  10  years. 

The  object  of  the  lesson  was  to  give  a  general  idea  of  horns,  their  form,  po- 
sition, and  uses. 

Children  were  requested  to  name  animals  having  horns.  Afterward  the 
teacher  presented  to  them  pictures  of  a  cow,  goat,  and  a  deer,  and  the  class 
were  requested  to  observe  them  carefully,  and  to  state  how  their  horns  differ. 

C.  The  cow's  horns  have  no  branches ;  the  goat's  horns  have  no  branches ; 
the  deer's  horns  have  branches. 

T.  Look  at  the  form  of  the  horns. 

C.  The  horns  differ  in  form. 

To  lead  the  children  to  the  idea  of  horns  differing  in  position,  lines  were 
drawn  upon  the  blackboard  in  different  positions.  When"  this  idea  had  been 
gained,  their  attention  was  directed  to  the  position  of  the  horns  of  the  cow. 
These  were  described  as  being  placed  on  each  side  of  the  head,  and  slanting  w/v 
ward  and  outward. 

The  horns  of  the.  goat  were  described  as  placed  on  the  top  of  the  head,  and 
slant  upicard.  and  backward. 

The  horns  of  the  deer  are  placed  on  the  top  of  its  head,  and  slant  in  different  di- 
rections. These  descriptions  were  printed  on  the  blackboard. 

To  develop  the  idea  of  the  shape  of  the  cow's  horns,  a  pair  of  horns  was  pre- 
sented, and  the  children  requested  to  describe  them. 

C.  The  horns  of  the  cow  are  round,  large  at  the  base,  and  tapering. 

The  teacher  not  having  a  pair  of  goat's  horns  present,  pointed  to  the  picture, 
and  told  the  children  that  the  horns  of  the  goat  are  more  slender,  and  less 
curved  than  those  of  the  cow. 

Deer's  horns  were  shown,  and  described  as  spreading  out  like  the  branches 
of  a  tree.  The  children  were  led  to  observe  that  the  cow's  horns  are  hollow, 
while  those  of  the  deer  are  solid.  They  were  told  that  the  goat's  horns  were 
also  hollow ;  and  that,  while  the  cow's  and  goat's  horns  were  fixed,  or  remained 
permanent  upon  the  heads  of  these  animals,  the  horns  of  the  deer  are  shed  ev- 
en- year,  new  ones  growing  each  summer. 

The  attention  of  the  children  was  called  to  the  uses  of  horns  to  animals  as 
weapons  of  defense,  and  of  their  uses  to  man  in  the  manufacture  of  combs  and 
various  other  articles. 


REPORT  OF  THE  COMMITTEE.  419 

LESSON  ON  SHELLS— 3d  STEP  OF  OBJECTS. 

Given  to  a  C  class,  primary  ;  ages  of  children  5  to  6  years. 

Object  of  the  lesson  was  to  lead  the  children  to  observe  the  parts  of  the  shell, 
also  to  perceive  the  appropriateness  of  the  names  given  to  the  parts. 

The  teacher,  holding  up  a  shell  before  the  class,  told  them  that  an  animal 
once  lived  in  that  shell,  and  then  asked,  "What  do  you  live  in?" 

Children.  Houses. 

T.  This  was  the  house  of  an  animal.  Now  I  want  you  to  look  at  it,  and  see 
if  you  can  find  different  parts  of  this  shell.  James  may  point  to  some  part  of  it. 

The  boy  touched  the  small  point  at  one  end.  The  teacher  said  this  part  is 
called  the  apex  of  the  shell.  Now  point  to  the  apex  of  this  cone;  of  the  pyra- 
mid. The  word  apex  was  now  printed  on  the  blackboard. 

Mary  may  touch  some  other  part  of  the  shell.  She  put  her  finger  upon  the 
largest  part,  or  body  of  it ;  and  the  teacher  said,  this  is  called  the  body  of  the 
shell,  and  printed  the  word  on  the  board. 

Pointing  to  the  whorl  on  the  shell,  the  teacher  said,  "  Look  at  this ;  see  how 
it  winds  around  the  shell ;  this  part  looks  as  if  it  whirled  around,  so  we  call  it 
the  ichor  I."  This  word  was  also  printed  on  the  board. 

The  opening  of  the  shell  was  pointed  at,  and  the  children  asked  to  give  it  a 
name.  No  one  replied,  and  the  teacher  requested  a  boy  to  open  his  mouth, 
and  the  other  children  to  look  at  it,  upon  which  several  of  them  suggested  the 
word  mouth  as  a  good  name  for  the  opening  of  the  shell.  This  was  printed  on 
the  board,  and  the  children  told  that  it  is  the  name  for  that  part  of  the  shell. 

Next  the  edges  of  the  mouth  were  pointed  at,  and  the  children  referred  to 
parts  of  their  own  mouths  for  a  name.  Lips  was  readily  given,  and  printed  OR 
the  board. 

The  groove  leading  to  the  mouth  was  pointed  at,  and  the  children  told  to 
call  it  a  canal.  The  word  was  then  printed. 

The  attention  of  the  children  was  directed  to  the  lower  part  of  the  shell,  con- 
taining the  canal,  and  the  children  asked  if  they  had  ever  seen  any  part  of  a 
bird  that  resembled  it  in  shape.  "The  bird's  beak,"  was  the  replv.  "That 
is  right;  and  we  will  call  this  the  beak  of  the  shell,"  said  the  teacher.  This 
word  was  also  printed  on  the  board. 

A  child  was  now  called  to  take  the  shell  and  point  out  the  parts  as  the  chil- 
dren named  them.  The  teacher  pointed  out  the  parts,  and  the  children  named 
them. 

LESSON  ON  SHELLS— 4th  STEP  OF  OBJECTS. 

Given  to  an  A  class,  primary,  ten  children.     Ages  8  to  10. 

Object  of  the  lesson,  to  show  the  use  of  shells,  their  formation,  and  general 
classification. 

The  children  were  shown  several  shells,  and  asked  where  they  are  found. 

Children.  On  the  lake-shore,  the  sea-shore,  and  in  rivers. 

T.  How  arc  shells  obtained  from  the  sea  ? 

C.  The  waves  wash  them  on  shore. 

T.  The  creatures  found  inside  of  the  shell  are  called  mollusks.  The  word 
was  written  on  the  blackboard,  and  the  children  told  that  it  means  soft.  To 
develop  this  idea,  the  children  were  directed  to  press  their  fingers  upon  their 


420  OSWEOO  KDfCATIOXAL  CONVENTION. 

cheeks,  then  upon  their  forehead,  and  to  tell  how  they  feel.  They  were  asked 
whether  they  had  seen  oysters,  and  how  they  feel;  and  why  they  feel  soft? 
The  answer  obtained  was  that  the  oyster  has  no  bones. 

T.  What  can  we  say  of  the  oyster  because  it  has  no  bones  ? 

C.  It  is  boneless. 

The  teacher  printed  on  the  board,  and  the  children  repeated  together, 
Mo  Husks  are  soft  and  boneless. 

The  children  were  referred  to  the  white  cold  fluid  or  blood  of  the  oyster,  and 
it  was  compared  with  their  own  red  warm  blood. 

The  teacher  wrote  on  the  blackboard, 

The  blood  of  the  viollusk  is  cold  and  colorless, 
and  the  children  repeated  it  together. 

The  shells  were  given  to  the  children  to  examine,  and  see  if  they  could  tell 
of  what  materials  they  are  made,  and  who  made  them.  To  develop  the  idea 
of  their  formation,  a  piece  of  chalk  was  shown,  and  the  children  told  that  one 
of  the  substances  of  which  the  shell  is  made  was  like  that.  They  were  asked 
if  a  shell  made  of  so  brittle  a  substance  would  be  strong.  The  children  were 
now  told  that  the  shell  is  made  of  lime  which  is  obtained  from  the  water,  and 
this  is  mixed  with  a  gluey  substance,  which  the  mollusk  obtains  from  a  portion 
of  its  own  body,  to  stick  it  together.  They  were  shown  the  smooth,  polished 
outside  of  the  shell,  and  told  that  the  mantle  which  covers  it  deposits  a  sub- 
stance which  hardens  and  forms  the  beautiful  polished  surface.  The  children 
were  also  told  how  the  little  mollusk  increases  the  size  of  its  shell  from  year  to 
year,  as  the  animal  itself  grows  larger,  by  making  additions  on  the  edge  of  the 
shell.  Sometimes,  when  the  shells  are  dashed  against  the  rocks  by  the  waves 
and  broken,  the  mollusk  re j wins  the  broken  part. 

The  idea  that  the  shells  arc  a  means  of  defense  for  the  mollusk  was  devel- 
oped, and  the  teacher  wrote  on  the  board, 

Shells  serve  as  a  house  and  armor  to  the  mo//>isl>\ 

and  the  children  repeated  it.  Following  this,  the  idea  of  God's  wisdom  and 
goodness  was  presented  in  providing  every  thing  so  wisely  for  these  little  animals. 

The  teacher  also  gave  some  exercise  in  the  classification  of  shells  into  uni- 
valves, bivalves,  and  multivalves.  And,  as  a  summary,  the  pupils  read  from  the 
•blackboard, 

Shelh  are  inhabited  by  animals  called  moflusks. 

Mollusks  are  sq/l  and  boneless. 

The  blond  of  the  nio/hisk  /.«>•  cold  and  colorless. 

Shel/s  nre  cowjiosed  of  Ihne  and  a  kind  of  nlucy  substance. 

Sheila  serve  as  a  house  and  armor  to  the  molln>k. 

WEDNESDAY  AFTERNOON, 

Exercises  were  held  in  the  school-room. 

LESSON  ON  PLACE. 

A  review  of  a  C  class,  primary.     Ages  of  children  G  to  7  years. 
The  Object  of  the  lesson  was  to  distinguish  and  define  place,  as  nearer,  farther, 
between,  to  the  right,  to  the  left. 

2d.  To  represent  objects  in  these  relations. 

3d.  To  distinguish  the  cardinal  and  semi-cardinal  points. 


KU'OKT  OF  THE  COMMITTEE.  421 

First,  objects  were  placed  on  a  table,  and  the  children  requested  to  observe 
the  position  of  each,  after  which  the  teacher  would  remove  them,  and  call  upon 
individuals  to  put  them  in  the  same  position  again.  Then  the  position  of  these 
objects  on  the  table  were  represented  by  drawing  on  a  slate  held  in  a  horizontal 
position.  Then  the  same  positions  were  represented  by  drawings  on  the  black- 
board. Children  were  called  upon  to  point  with  their  fingers ;  also  to  walk  in 
different  directions ;  also  to  tell  in  what  direction  they  must  walk  to  go  from 
their  seat  to  some  given  part  of  the  room.  The  teacher  would  name  a  point 
of  compass,  and  request  the  children  to  point  toward  it,  while  she  would  point 
in  some  other  direction.  This  made  each  pupil  think  and  act  for  himself. 

LESSON  ON  PLACE. 

Given  to  the  A  Class,  primary.     A  review.     Children,  average  age  9  years. 

An  outline  map  of  the  city  of  Oswego  was  placed  before  the  class,  and  the 
children  were  required  to  point  out  the  various  localities,  tell  the  distance  of  one 
from  another,  the  direction  in  which  a  person  must  go  in  proceeding  from  one 
place  to  the  other.  The  outline  map  was  drawn  on  a  scale  of  one  foot  to  the 
mile ;  the  pupils  ascertained  distances,  after  estimating  by  the  eye,  by  taking 
a  tape  measure  and  ascertaining  the  number  of  feet  from  one  point  to  the  other. 

A  drawing  of  the  school-room  made  to  a  scale,  previously  placed  upon  the 
blackboard,  was  exhibited. 

Rivers,  lakes,  canals,  dams,  locks  in  canals,  etc.,  were  described  by  the  pupils 
in  answer  to  questions  by  members  of  the  Committee. 

LESSON  ON  NUMBER. 

A  review  of  the  C  class,  primary.     Ages  of  children  6  to  7  years. 

The  object  of  this  exercise  was  to  show  how  addition,  subtraction,  and  multi- 
plication are  worked  out  writh  objects. 

The  children  were  arranged  in  front  of  a  shelf  containing  pebbles  in  boxes 
or  compartments.  The  teacher  said  to  the  first  pupil,  "  I  will  give  you  1  peb- 
ble ;  how  many  must  you  add  to  it  to  make  ten?" 

To  the  next  she  said,  "I  will  give  you  3  pebbles  ;  how  many  must  you  add 
to  these  to  make  ten  ?" 

To  the  next,  "I  will  give  you  2  pebbles;  how  many  must  you  add  to  make 
ten?" 

The  children  would  proceed  to  take  other  pebbles  from  the  boxes,  and  count- 
ing, add  enough  to  make  ten.  As  each  finished  the  number,  the  hand  would 
be  raised.  When  all  had  completed  the  number  assigned,  the  teacher  com- 
menced by  asking  the  first  pupil,  "  How  many  did  I  give  you  ?" 

Child.  "One." 

T.  "  How  many  did  you  add  to  make  ten?" 

C.  "Nine." 

T.  (To  the  next  pupil.)  "How  many  did  I  give  you?" 

C.  "Three." 

T.  "  How  many  did  you  add  to  make  ten  ?" 

C.  "Seven." 

In  this  manner  the  teacher  kept  all  the  pupils  at  work,  and  each  at  work  on 
a  separate  problem.  Subsequently  the  pupils  were  requested  to  see  in  how 
many  ways  they  could  arrange  given  numbers.  One  was  to  arrange  the  num- 


422  OSWEGO  EDUCATIONAL  CONVENTION. 

ber  Jive  in  as  many  ways  as  possible,  as  4  and  1,  2  and  3,  2  and  2  and  1,  2 
and  1  and  I  and  1,  1  and  3  and  1,  etc.  Another  was  told  to  arrange  six,  an- 
other seven,  another  eight,  in  as  many  ways  as  they  could  with  the  pebbles. 

The  teacher  gave  them  numbers,  and  then  told  them  to  take  away  less  num- 
bers, as,  "1  give  you  8  pebbles;  take  away  5,  and  tell  me  how  many  re- 
main," etc. 

The  teacher  having  placed  six  marks  on  the  board  thus,  j  |  |  |  |  |  ,  rub- 
bed out  two,  and  asked,  "  What  have  I  done  ?" 

C.  ''Rubbed  out  two  marks." 

T.  "  How  many  marks  remain  ?" 

C.  "Four  marks." 

T.  "  What  may  you  say,  then  ?" 

<?.  "  Tico  from  six  leaves  four." 

Then  seven  and  eight  marks  were  treated  in  the  same  way. 

Again,  the  teacher  gave  them  2  and  2  and  2,  to  state  how  many  3  twos  are. 
Then  she  asked  how  many  are  4  twos,  2  threes,  5  twos.  In  each  instance  the 
pupils  represented  the  numbers  by  arranging  pebbles  in  groups  corresponding 
with  these  numbers. 

This  exercise  was  followed  by  a  lesson  to  show  how  children  were  first  taught 
multiplication.  The  teacher  placed  two  pebbles  on  the  table,  then  two  more, 
and  asked,  "How  many  pebbles  were  on  the  table?" 

C.  "Four  pebbles." 

The  teacher  then  made  two  marks  on  the  board,  then  two  more,  thus: 
||  ||,  and  asked,  "  How  many  are  two  marks  and  two  marks?" 

C.  "Four  marks." 

Then  the  teacher  placed  three  pebbles  on  the  table,  then  three  more,  and 
asked,  "How  many  pebbles  are  on  the  table?" 

C.  "Six  pebbles." 

She  then  made  three  marks  thus,  |  |  |  |  |  |  ,  and  asked,  "  TJiree  marks 
and  three  marks  are  how  many  marks?" 

C.  "Six  marks." 

Subsequently  the  teacher  would  change  the  question  by  saying,  "How  many 
are  two  times  two  pebbles ?"  "  How  many  are  two  times  two  marks?"  etc. 

LESSON  ON  NUMBERS. 

Given  to  the  A  class,  primary.     Age  of  children  8  to  9  years. 
The  design  of  the  lesson  was  to  show  the  relations  between  addition,  multi- 
plication, and  division. 

The  teacher  wrote  on  the  blackboard,  and  the  children  repeated  the  fol- 
lowing : 

3+3=6,  6-1-3=9,  9+3=12,  12+3  =  15,  etc.,  up  to  99.     Then  the  teacher 
wrote  99-3  =  96,  96-3=93,  and  so  on  down  to  6-3  =  3. 
Then  6  +  6  =  12,  12—6  =  2, 

6  +  6  +  6  =  18,  18—6=3, 

6  +  6+6  +  6=24,  24— 6=4,  and  so  on. 
The  children  read  6  +  6  =  12,  two  times  6  are  12,  etc. 

7  +  7  =  14,  14—7=2, 

7  +  7-1-7  =  21,  21—7  =  3, 

7  +  7+7  +  7  =  28,  28— 7=4,  and  so  on  to  100. 


REPORT  OF  THE  COMMITTEE.  423 


Children  read  7  +  7  =  14,  two  times  7  are  14.      14  divided  by  7  =  2. 
7=21,  three  times  7  are  21.     21  divided  by  7=3. 

Such  lessons  as  these  the  children  placed  upon  their  slates  while  at  their 
seats  between  class  exercises. 

LESSON  ON  LANGUAGE. 

Given  to  the  C  class,  primary.     Age  of  children  7  to  9  years. 
The  children  were  requested  to  name  something  that  is  hard.     They  men- 
tioned, and  the  teacher  wrote  on  the  board  the  following  : 

Coal  is  hard. 
Wood  is  hard. 
Gold  is  hard. 
Iron  is  hard. 

The  teacher  inquired  if  any  one  in  the  class  could  tell  her  how  to  write  the 
same  in  one  sentence.  Several  hands  were  raised,  and  one  pupil  said,  "Coal, 
wood,  gold,  and  iron  are  hard.'1  This  was  written  upon  the  board. 

Then  the  pupils  were  asked  to  tell  some  quality  of  glass.  They  repeated, 
and  the  teacher  wrote  upon  the  board, 

Glass  is  colorless. 
Glass  is  hard. 
Glass  is  transparent. 
Glass  is  brittle. 
Glass  is  smooth. 

Then  the  pupils  were  requested  to  tell  how  to  write  these  qualities  in  one 
sentence.  They  said,  "Glass  is  colorless,  hard,  transparent,  brittle,  and 
smooth."  This  sentence  was  placed  on  the  board. 

LESSON  ON  LANGUAGE. 

Given  to  the  A  class,  primary.     Ages  9  to  10  years. 

This  lesson  in  language  was  designed  to  teach  the  pupils  discrimination  in 
the  use  of  descriptive  words. 

The  children  were  to  give  any  term  which  may  be  used  in  describing  a  face, 
and  the  teacher  wrote  them  on  the  board  as  mentioned.  They  gave  pretty, 
homely,  white,  rosy,  freckled,  wrinkled,  blushing,  happy,  bashful,  sad,  pale,  cheer- 
ful, thin,  sorrowful,  sour,  ugly. 

When  a  sufficient  number  of  words  had  been  written  upon  the  board,  the 
teacher  called  up  a  pupil  to  mark  each  word  that  may  be  used  to  describe  one 
face.  The  first  pupil  marked  words  making  the  following  description  :  "Hap- 
py, thin,  wrinkled,  pleasant,  pale,  pretty,  white,  cheerful  face." 

Another  marked  "  Ugly,  freckled,  homely,  sour  face." 

When  one  of  the  pupils  chanced  to  mark  words  that  expressed  opposite  qual- 
ities, as  pretty,  homely,  cheerful,  sour,  the  others  made  the  correction. 

THURSDAY  MORNING. 

The  exercises  of  this  forenoon  were  held  in  the  school-room.  The  opening 
exercise  was  a  lesson  in  Moral  Instruction.  The  teacher  placed  a  colored  en- 
graving (representing  Moses  stretching  his  arm  over  the  Red  Sea,  the  children 
of  Israel  crossing  over  on  dry  land,  and  the  pillar  of  fire)  on  a  stand,  in  view 


424  08WEGO  KUUU.YTluNAI.  <  ONVEOTIOK 

of  the  entire  school.  The  teacher  read  a  simple  description  of  this  event  from. 
a  little  volume  entitled  "Line  upon  Line,"  then  called  upon  several  of  the  chil- 
dren to  point  ont  on  the  pieture  the  objects  mentioned  in  the  lesson  from  the 
book,  nlso  to  an>wer  questions  relative  to  the  event.  At  the  close  of  this  exer- 
cise the  school  arose  and  repeated  together  the  Lord's  Prayer.  The  entire  ex- 
ercise seemed  very  interesting  to  the  children,  all  of  whom  gave  strict  attention, 
and  it  was  a  beautiful  sight  to  the  observers. 

OBJECT  LESSON.— 3d  STEP. 

Given  to  the  C  class,  primary.     Children  6  to  7  years  of  age. 

The  object  of  the  lesson  was  to  develop  one  quality — the  idea  of  maUeabMUifr 
and  give  the  term.' 

The  children  were  shown  pieces  of  lead,  and  asked  to  say  something  about  it. 

Children.  Lead  is  heavy.  Lead  is  gray.  Lead  shines  when  cut.  Lead  is 
opaque.  Lead  is  tenacious. 

The  children  handle  the  lead,  passing  it  around.  The  teacher  beats  a  piece 
of  lead  with  a  hammer,  and  having  flattened  it  so  that  it  is  quite  thin,  she 
shows  it  to  the  children  again.  They  say  it  lias  been  tlattcned.  Tin-  teacher 
then  added,  ''Lead  will  flatten  by  Ix-ing  Ix-atcn,  and  because  we  can  flatten  it 
by  beating  it  we  say  had  is  mmUeMl."  The  children  repeat  this. 

Next  the  teacher  pounded  a  stone,  and  asked  if  it  would  flatten  by  beating 
it.  She  then  a-ked.  "  N  the  stone  malleable?" 

C.    Stcn.-  i-  not  malleable. 

/.    Why? 

C.  Because  we  can  not  flatten  it  by  beating  it. 

The  teacher  then  pounded  a  piece  of  chalk,  that  the  children  might  see  that 
we  can  not  flatten  it  as  we  can  lead,  and  hence  that  is  not  called  malleable. 
The  pupils  were  now  requested  to  mention  other  objects  that  are  malleable. 
They  having  named  several,  she  inquired,  ''Why  are  these  objects  said  to  be 
malleable  ?" 

C.  I»ecau-e  we  can  flatten  them  by  beating  them. 

The  teacher  and  pupils  then  icjKiated  together,  Any  thing  that  can  be  flattened 
by  beatimj  it  is  said  to  be  malleable. 

LESSON  ON  ANIMALS.— THE  IBIS.— 3d  STEP. 

Given  to  a  C  class,  primary.  Ages  7  to  8.  The  object  of  the  lesson  was  to 
show  parts,  and  the  adaptation  of  these  to  the  habits,  mode  of  life,  etc. 

The  teacher  held  the  picture  of  the  ibis  before  the  children,  and  called  upon 
one  to  come  and  point  out  some  part  of  the  bird.  The  child  pointed  to  the  head. 

T.  What  can  you  say  of  the  head  of  the  ibis? 

C.  The  ibis  has  a  small  head. 

Another  comes  and  points  to  the  eyes,  and  says,  "The  ibis  has  small  eyes.'' 
Another  points  to  its  beak,  and  says,  "The  ibis  has  a  long,  curved,  tapering, 
sharp  beak." 

T.  Why  do  you  say  the  beak  is  tapering? 

C.  Because  it  is  smaller  at  one  end  than  it  is  at  the  other. 

The  children  were  requested  to  observe  the  neck,  and  one  was  called  to  point 
to  it  in  the  pieture  and  describe  it. 

C.  The  ibis  has  a  long,  slender  neck." 


KKl'..l;T  «>!••    rill.  i;i»MMUTEIi  425- 

T.  What  can  you  say  of  its  legs? 

C.  It  has  long  slender  legs. 

T.  Where  do  you  think  it  lives? 

C.    In  >wampy  places. 

T.   Why? 

C.   Because  ir  has  long  legs. 

T.  Why  dot-s  it  need  a  long  neck  ? 

C.  To  reach  down  in  the  water  and  mud  to  pet  its  food. 

'/"    Why  would  not  short  legs  do  as  well  ? 

' '.   Tin-  waves  would  wash  him  away. 

T.   Why  does  he  have  a  long  beak  ? 

(7.   So  it  can  reach  its  food  without  putting  its  head  under  the  water. 

OBJECT  LESSON.— PEPPER. 

Given  to  an  A  class,  primary.     Ages  of  children  1)  to  10. 

Object  of  the  lesson  to  develop  qualities  of  the  object.  Grains  of  pepper  are 
shown  to  the  children.  They  say  it  is  vegetable.  The  teacher  prints  on  the 
board,  Pcftper  is  a  vegetable. 

The  children  say  it  is  hard.  One  of  them  spells  hard,  while  the  teacher  prints, 
Pepper  is  hard. 

After  tasting  it,  they  say,  "Pepper  is  biting — pungent."  This  is  printed  on 
the  board  as  the  children  spell  the  words. 

T.  Why  do  you  say  pepper  is  pungent  ? 

C.  Because  it  has  a  burning  ta- 

T.  Can  you  think  of  any  thing  else  that  can  be  said  of  pepper  ? 

C.  It  is  black.     It  is  rough.     It  is  spherical. 

These  sentences  were  placed  on  the  board  as  the  words  were  spelled.  All- 
spice was  shown  them,  and  the  two  compared.  They  said,  "Pepper  is  rough, 
and  allspice  is  -inooth." 

T.  What  can  you  say  of  its  uses  ? 

C.  It  is  used  tor  preserving  things. 

T.  What  els2  may  be  said  of  it  ? 

C.  Pepper  is  stimulating,  because  it  has  a  burning  taste.     It  is  wholesome. 

T.  It  grows  iu  very  warm  countries,  hence  we  say  it  is  tropical.  It  does  not 
grow  in  our  country,  so  we  say  it  is  foreign. 

This  was  followed,  as  usual,  with  a  brief  summary  of  what  had  been  gone 
over,  to  fix  the  important  points  in  the  memory. 

A  CLASS  FROM  A  COUNTRY  SCHOOL  INTRODUCED. 

In  accordance  with  a  request  of  the  Committee  of  Examination,  and  that 
they  might  see  the  first  steps  in  teaching  children  who  have  never  had  any  in- 
struction by  the  system  of  Object  Lessons,  a  class  of  children  was  procured  from- 
a  school  out-id.-  i,f  the  ri-y  and  placed  before  one  of  the  teachers. 

There  was  placed  on  the  table  before  them  cubes,  spheres,  cylinders,  cones, 
and  other  solids. 

The  attention  of  the  children  was  first  called  to  a  sphere.  They  were  told  ta 
oUerv  •  it-  -hape ;  then  its  name  was  told  them,  and  they  required  to  repeat 
it.  Then  they  \\vir  requested  to  s?lect  a  sphere  from  the  objects  on  the  table; 
then  to  point  to  other  ol>j  •(••*  having  the  same  shape.  The  children  having: 


426  OSWEGO  EDUCATIONAL  CONVENTION. 

learned  to  distinguish  this  form,  their  attention  was  called  to  the  cylinder,  and 
they  were  led  to  select  others  like  it.  Then  its  name  was  told  them.  After- 
ward they  were  requested  to  look  about  the  room  and  find  something  that  had 
the  shape  of  the  cylinder.  The  children  pointed  to  the  stove-pipe,  also  to  the 
pillars  in  the  centre  of  the  school-room.  It  was  observed  that  the  children  dis- 
tinguished resemblances  in  different  objects  much  more  readily  at  the  close  of 
the  exercise  than  at  its  commencement. 

The  same  class  was  next  placed  in  charge  of  another  teacher.  She  under- 
took to  develop  the  idea  of  vegetable. 

A  small  rose-bush  was  shown  them,  and  they  were  asked  if  they  had  ever 
•seen  any  thing  like  it  before.  Then  they  were  requested  to  name  some  other 
plant  which  they  had  seen.  They  mentioned  rose-bush,  gooseberry,  currant. 
They  were  asked  what  plants  they  eat  which  grow  in  the  garden,  and  their  re- 
ply was  "Cabbage." 

They  were  shown  a  picture  of  a  leaf  and  a  real  leaf,  and  an  effort  was  made 
to  teach  them  to  express  a  distinction  between  them  ;  but  it  was  discovered  that 
they  were  German  children,  and  had  learned  so  little  of  our  language  that  the 
teacher  must  explain  new  words  which  expressed  qualities  to  them  in  German 
•before  they  could  comprehend  them. 

THURSDAY  AFTERNOON, 

Exercises  were  held  in  the  Court-house,  and  devoted  to 

PHONETIC  READING. 

Exercises  were  given  with  a  C  class,  primary,  in  the  1st,  2d,  3d,  and  4th  steps. 

1st  Step.  Teaching  letters  by  their  forms. 

I  was  described  as  one  perpendicular  line. 

V  "          "         "  two  slanting  lines. 

D  "  "  "  one  perpendicular  line,  and  one  curved  line  on  the  right, 
touching  the  perpendicular  line  at  the  top  and  bottom. 

B  was  described  as  one  perpendicular  line,  and  two  curved  lines  on  the  right, 
touching  the  perpendicular  line  at  the  top,  in  the  centre,  and  at  the  bottom. 

The  design  of  this  exercise  \v&s,jirst,  to  secure  accurate  observation ;  second, 
to  secure  accurate  expression.  These  were  to  constitute  the  foundation  of  sub- 
sequent teaching. 

The  children  were  also  given  slips  of  straight  and  curved  pasteboard,  from 
which  to  form  these  letters  and  then  to  tell  their  names. 

2d  Step.  The  sounds  of  the  letters  were  repeated  as  simple  vocal  exercises, 
without  referring  them  to  the  letters  which  represent  them. 

3d  Step.  Now  initial  consonants  were  combined  with  syllables  consisting  of 
a  vowel  followed  by  a  consonant,  as, 

b — ud,          bud,  d — og,          dog, 

c — ot,  cot,  c— at,  cat, 

In  this  exercise,  the  powers  or  sounds  of  the  letters  only  are  used. 

4th  Step.  Here  two  initial  consonants  were  used,  as, 

bl — ack,  black,  br — ay,          bray, 

cl — oth,  cloth,  br — ow,         brow, 

The  meaning  of  the  words  are  given  in  this  step. 


REPORT  OF  THE  COMMITTEE.  437 

The  ~ith  and  fith  Steps  were  illustrated  with  the  A  class,  primary,  children 
about  i)  years  of  age. 

Anomalous  sounds  were  considered,  and  the  same  sounds  represented  by  dif- 
ferent characters,  also  the  same  characters  representing  different  sounds. 

5//i  Step.  The  three  sounds  of  ch,  also  silent  letters,  initial,  central,  and  term- 
inal letters,  were  considered  : 

Ch  has  .the  English  sound,  as  in  church,  chair,  chap,  chip,  chin,  chat. 

Ch  has  a  hard  sound,  as  in  chyme,  churn,  choir,  etc. 

Cli  has  a  French  sound,  as  in  Chicago,  charade,  chaise,  Chemung,  etc. 

The  words  showing  examples  of  these  different  sounds  were  given  by  the  pu- 
pils, while  the  teacher  wrote  them  on  the  blackboard. 

Initial  silent  Letters. — H  is  an  initial  silent  letter  in  hour,  honor. 

Central  silent  Letters. — D  and  G  are  central  silent  letters  in  bridge,  edge, 
sign,  etc. 

Terminal  silent  Letters. — B  and  N  are  terminal  silent  letters  in  thumb,  plumb, 
autumn,  hymn. 

Gt/t  Step.  Sounds  expressed  by  ou ;  and  long  sound  of  o  expressed  by  dif- 
ferent letters;  classification  of  letters,  and  rules  of  spelling. 

The  proper  sound  of  o  is  expressed  by  ou  in  ground,  found,  round. 
"    long  "         o  "  "    "    "  soul,  mould,  court. 

"    broad      .    "         o  "          "    "   "  sought,  fought. 

"    close          "         u  "          "    "    "  couple. 

"    long          "         u  "  "    "  croup. 

The  long  sound  of  o  is  expressed  by  different  letters,  as  in  oat,  boat,  floor, 
•doc,  chateau,  sew,  coast,  sorrow. 

Classification  of  Letters. — Letters  are  classified,  with  reference  to  their  sound, 
into 

Vowels,  a,  e,  o,  u,  and  semi -vowels,  w,  y;  liquids,  1,  m,  n,  r,  ng;  mutes, 
sharp,  p,  t,  f,  th,  as  in  thin ;  mute  flats,  b,  d,  v,  th,  as  in  then ;  diphthongs,  i, 
oi,  oy,  and  aspirate  h. 

In  addition  to  the  foregoing  exercises,  a  few  simple  rules  for  spelling  were 
deduced  from  examples  of  words  given,  and  the  exercises  of  the  examination 
•closed. 

CONCLUSIONS    OF   THE    COMMITTEE. 

In  view  of  all  they  have  witnessed  in  the  exercises,  of  which 
the  foregoing  are  brief  sketches,  and  in  the  light  of  the  best  in- 
formation which  they  have  been  able  from  various  sources  to 
•obtain  upon  the  subject  of  "Object  Teaching,"  and  what  is 
known  as  the  Pestalozzian  system  generally,  they  feel  warranted 
in  giving  expression  to  the  following  conclusions : 

1.  That  the  principles  of  that  system  are  philosophical  anfc 
sound ;  that  they  are  founded  in,  and  are  in  harmony  with  the 
nature  of  man,  and  hence  are  best  adapted  to  secure  to  him  such 
an  education  as  will  conduce  in  the  highest  degree  to  his  wel- 
fare and  happiness,  present  and  future. 

2.  That  the  particular  methods  of  instruction  presented  in  the 


428  OSVVKGO  EDUCATIONAL  CONVENTION. 

exercises  before  us  as  illustrative  of  those  principles  merit  and 
receive  our  hearty  approbation,  subject  to  such  modifications  a* 
experience  and  the  characteristics  of  our  people  may  determine 
to  be  wise  and  expedient. 

In  conclusion,  the  Committee  beg  leave  to  present  in  the  form 
of  resolutions  the  following  recommendations: 

Resolved,  That  in  the  opinion  of  your  Committee,  the  System 
of  Object  Teaching  is  admirably  adapted  to  cultivate  the  per- 
ceptive fa/ulties  of  the  child,  to  furnish  him  with  clear  concep- 
tions and  the  power  of  accurate  expression,  and  thus  to  prepare 
him  for  the  prosecution  of  the  sciences  or  the  pursuits  of  active 
life;  and  that  the  Committee  do  recommend  the  adoption  of  the 
system  in  whole  or  in  part,  wherever  such  introduction  is  prac- 
ticable. 

Resolved,  That  this  system  of  primary  education,  which  sub- 
stitutes in  great  measure  the  teachers  for  the  book,  demands 
in  its  instructors  varied  knowledge  and  thorough  culture ;  and 
that  attempts  to  introduce  it  by  those  who  do  not  clearly  compre- 
hend its  principles,  and  who  have  not  been  trained  in  its  meth- 
ods, can  result  only  in  failure.  \ 

All  which  is  respectfully  submitted. 
(Signed)         WM.  F.  PIIELPS, 
D.  H.  COCIIKAN, 

DAVID  N.  CAMP, 

,-  -r.  TT  Special  Committee 

THOMAS  F.  HARRISON,  >   •*          „ 

TT  -o  ,,T  on  Report. 

H.  P.  WILBUR, 

GEO.  L.  FARXHAM, 

W.  NlCOLL, 

Approved  by  the  General  Committee,  and  read  before  the  Con- 
vention, in  Doolittle  Hall,  on  Thursday  evening,  February  13th,. 
1862. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  OBJECT  TEACHING. 


HISTORY  furnishes  no  records  of  attention  to  elementary  edu- 
cation prior  to  the  seventeenth  century.  The  ancients  neglected 
the  instruction  of  their  children,  although  they  provided  schools 
of  philosophy  for  their  young  men.  The  prevailing  idea  on  the 
subject  of  education  appears  to  have  been  that  knowledge  con- 
sisted in  the  memory  of  rules  and  words  rather  than  in  things 
and  thoughts.  The  practice  of  teaching  by  requiring  the  pupils 
to  memorize  all  lessons,  without'  regard  to  an  understanding  of 
their  meaning,  had  come  down  from  the  monastic  schools  of 
earlier  a'ges.  The  principles  of  development  by  primary  educa- 
tion were  then  unknown  in  all  the  plans  of  teaching. 

Just  before  the  dawn  of  the  seventeenth  century,  a  keen  ob- 
server of  nature  and  men,  having  noticed  that  artisans  worked 
out  their  results  by  inductive  processes  of  reasoning,  also  that 
the  arts  and  sciences  were  progressing,  while  philosophy  and 
education  remained  stationary,  borrowed  the  principle  of  utility 
and  progress  from  the  workshops  of  his  time,  applied  it  to  phi- 
losophy and  education,  and  the  world  was  aroused  by  the  tri- 
umphal progress  of  a  new  system  of  philosophy  which  immor- 
talized the  name  of  Francis  Bacon. 

This  philosopher  taught  that  the  powers  of  memory  alone  can 
do  but  little  toward  the  advancement  of  science  or  education. 
He  classed  those  school  achievements  in  mere  memory  with  the 
physical  achievements  of  the  mountebanks:  "The  two  perform- 
ances are  much  of  the  same  sort.  The  one  is  an  abuse  of  the 
powers  of  the  mind;  the  other  is  an  abuse  of  the  powers  of  the 
body.  Both  may  excite  our  wonder,  but  neither  is  entitled  to 
•our  respect." 

Although  Bacon's  attention  was  chiefly  confined  to  philosophy, 
yet  he  struck  the  key-note  of  those  great  principles  of  education 
which  have  become  the  foundation  of  the  most  philosophical 
methods  of  teaching  now  practiced  throughout  the  civilized 
world.  Said  he,  "  Men  read  in  books  what  authors  say  concern- 
ing stones,  plants,  animals,  and  the  like,  but  to  inspect  these 


430  THE  HISTORY  OF  OBJECT  TEACHING. 

stones,  plants,  and  animals  with  their  own  eyes  is  far  enough 
from  their  thoughts  ;  whereas  we  should  fix  the  eyes  of  our 
mind  upon  things  themselves,  and  thereby  form  a  true  concep- 
tion of  them."  Little,  however,  was  accomplished  during  Ba- 
con's time  in  devising  plans  for  the  primary  education  of  chil- 
dren. 

Early  in  the  seventeenth  century  the  inductive  system  of  Ba- 
con attracted  the  attention  of  a  thinking,  earnest  teacher  of 
Austria — John  Amos  Comenius.  He  seems  almost  to  have  been 
endowed  with  an  intuition  which  gave  him,  to  a  remarkable  de- 
gree, a  knowledge  of  the  true  principles  of  education.  He  saw 
more  clearly  than  any  of  his  predecessors  what  was  necessary 
for  the  improvement  of  the  methods  of  instruction,  and  he  soon 
made  an  application  of  the  principles  of  Bacon's  inductive  system 
to  primary  education.  In  1657  he  published  the  first  school- 
book  in  which  pictures  were  used  to  illustrate  the  various  topics 
discussed  in  it.  This  work  continued  to-  be  a  text-book  in  the 
German  schools  for  nearly  two  hundred  years. 

Comenius  was  an  evangelical  preacher  as  well  as  an  educator, 
and  on  the  issue  of  a  decree  in  1624  that  all  persons  must  leave 
the  Austrian  dominions  who  would  not  become  Catholics,  he 
took  his  departure  for  Poland  with  thirty  thousand  families, 
of  whom  five  hundred  were  of  noble  blood.  As  he  came  upon 
the  range  of  mountains  at  the  boundary,  he  paused  to  look  once 
more  back  to  his  native  land,  and,  with  his  brethren,  fell  upon 
his  knees  and  prayed,  with  many  tears,  that  God  would  not  suf- 
fer His  Word  to  be  entirely  destroyed  in  that  country,  but  would 
preserve  some  seed  of  it  there. 

Who  will  say  that  those  prayers  were  not  answered,  when, 
within  five  years  afterward,  Comenius  was  himself  permitted  to 
return  and  labor  for  the  improvement  of  the  schools  of  Bohemia. 

Subsequently  he  went  to  Lissa,  Poland,  where  he  became  pres- 
ident of  the  school,  and  bishop  of  the  Moravian  brethren — a  sect 
which  has  been  distinguished  for  its  good  schools  wherever  its 
colonies  have  been  planted.  Here  he  published  his  first  work, 
the  Janua  Linguarum  Eeserata — a  new  method  of  teaching 
languages,  in  connection  with  instruction  in  the  elements  of  the 
sciences.  This  work  soon  carried  his  fame  to  other  lands,  and 
every  where  it  developed  the  necessity  of  a  reform  in  education. 

By  an  Act  of  Parliament  Comenius  was  invited  to  England  in 
1641,  to  undertake  the  reformation  of  their  schools.  His  labors 
there  were  defeated  by  the  disturbances  in  Ireland  and  the  civil 


THE  HISTORY  OF  OBJECT  TEACHING.  431 

wars.  A  similar  invitation  having  been  extended  to  him  by  the 
government  of  Sweden,  he  left  England  and  went  to  Stockholm 
in  1G42.  War  again  interrupting  his  labors,  he  returned  to  Lissa. 
Subsequently  he  visited  Hungary  and  other  places  to  prosecute- 
his  efforts  in  behalf  of  education.  Again  he  returned  to  Lissa, 
but  only  to  encounter  greater  misfortunes.  Amid  the  disturb- 
ances between  the  Catholic  Poles  and  the  Moravian  Protestants, 
the  city  was  burned,  and  he  lost  his  house,  his  library,  and  his 
manuscripts,  the  labors  of  many  years.  He  subsequently  went 
to  Holland,  and  found  an  asylum  in  the  city  of  Amsterdam,  where 
he  reproduced  several  of  his  lost  works.  He  died  in  1671,  at 
the  age  of  eighty. 

Comenius  was  the  great  educator  of  the  seventeenth  century. 
Such  was  his  enduring  earnestness  that,  although  exiled  from  his 
native  land,  wandering,  persecuted,  and  homeless,  during  the  des- 
olating thirty-years'  war  of  that  period,  still  he  continued  to  labor 
unweariedly  in  the  cause  of  education,  not  only  inspiring  several 
countries  of  Europe  with  an  enthusiastic  desire  for  a  better  sys- 
tem of  instruction,  but  introducing  new  principles  of  education, 
which  greatly  modified  the  practices  in  teaching,  and  prepared 
the  way,  by  gradual  changes,  for  the  more  thorough  reformation 
of  schools  which  followed  under  the  labors  of  subsequent  edu- 
cators. 

In  his  educational  works  may  be  found  the  first  promulgation 
of  the  principles  and  plans  of  Object  Teaching,  and  of  a  gradu- 
ated system  of  instruction  adapted  to  the  wants  of  the  age  in 
which  he  lived. 

Some  of  his  leading  ideas  on  the  subject  of  education  we  will 
briefly  state :  "  Since  the  beginning  of  knowledge  must  be  with 
the  senses,  the  beginning  of  teaching  should  be  made  by  dealing 
with  actual  things.  The  object  must  be  a  real,  useful  thing,  ca- 
pable of  making  an  impression  upon  the  senses.  To  this  end  it 
must  be  brought  into  communication  with  them  ;  if  visible,  with 
the  eyes  ;  if  audible,  with  the  ears  ;  if  tangible,  with  the  touch  ; 
if  odorous,  with  the  nose ;  if  sapid,  with  the  taste.  First  the 
presentation  of  the  thing  itself,  and  the  real  intuition  of  it;  then 
the  oral  explanation  for  the  farther  elucidation  of  it." 

But  inasmuch  as  the  presentation  of  the  thing  itself  is  so  fre- 
quently impossible,  he  advised  the  use  of  pictures  as  the  repre- 
sentatives of  things,  that  the  words  which  related  to  them  might 
be  understood. 

The  course  of  instruction  laid  down  by  Comenius  commenced 


432  THE  HISTOKY  OF  OBJKCT  TKACUlNir. 

with  infancy.  During  the  first  six  years  the  children  were  to 
learn  to  know  animals,  plants,  stones,  ami  the  names  and  uses  of 
the  members  of  their  own  body.  They  were  also  to  be  led  to 
distinguish  colors,  and  to  delight  their  eyes  with  beautiful  things. 
They  should  begin  Geography  with  the  knowledge  of  the  room, 
the  streets,  the  fields,  the  farm — Arithmetic,  with  counting  ob- 
jects— Geometry,  with  understanding  'the  ideas  of  lines,  circles, 
angles,  length,  breadth,  an  inch,  a  foot,  etc. — Music,  with  hearing 
singing — History,  with  a  knowledge  of  what  happened  to  them 
yesterday  and  the  day  before — Chronology,  with  the  knowledge 
of  day  and  night,  hours,  weeks,  and  festivals. 

The  views  of  Comenius  are  so  completely  in  harmony  with 
lihe  natural  means  of  acquiring  knowledge  through  the  exercise 
of  the  senses,  and  with  the  laws  of  mental  development,  and 
also  with  the  observations  and  experiences  of  many  succeeding 
educators,  that  we  deem  the  presentation  of  a  few  of  his  thoughts, 
in  language  more  literally  his  own,  due  even  in  this  brief  history 
of  Object  Teaching.  For  the  following  extracts  from  his  writings 
we  are  indebted  to  that  most  valuable  of  all  collections  of  educa- 
tional literature,  Barnard's  American  Journal  of  Education. 

Said  Comenius :  "The  best  years  of  my  own  youth  were  wasted 
in  useless  school  exercises.  How  often,  since  I  have  learned  to 
know  better,  have  I  shed  tears  at  the  remembrance  of  lost  hours. 
But  u'rirt'  is  vain.  Only  one  thing  remains;  only  one  thing  is 
possible — to  leave  posterity  what  advice  I  can  by  showing  the 
way  in  which  our  teachers  have  led  us  into  errors,  and  the  meth- 
od of  remedying  these  errors." 

His  practical  views  of  education  may  be  discerned  in  the  suc- 
ceeding quotations : 

"  Instruction  will  usually  succeed  if  it  follows  the  course  of 
Nature.  Whatever  is  natural  goes  forward  of  itself." 

"  The  first  education  should  be  of  the  perceptions,  then  of  the 
memory,  then  of  the  understanding,  then  of  the  judgment." 

"  Instruction  must  begin  with  actual  inspection,  not  with  ver- 
bal description  of  things." 

"To  learn  is  to  proceed  from  something  known  to  the  knowl- 
edge of  something  unknown;  in  which  there  are  three  things, 
the  known,  the  unknown,  and  the  mental  effort  to  reach  the  un- 
known from  the  known." 

"  We  first  proceed  toward  knowledge  by  the  perception  and 
understanding  of  the  present ;  and  afterward  go  on  from  the 
present  to  the  absent  by  means  of  the  information  of  others." 


THE  HISTORY  OF  OBJECT  TEACHING.  433 

"The  attention  should  be  fixed  upon  only  one  object  at  a  time; 
and  upon  the  whole  first,  and  the  parts  afterward." 

"  A  second  point  should  not  be  undertaken  until  the  first  is 
learned  ;  and  with  the  second,  the  first  should  be  repeated." 

"Sight  will  supply  the  place  of  demonstration.  It  is  good  to 
use  several  senses  in  understanding  one  thing." 

"To  know  any  thing  is  to  be  able  to  represent  it,  either  by 
the  mind,  or  the  hand,  or  the  tongue.  We  learn,  not  only  in 
order  to  understand,  but  also  to  express  and  to  use  what  we  un- 
derstand. As  much  as  any  one  understands,  so  much  ought  he 
to  accustom  himself  to  express;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  he  should 
understand  whatever  he  says.  Speech  and  knowledge  should 
proceed  with  equal  steps." 

"Hitherto  the  schools  have  done  nothing  with  the  view  of 
developing  children,  like  young  trees,  from  the  growing  impulse 
of  their  own  roots,  but  only  with  that  of  hanging  them  over 
with  twigs  broken  off  elsewhere.  They  teach  youth  to  adorn 
themselves  with  others'  feathers,  like  the  crow  in  JEsop's  Fables. 
They  do  not  show  them  things  as  they  are,  but  tell  them  what 
one  and  another,  and  a  third,  and  a  tenth  has  thought  and  writ- 
ten about  them ;  so  that  it  is  considered  a  mark  of  great  wisdom 
for  a  man  to  know  a  great  many  opinions  which  contradict  each 
other." 

"  The  schools  are  wrong  in  first  teaching  language  and  then 
proceeding  to  things.  The  thing  is  the  substance,  and  the  word 
the  accident ;  the  thing  is  the  body,  and  the  word  the  clothing. 
Things  and  words  should  be  studied  together,  but  things  espe- 
cially, as  the  objects  both  of  the  understanding  and  of  language." 

"  In  God  are  the  original  ideas,  which  He  impresses  upon 
things ;  things,  again,  impress  their  representations  upon  the 
senses ;  the  senses  impart  them  to  the  mind ;  the  mind  to  the 
tongue,  and  the  tongue  to  the  ears  of  others.  The  mind  thinks 
— the  tongue  speaks — the  hand  makes;  hence  the  arts  of  speak- 
ing and  working,  and  the  sciences  of  things." 

Such  are  a  few  of  the  principles  in  education  which  Comenius 
taught — and  they  have  since  been  confirmed  by  the  experiences 
of  two  centuries. 

It  is  difficult  to  judge  to  what  extent  the  later  educators — 
Lock,  Rousseau,  and  Pestalozzi — were  indebted  to  Comenius  for 
those  principles  which  they  severally  taught  subsequently,  but 
we  find  much  in  the  writings  of  each  that  is  entirely  in  accord- 
ance with  the  teachings  of  this  great  pioneer  in  educational  re* 


434  THE  HISTORY  OF  OBJECT  TEACH  I  Ml. 

forms.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  a  careful  study  of  the  his- 
tory of  education  would  result  in  the  conviction  that  many  of 
the  best  methods  of  instruction,  and  the  principles  of  education 
on  which  are  based  so  great  a  number  of  the  modern  improve- 
ments in  modes  of  teaching,  were  conceived  and  taught  by  Co- 
menius  more  than  two  hundred  years  ago.  He  planted  the  seeds 
which  have  germinated  from  time  to  time,  under  the  fostering 
care  of  various  educators,  and  to-day  we  behold  their  most  vig- 
orous growth. 

The  labors  of  Comenius  were  performed  during  the  first  two 
thirds  of  the  seventeenth  century.  John  Locke,  the  distinguished 
English  philosopher,  lived  during  the  last  two  thirds  of  that  cen- 
tury. He  urged,  as  the  chief  business  of  primary  education,  the 
development  of  the  faculties  of  the  child ;  that  as  the  first  ideas 
of  children  are  derived  from  sensation,  so  the  perceptive  facul- 
ties should  be  the  first  cultivated  or  developed.  The  main  ele- 
ments of  his  methods  of  education  were  attention  to  the  physical 
wants  of  the  child,  and  the  development  of  the  intellectual  pow- 
ers through  the  instrumentality  of  things. 

Rousseau,  who  acknowledged  his  indebtedness  to  Locke,  and 
who  embodied  ideas  similar  to  those  of  that  philosopher  in  a 
treatise  on  education  called  "Emile,"  lived  during  nearly  three 
fourths  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

Pestalozzi  was  born  about  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth,  and 
died  soon  after  the  close  of  the  first  quarter  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  He  said :  "  Observation  is  the  absolute  basis  of  all 
knowledge.  The  first  object  then,  in  education,  must  be  to  lead 
a  child  to  observe  with  accuracy ;  the  second,  to  express  with 
correctness  the  result  of  his  observations."  "The  development 
of  man  commences  with  natural  perceptions  through  the  senses. 
Its  highest  attainment,  intellectually,  is  the  exercise  of  reason." 
Although  we  find  no  direct  acknowledgment  of  Pestalozzi's  in- 
debtedness to  Comenius,  as  we  do  of  the  relation  of  the  latter 
to  Bacon,  no  one  can  examine  the  systems  of  these  educators  of 
the  seventeenth  and  nineteenth  centuries  without  discovering 
many  remarkable  similarities.  It  was  doubtless  owing  to  the 
general  diffusion  of  the  principles  so  widely  taught  by  Comenius 
that  the  methods  for  applying  them,  which  were  subsequently 
devised  by  Pestalozzi,  became  at  once  so  popular  and  widely 
successful. 

The  dawn  of  the  present  century  beheld  Pestalozzi  at  Bourg- 
dorf,  engaged  with  Kriisi  in  making  a  more  detailed  npplica- 


•mi:  n i. -TORY  «u'  OHJK  T  TKACIIIXC.  435 

tion  of  those  principles  of  education  which  were  disseminated 
1)\  Comenius  a  century  and  a  half  before,  in  methods  chiefly 
devised  by  himself.  While  there,  Pestalozzi  wrote  that  work — 
••I  low  Gertrude  teaches  her  Children"  —  which  attracted  so 
much  attention  to  his  system  of  education  from  all  parts  of 
Europe. 

A-  early  as  1807  we  find  him  in  charge  of  the  institution  at 
Yverdun,  where  he  attained  his  highest  renown,  and  where  he 
remained  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century.  So  widely  had  his 
lame  extended,  that  persons  went  thither  from  almost  every 
country  of  Europe,  and  even  from  America ;  riot  merely  those 
who  were  led  by  the  impulses  which  inspired  him,  but  by  the 
agents  of  kings  and  noblemen,  and  of  public  institutions,  who  de- 
sired to  make  themselves  acquainted  with  his  methods  of  teach- 
ing, in  order  to  their  introduction  into  other  countries.  No  sim- 
ilar institution  has  ever  attained  so  great  fame,  and  no  other  has 
exerted  so  wide  an  influence  on  the  methods  of  teaching. 

Just  before  Pestalozzi  opened  his  institution  at  Yverdun,  be 
received  a  request  from  a  philanthropic  society  in  Paris  to  send 
a  teacher  there  who  could  introduce  his  system  of  instruction 
into  France.  Accordingly,  he  selected  Mr.  Joseph  Neef,  who  had 
been  associated  with  him  as  a  teacher,  and  who  possessed  tlw? 
additional  qualifications  of  understanding  both  the  German  and 
French  languages.  Mr.  Neef  went  to  Paris,  and  remained  some. 
two  years,  laboring  with  a  good  degree  of  success. 

During  the  summer  of  1805,  Mr.  William  Mac  Clure,  of  Phil- 
adelphia, while  traveling  in  Switzerland,  visited  IVst.-ilozzi's 
school,  and  was  so  much  pleased  with  the  system  of  teaching 
that  he  resolved  to  introduce  it  into  America.  On  returning  to 

O 

Paris  he  sought  out  Mr.  Neef,  and  invited  him  to  come  to  this 
Count  rv. 

"  On  what  terms,"  said  Mr.  Mac  Clure,  "  would  yon  £o  to  my 
country  and  introduce  your  method  of  education  ?  I  have  seen 
Pestalozzi ;  I  know  his  system  ;  my  country  wants  it,  and  will 
receive  it  with  enthusiasm.  I  will  engage  to  pay  your  passnge, 
also  to  secure  your  livelihood.  Go,  and  be  your  master's  apostle 
in  the  New  World." 

So  generous  an  invitation  awakened  an  earnest  desire  in  Mr. 
Neef  to  visit  this  country.  He  would  fain  have  accepted  it,  but 
he  did  not  know  our  language.  "Two  years  shall  be  allowed 
you  for  acquiring  that  language,  during  which  time  I  will  sup- 
port you,"  said  this  noble  benefactor.  This  generous  proposi- 


436  THE  HISTORY  OF  OlI.JKCT  TEACHING. 

tion  decided  the  mission.  Mr.  Neef  came  to  Philadelphia,  stud- 
ied the  language,  and  in  1809  published  a  small  volume  setting 
forth,  somewhat  in  the  style  of  an  extended  prospectus,  the  plans 
and  .principles  of  a  new  method  of  education  which  he  proposed 
to  introduce  into  a  private  school  that  he  should  establish  in  the 
suburbs  of  that  city.  He  labored  there  for  several  years,  but 
from  some  cause,  probably  owing  to  his  inability  to  adapt  him- 
self  to  the  American  mind  and  habits,  his  enterprise  failed. 
Judging  from  a  second  volume  which  he  issued  in  1813,  on  lan- 
guage, he  must  have  been  not  only  impractical,  but  also  have 
failed  to  comprehend  the  necessity  of  Americanizing  the  system 
instead  of  merely  transplanting  it. 

He  probably  sought — to  quote  his  own  words,  uttered  in  view 
of  the  fate  which  might  attend  his  school — "  some  obscure  vil- 
lage whose  hardy  youth  want  a  schoolmaster ;"  for,  said  he,  "  to 
become  an  obscure,  useful  country  schoolmaster  is  the  highest 
pitch  of  my  worldly  ambition." 

Although  Pestalozzi  founded  his  system  on  correct  principles, 
he  frequently  erred  in  his  practice  of  teaching.  Many  of  his  ex- 
pedients for  Object  Teaching  were  faulty,  and  not  even  in  ac- 
cordance with  his  own  system.  In  his  zeal  for  the  improvement 
of  the  mind  itself,  and  for  methods  of  instruction  which  were 
calculated  to  invigorate  its  faculties,  he  forgot  the  necessity  of 
positive  knowledge  as  the  materials  for  thought  and  practical 
use  in  future  life.  So  frequently  did  he  violate  his  own  system 
in  the  exercises  of  the  school-room,  that  one  of  his  intimate 
friends  and  admirers  said  of  him,  "His  province  is  to  educate 
ideas,  not  children."  Nevertheless,  he  succeeded  in  reviving  the 
true  principles  of  teaching,  and  instituting  the  greatest  educa- 
tional movement  of  the  century.  He  had  the  good  fortune  to 
associate  with  him  Neiderer,  Krtisi,  Schmid,  Zeller,  and  Fellen- 
berg,to  whose  systematic  development  of  his  methods,  and  their 
dissemination  of  them,  the  subsequent  success  of  his  system  is 
largely  due.  Many  of  his  teachers  even  resigned  to  him  what- 
ever of  fame  and  profit  might  come  from  publishing  the  manuals 
which  they  compiled  for  their  respective  branches  of  study  while 
engaged  as  instructors  in  his  institution. 

During  the  suV>j illation  of  Germany  under  Napoleon,  the 
minds  of  the  ablest  Prussian  statesmen  were  eagerly  occupied  in 
'le vising  means  for  raising  the  moral,  mental,  and  physical  char- 
acter of  the  nation  to  a  standard  of  elevated  development,  which, 
.although  it  might  be  of  little  immediate  use  in  their  struggle  for 


THE  HISTORY  OF  OlUKCT  TEACHING.  437 

independence,  yet  might  insure  the  success  of  such  :i  struggle  in 
the  future.  Among  the  prominent  instrumentalities  sought  for 
this  purpose  was  an  improvement  in  their  schools,  by  the  intro- 
duction of  the  Pestalozzian  system  of  teaching.  The  king,  the 
queen,  and  the  ministry  looked  upon  this  movement  with  hopes 
of  the  happiest  results.  Accordingly,  extensive  measures  were 
at  once  taken  to  test  these  plans. 

Carl  August  Zeller,  who  had  been  one  of  Pestalozzi's  teachers 
at  Bourgdorf,  also  at  Yverdun,  was  engaged  by  the  government 
of  Prussia  to  organize  normal  schools  for  training  teachers  in 
this  system  of  instruction.  In  addition  to  this  means,  several 
young  men  were  sent  to  Yverdun,  also  to  other  similar  institu- 
tions, to  acquire  the  best  methods  of  teaching.  Thus,  in  a  com- 
paratively short  time,  a  large  body  of  competent  instructors  were 
scattered  among  the  Prussian  schools. 

Introduced  as  the  system  thus  was  under  the  most  favorable 
fcuspices,  yet  with  some  modifications,  its  spirit  proved  satisfac- 
tory in  meeting  the  needs  of  the  people  for  a  more  thorough 
intellectual  development  of  the  nation.  This  introduction  was 
commenced  about  1810,  and  in  1825  it  had  possession  of  the  en- 
tire common  school  system  of  that  country. 

From  Prussia  and  the  German  states  the  system  of  Pestalozzi 
has  been  widely  diffused  in  other  countries  by  visitors  who  went 
there  for  the  purpose  of  examining  the  workings  of  their  schools. 
It  was  partially  transferred  to  France  by  Cousin  and  Jullien. 
The  principles  of  this  system  now  prevail  in  the  best  schools 
of  England,  Denmark,  Switzerland,  Prussia,  Germany,  Sardinia, 
Greece,  and  many  of  the  colonies  of  Great  Britain.  The  meth- 
ods of  teaching  which  prevail  in  the  United  States  have  been 
materially  influenced  by  the  promulgation  of  these  principles. 

Some  thirty  Years  ago  efforts  were  made  in  Boston,  and  oth- 
er portions  of  New  England,  to  introduce  the  system  of  Pes- 
taloxxi  into  their  schools  by  Prof.  William  Russell,  William  C. 
Woodbridge,  Carter,  Gallaudet,  Alcott,  and  Dr.  Griscom.  Able 
articles  were  published  on  this  subject  by  Prof.  Russell,  in  the 
"  Journal  of  Education"  as  long  ago  as  1829.  In  1830  and  '31, 
William  C.  Woodbridge  wrote  a  series  of  articles  for  the  "Annals 
of  Education"  describing  the  principles  of  teaching  in  the  insti- 
tution of  Fellenberg,  at  Hofwyl,  where  improved  methods  of 
Pestaloxzi's  system  were  practiced.  These  articles  treated  chief- 
ly upon  the  principles  of  the  system,  without  giving  details  of 
the  methods.  Notwithstanding  the  diffusion  of  the  principles 


488  'ni'--  HISTUKY  or  oi;.n.< T 

of  Object  Teaching  in  this  country  during  that  period,  its  prac- 
tice died  out  through  the  want  of  teachers  trained  in  the  system. 
<m<!  it*  methods. 

The  institution  of  Pestalozzi,  at  Yverdun,  was  visited  in  1818 
by  Dr.  Mayo,  of  London,  and  about  the  same  period  by  Dr. 
Biber  ami  Mr.  Greaves.  Through  the  efforts  of  these  gentlemen 
the  system  taught  there  was  introduced  into  England.  The  sue- 
oesa  of  i  hi*  introduction  was  secured  through  the  organization, 
in  1836,  of  the  "Home  and  Colonial  School  Society,"  and  the 
subsequent  establishment  of  Training  and  Model  Schools  in  Lon- 
don, for  instructing  teachers  in  its  principles  and  methods. 

In  this  introduction  of  the  system  of  Object  Teaching  into  Eng- 
land, it  was  found  necessary  to  greatly  modify  the  plans  of  in- 
struction to  adapt  them  to  the  Anglo-Saxon  mind  and  character. 

In  the  schools  of  this  society  the  system  of  elementary  instruc- 
tion by  object  lessons  has  been  brought  to  a  much  greater  de- 
gree of  perfection  than  it  attained  even  under  the  immediate 
supervision  of  the  celebrated  Swiss  educator. 

The  Training  Institution  of  London  usually  has  about  two 
hundred  st  udent  teachers  in  attendance;  and  about  one  hundred 
graduate  annually.  Up  to  the  present  time  some  3000  teachers 
have  been  trained  there,  and  by  them  the  methods  of  Object 
Teaching  are  gradually  being  diffused  throughout  England. 

Something  has  been  done  toward  introducing  the  plans  of 
Object  Teaching  into  the  best  schools  of  Canada.  Visitors  from 
the  United  States  to  the  celebrated  Normal  and  Model  Schools 
of  Toronto  have  caught  glimpses  of  the  system  from  time  to 
time,  and  brought  away  many  suggestions  for  improvements  in 
their  own  methods  of  teaching. 

About  two  years  since,  one  who  had  long  been  dissatisfied 
with  the  results  of  the  usual  methods  of  elementary  instruction, 
and  who  had  been  endeavoring  to  devise  some  more  common- 
sense  methods  for  primary  schools  than  those  which  consisted 
of  mere  memory  of  words,  while  visiting  the  Model  School  of 
Toronto,  found  the  books  published  by  the  Home  and  Colonial 
Society  on  elementary  instruction.  He  procured  these,  together 
with  pictures  and  other  apparatus  for  illustrating  the  lessons, 
and,  returning  to  the  schools  under  his  supervision,  prepared  his 
programmes,  called  his  teachers  together,  gave  them  instructions, 
and  commenced  in  earnest  the  introduction  of  Object  Teaching 
into  all  the  primary  schools  under  his  charge. 

Manv   were  the  difficulties   encountered.     The   methods  of 


THE  HISTORY  OF  OBJECT  TEACHING.  439 

teaching  were  new  alike  to  superintendent,  teachers,  and  pupils. 
No  om>  was  at  hand,  familiar  with  the  system,  to  give  instruc- 
tion cither  in  its  principles  or  methods.  As  a  substitute  for  this, 
and  the  guidance  of  one  trained  in  the  practice  of  Object  Teach- 
ing, once  during  each  week  teachers  and  superintendent  met  to 
compare  notes  of  lessons  and  notes  of  progress.  The  oldest 
teacluTs,  av  \\ell  us  the  youngest,  studied  in  preparation  for  the 
work  before  them. 

The  teachers  became  more  and  more  interested  in  the  system 
as  they  >aw  its  results  in  their  pupils.  The  interest  of  the  pu- 
pils grew  stronger  as  the  teachers  learned  to  practice  the  system 
better.  Such  were  the  efforts  for  the  first  systematic  introduc- 
tion of  Object  Teaching  into  the  United  States ;  and  the  honor 
of  this  achievement  is  due  to  the  city  of  Oswego,  her  earnest  su- 
perintendent, E.  A.  Sheldon,  Esq.,  and  her  progressive  Board  of 
Education. 

During  the  regular  annual  examinations  for  promotions,  about 
one  year  ago,  the  subject  of  Object  Lessons  was  added  to  the 
list  of  studies  in  which  examinations  were  to  be  made.  It  was 
my  pleasure  to  be  present  for  several  days,  and  witness  the  ex- 
ercises. Notes  from  parents  requesting  that  Henry,  William, 
and  Mary  might  be  allowed  to  remain  in  the  primary  school  an- 
other term,  "they  are  so  much  interested  in  their  Object  Les- 
sons," told  in  unmistakable  language  of  its  appreciation  by  the 
parents.  They  found  their  children  becoming  unusually  inter- 
ested in  school,  and  more  attentive  and  observing  at  home ;  and 
their  hearts  were  gladdened  in  view  of  the  changes  that  were 
being  wrought  in  their  boys  and  girls. 

My  own  gratification  has  since  been  repeatedly  expressed  in 
words  similar  to  the  following:  "To  any  one  who  may  desire 
to  see  the  practical  operations  of  Object  Teaching,  and  the  best 
system  of  elementary  instruction  to  be  found  in  this  country,  let 
me  say,  make  a  visit  to  Oswego." 

It  was  at  length  discovered  that  to  meet  the  wants  of  their 
schools,  and  secure  the  complete  introduction  and  continued 
practice  of  the  system,  a  Training  School  was  needed.  Accord- 
ingly, application  was  made  to  the  "  Home  and  Colonial  School 
Society"  of  London  for  a  training  teacher.  They  responded 
by  sending  Miss  M.  E.  M.  Jones,  who  arrived  here  on  the  first 
of  May  last,  and  immediately  entered  upon  her  duties. 

In  response  to  an  announcement  that  a  few  teachers  would  be 
admitted  in  the  class  besides  those  engaged  in  the  public  schools 


Till:  HISToKV  (>F  OlMKrT    I  !  A<  KING. 

of  Oswego,  a  dozen  other  ladies  assembled  there  on  the  6th  of 
August  last.  Others  were  subsequently  admitted.  Several  mem- 
bers of  this  training-  elass  liave  already  left  to  engage  in  tcaehino-. 

Rooms  liave  been  fitted  up  in  the  New  York  State  Normal 
School  ut  Albany  for  a  Model  School  in  Object  Ti  aching,  where 
til.-  future  graduates  from  that  institution  will  be  instructed  in 
this  s\>;em.  This  Model  Department  will  lie  under  the  charge 
of  a  lady  who  was  trained  in  the  elass  at  Oswego. 

The    Hoard   of  Trustees    of   the    New   Jersey    Slate    Normal 
School,  appreciating  the  advantages  of  the  system,  sent  a  lady 
teacher  to  attend  this  training  class,  and  defrayed  her  expei 
to  prepaiv  herself  for  introducing  it  into  their  school  at  Tren- 
ton. 

Some  of  the  practices  of  Object  Teaching  have  been  intro- 
duced into  the  Normal  School  at  Ypsilanti,  Mich.,  by  the  princi- 
pal of  that  institution. 

Already  several  cities  and  many  towns  are  taking  steps  pre- 
paratory to  iix  introduction,  and  some  have  been  practicing  its 
lessons  for  several  months.  Among  those  thus  actively  inter- 
d.  we  may  mention  Syracuse,  New  York,  Paterson,  X.  J., 
Chicago,  111.,  Toledo  and  Cincinnati,  Ohio,  Rochester,  X.  Y.,  San 
Francisco,  and  might  add  a  large  number  of  smaller  places.* 

The  irreat  interest  manifested  in  this  system  of  instruction  is 
shown  by  the  numerous  articles  on  the  subject  which  appear  in 
the  educational  journals  of  the  country,  and  in  the  repeated  and 


*  XOTK.—  The  author  of  this  Addr»--<  ha-  omitted  to  state  s.  me  I-K-N.  of  a 
personal  natniv,  which  are  important  to  an  accurate  history  of  tin-  ]  re-cnt 
movement  in  primary  education  in  this  country. 

In  the  summer  of  1860,  Mr.  Calkins  commenced  the  active  j  reparation  of 
a  work  on  "Object  Le—  mi-."  \\hii-h  wa-  publi-hcd  in  July,  1801.  Within  six 
months  from  its  first  presentation  to  the  public-  it  had  reached  its  fourth  edition, 
and  it  is  u-ed  wherever  there  is  any  interest  in  Object  Teaching.  In  addition 
to  this,  and  in  resj>onse  to  numerous  invitations  from  Teachers'  Institutes  and 
Teacher-*  A  —Delations,  he  has  delivered  lectures  on  this  subject  in  various  parts 
of  the  states  of  New  York,  New  Jersey,  Connecticut,  and  in  Massachusetts. 
Of  his  labors  in  the  State  of  New  York,  the  State  Superintendent  remark-  in 
his  last  Annual  Report: 

"A  large  number  of  school  commissioners,  having  interested  themselves  in 
the  subject,  secured  the  services  of  X.  A.  Calkins,  Esq.  —  a  gentleman  who  has 
given  the  system  much  attention  and  study  —  who  vi-ited  and  conducted  quite 
a  number  of  institutes,  lecturing  upon  the  principles,  and  giving  instruction  in 
the  practice  of  '  Object  Teaching.'  In  this  way  the  attention  of  many  hundreds 
of  our  teachers  has  been  directed  to  definite  aims  in  the  elevation  of  the  char- 
acter of  the  educational  work/'  —  Board  of  Education,  Oswego. 


Till:  IllsTuUV  OF  nlUKCT  TEACHING.  44l 

numerous  inquiries  relative  to  its  plans.  Amid  this  general  in- 
terest in  the  system,  and  the  popular  excitement  concerning  it, 
there  is  great  danger  that  the  well-meaning,  but  not  well-inform- 
ed, may  make  fatal  mistakes  in  attempting  to  practice  it.  Object 
Teaching  is  based  on  philosophical  principles,  and  the  teacher 
must  know  what  those  principles  are  before  she  can  apply  its 
methods  successfully.  The  true  system  of  teaching  takes  Nature 
lor  its  guide  ;  its  dangers  lie  in  the  want  of  observation  and  con- 
1'iM-mity  to  the  relations  of  knowledge  and  the  laws  of  mental 
development. 

During  the  time  of  Pestalozzi,  Yverdun  was  the  fountain  from 
whence  the  teachers  of  Europe  and  America  sought  a  new  and 
better  system  of  education.  When,  subsequently,  the  Prussian 
schools  had  been  modified  by  the  methods  employed  at  Yverdun, 
educators  journeyed  thither  to  observe  and  to  learn. 

To-day  educators  and  teachers  from  several  states,  and  from 
various  parts  of  our  own  state,  have  come  up  to  Oswego  to  see 
with  their  own  eyes  what  they  have  heard  with  their  ears  of 
the  schools,  and  the  system  of  instruction  pursued  here.  Their 
hearts  have  been  made  glad  by  what  has  already  been  witnessed, 
and  their  longings  for  some  sound  philosophical  improvement, 
for  some  means  \vherebymore  satisfactory  and  practical  results 
in  elementary  education  may  be  attained,  has  been  gratified  by 
the  hope  that  the  glorious  day  lia<  already  dawned  on  our  sho 
when  they////7o.s-oy,////  of  Bacon,  tin  i>ri  >!>•',  ^Us  of  Comem'"**  tin 
#yxti  ,n  <>f  /Vs-/,/Ac.r/.  <unf  tin  nn^t  practical  method*  <>/'  Ol>ject 
7'< <!<•/, ;,,, i  shall  l>e  thoroughly  incorporated  into  the  system  of 
instruction  in  all  the  schools  of  our  country. 


YV KK DUN 


OBJECT  TEACHING; 

ITS   GENERAL   PRINCIPLES,    AND    THE   OSWEGO   SYSTEM. 

Report  (driiwn  up  by  Prof.  S.  S.  Greene)  of  a  committee  appointed  by  the  National 
Teachers'  Association  in  1864  to  the  Annual  Meeting  in  1865.* 


IN  presenting  the  report  of  a  large  committee,  residing  at  great 
•distances  from  each  other,  it  is  but  just  to  say  that  nothing  like 
concert  of  action  could  be  secured. 

All  the  members  have  been  invited  to  express  their  opinions 
upon  the  subject  of  the  report.  The  writer  alone  has  .visited  Os- 
wego  for  the  specific  purpose  of  obtaining  the  requisite  facts.  The 
opinions  of  the  other  members,  so  far  as  expressed,  are  the  results 
of  their  individual  experience,  their  observations  of  object  teaching 
in  Oswego  or  elsewhere,  or  of  their  general  views  of  the  possibili- 
ties of  the  system.  These  opinions  will  have  their  appropriate 
places  in  the  report.  An  excellent  communication  from  Rev.  Dr. 
Hill,  President  of  Harvard  University,  obtained  at  the  solicitation 
of  the  writer,  will  also  be  referred  to.  It  is  but  just  to  say  that  the 
opinion  «»f  Mr.  Pennell,  of  St.  Louis,  was,  as  a  whole,  somewhat 
adverse  to  any  thing  like  systematic  object  teaching. 

Without  further  preliminary  remarks,  your  committee  proceed  to 
inquire, 

1.  What  place  do  external  objects  hold  in  the  acquisition  of 
knowledge  ?     Are  they  the  exclusive  source  of  our  knowledge  ? 

2.  So  far  as  our  knowledge  is  obtained  from  external  objects  as  a 
-source,  how  far  can  any  educational  processes  facilitate  the  acquisi- 
tion of  it  ? 

3.  Are  the  measures  adopted  at  Oswego  in  accordance  with  the 
•general  principles  resulting  from  these  inquiries  ? 

That  all  our  knowledge  comes  from  external  objects  as  a  source, 
no  one  who  has  examined  the  capacities  of  the  human  mind  pre- 
tends to  claim.  Yet  no  inconsiderable  part  springs  directly  from 
this  source.  Nature  itself  is  but  the  unfolding  and  expression  of 
ideals  from  the  great  fountain  and  storehouse  of  all  thought. 

*  The  Committee  consisted  of  Barnas  Sears,  D.  D.,  Providence,  R.  I.;  Prof.  S.  S.  Greene,  Prov- 
idence, R.  I.;  J.  L.  Pickard,  Superintendent  of  Schools,  Chicago,  111.;  J.  D.  Philbrick,  Superin- 
tendent of  Schools,  Boston,  Mass  ;  Diivid  N.  Camp,  State  Superintendent  of  Schools,  Connecti 
tut;  R.  Edwnrds,  Principal  of  Normal  School,  Illinois:  C.  L.  Pennell,  St.  Louis,  Mo 


444  OBJECT  TEACHING. 

With  the  Creator  the  ideal  is  the  original,  the  outward  form,  its- 
embodiment,  or  expression.  The  rose  is  a  thought  of  God  ex- 
pressed. With  us  the  forms  of  Nature  are  the  originals,  the  de- 
rived conceptions,  our  borrowed  thoughts,  borrowed,  since  it  is  the 
thought  of  the  Creator  through  the  mediation  of  Nature  that,  en- 
tering our  minds,  becomes  our  thought.  His  claim  to  originality 
is  most  valid  who  approaches  nearest  the  divine  source,  observes 
most  faithfully,  and  interprets  most  accurately.  The  page  of  Na- 
ture lies  open  to  all.  No  intellect  is  so  weak  as  not  to  read  some- 
thing,— none  so  profound  as  to  exhaust  her  unfathomable  depths. 
She  has  an  aspect  to  attract  the  gaze  of  early  infancy.  She  re- 
wards the  restless  curiosity  of  childhood.  She  repays  the  more 
thoughtful  examinations  of  youth,  and  crowns  \sith  unfading  laurels 
the  profoundest  researches  of  the  philosopher.  She  stimulates  by 
present  acquisitions  and  prospective  attainments.  The  well  known 
of  to-day  is  bordered  by  the  imperfectly  known,  the  attracting  field 
of  research  for  the  morrow.  What  we  know  and  can  express  is 
accompanied  with  much  that  we  know,  but  have  no  power  at 
present  to  expiv-- . 

Says  the  Rev.  Dr.  Hill,  "  It  is  the  thought  of  God  in  the  object 
that  stimulates  the  child's  thought."  Again,  "Text-book  and  lec- 
ture without  illustrations  frequently  fail  in  giving  just  ami  vivid 
images,  and  generally  fail  in  awakening  that  peculiar  reverence 
which  may  be  excited  by  direct  contact  with  Nature ;"  and  again, 
"Nature  is  infinite  in  its  expressions,  and  a  natural  object  contains 
more  than  can  be  expressed  in  words.  The  great  object  is  to  teach 
the  child  to  see  and  read  more  than  you  yourself  could  <-\pi 
words."  He  gives  an  example  in  the  case  of  his  own  child,  \\hirh 
very  forcibly  illustrates  this  point.  "I  was  walking,"  he  says,. 
"  yesterday  with  my  little  girl,  and  showing  her  plants  and  insects- 
and  birds  as  we  walked  along.  We  were  looking  at  lichens  on  the 
trees,  when  she  suddenly  and  without  hint  from  me  said,  'The  ma- 
ple trees  have  different  lichens  from  the  ash ;  I  mean  to  see  if  I  can 
tell  trees  by  their  trunks  without  looking  at  the  leaves.'  So  for  a 
long  distance  she  kept  her  eyes  down,  saying  to  the  trees  as  she 
passed,  lElm,  maple,  ash,  pine,'  etc.,  and  never  failing.  Now, 
neither  she  nor  I  would  find  it  easy  to  express  in  words  the  differ- 
ence between  some  of  the  elms  and  some  of  the  ashes,  though  the 
difference  was  easy  to  see."  How  emphatically  true  is  this  last  re- 
mark !  and  how  true  it  is  that,  even  if  these  should  at  any  time  be 
clothed  with  language,  other  marks  and  distinctions  would  unfold 
themselves  equally  obvious  to  the  eye,  hut  quite  as  difficult  to  be- 


OIJJHCT  TI:\(  -HIM;  445 

v\|»ivs.M.-d  .'  They  r\]>n  —  tliniiM-lvrs  to  our  senses,  and  through 
tlu'iu  t"  <>ur  andentandtnga,  but  we  lack  words  to  bind  them  into 
<>ur  forms  of  thought.  In  other  words,  the  forms  of  nature  are 
tilled  with  thoughts  which  are,  at  all  times,  revealing  themselves  to 
as  in  advance  of  our  power  of  speech.  The  thought  is  infolded  in 
tin.'  form,  ami  the  form  unfolds  the  thought.  It  becomes  ours  only 
when  we  have  experienced  it.  Human  speech  may  recall,  but  can 
nrvrr  originate  it.  To  be  known  it  must  be  seen,  or  realized  by 
the  senses.  This  necessarily  lays  the  foundation  for  object 
teaching. 

But  while  Nature  is  thus  the  source  of  a  vast  amount  of  our 
knowledge,  we  have  other  sources,  concerning  which  the  most  we 
can  say  of  the  objects  in  Nature  is,  they  are  only  the  occasions 
which  call  it  forth.  It  springs  spontaneously  and  intuitively  from 
the  depths  of  the  soul.  Such  thoughts  are  not  in  the  object,  but 
in  the  mind.  The  object  neither  embodies  nor  in  any  way  ex- 
presses them.  It  serves  merely  as  the  occasion  to  call  them  into 
consciousness.  The  boy  drops  his  ball  into  the  eddying  current, 
and  it  passes  beyond  his  reach.  Though  he  may  not  be  in  a  mood 
sufficiently  philosophical  to  put  into  form  the  intuitive  truth  that 
one  and  the  same  object  can  not  be  in  the  hand  and  out  of  it  at  the 
same  time,  yet  his  vexation  and  grief  will  sufficiently  express  it. 
That  thought,  no  one  will  pretend,  is  in  the  ball  or  in  the  water,  or 
is  expressed  by  either.  It  is  simply  in  the  mind. 

So  in  the  use  of -a  native  language,  objects  are  most  efficient  aids 
in  giving  precision  to  the  application  of  words,  but  they  can  never 
supply  that  wonderful  power  of  discrimination  in  the  expression  of 
thought  which  marks  the  earliest  and  latest  periods  of  life.  Says 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Sears,  the  chairman  of  this  committee,  "The  eloquent 
speaker  does  not,  in  his  highest  bursts  of  oratory,  first  select  words 
and  parts  of  a  sentence,  and  from  them  afterwards  construct  a 
whole,  but  he  begins  with  the  whole,  as  a  germ  in  his  mind,  and 
from  it  develops  the  parts.  This  power  in  language  is  instinctive, 
and  can  no  more  be  achieved  by  rules  and  canons  of  criticism  than 
can  a  work  of  genius.  A  philosopher  with  his  great  intellect  can 
not  learn  to  speak  a  language  idiomatically,  feelingly,  and  naturally, 
any  quicker  than  a  child.  The  understanding  alone  may  make  a 
linuiiUt,  or  a  critic,  but  not  a  natural,  fluent,  and  easy  speaker. 
Study  and  analysis  ;ii<l  in  comprehending  language,  and  in  correct- 
ing errors ;  but  the  native  charms  of  idiomatic  and  touching  En- 
glish come  unbidden  from  the  depths  of  the  soul,  from  a  sort  of 
unconscious  inspiration." 


446  OBJECT  TEACHING. 

Then,  again,  all  subjects  which  are  purely  mental,  especially 
those  which  have  as  their  substance  things  hoped  for,  and  as  theh 
evidence  things  not  seen,  are  beyond  the  reach  of  object  lessons. 
Thoughts,  feelings,  volitions,  intellectual  states;  all  notions  of 
space  and  time,  of  aesthetic  and  moral  qualities;  all  ideas  of  the 
absolute  and  the  infinite,  and  finally,  of  God,  as  the  unapproached 
and  unapproachable  fountain  and  source  of  all ;  all  these  rise  im- 
measurably above  the  realm  of  the  senses.  Indeed,  the  introduc- 
tion of  material  forms  would  rather  obscure  than  aid  in  illustrating 
many  of  these  subjects.  Of  these  we  may  form  what  is  logically 
called  a  notion  by  combining  their  notce  or  characteristics,  but  we 
can  never  represent  them  to  the  eye  of  the  mind  by  form  or  image. 
Objects  may  have  been  the  occasion  of  calling  up  many  of  these 
ideas,  but  they  are,  by  no  means,  the  source  of  them.  They  ad- 
dress themselves  to  the  interior  consciousness  alone,  never  to  the 
sertses.  All  knowledge  springing  from  this  source  is  rational  rather 
than  experimental.  Yet  let  it  not  be  understood  that  it  is  entirely 
dissociated  from  physical  forms.  We  use  this  rational  knowledge 
in  thousands  of  ways,  in  our  connection  with  the  external  world. 

Let  us  pass  to  our  second  inquiry.  So  far  as  our  knowledge  has 
its  source  in  external  objects,  how  far  can  any  educational  processes 
facilitate  the  acquisition  of  it  ? 

The  thoughts  of  the  Creator,  as  expressed  in  the  outer  world, 
would  remain  forever  uninterpreted  but  for  the  presence  of  a  know- 
ing, thinking  being,  whose  organism  is  in  harmony  with  Nature. 
In  early  infancy,  the  minimum  if  not  the  zero  point  of  intelligence,, 
there  is  little  or  no  appearance  of  such  adaptation.  We  see  only  a 
sentient  being,  impelled  chiefly  if  not  wholly  by  instinct.  The 
highest  form  of  observation  results  in  mere  sensation.  It  is  akin  to 
that  of  the  brute.  Soon,  however,  the  child  awakes  to  the  con- 
sciousness that  what  he  sees  is  no  part  of  himself.  He  distinguishes 
between  himself  and  the  objects  around  him.  His  intelligent  na- 
ture, which  before  existed  only  in  germ,  is  called  into  action.  He 
interprets  his  sensations,  and  these  interpretations  are  called  percep- 
tions. Now  commences  the  period  for  the  spontaneous  cultivation 
of  the  perceptive  faculty.  Nature  is  ready  with  the  proper  aliment 
for  its  nourishment,  and  wise  is  that  parent  who  sees  to  it  that  his 
child  receives  without  stint.  This  is  the  period  of  greatest  acute- 
ness  of  this  faculty — the  period  when  an  instinctive  curiosity  sup- 
plies the  place  occupied,  later  in  life,  by  a  determined  will.  It  is 
the  period  for  absorbing  knowledge  miscellaneously.  Blessed  is 
that  child  whose  lot  is  cast  where  Nature  in  her  purest  and  loveliest 


OBJECT  TEACHING.  44? 

forms  daily  feasts  all  his  senses.  Now  is  the  time  for  gathering  food 
for  the  higher  faculties  which  exist  either  in  embryo,  or  with  only  a 
feeble  development.  The  knowledge  gained  is  without  order,  and 
purelv  elementary.  During  this,  which  may  be  called  the  nursery 
period,  little  or  no  instruction  can  be  given.  The  faculties  act 
spontaneously,  and  with  very  little  guidance  from  without. 

Even  at  this  period  the  faculty  of  memory  must  be  developed ; 
for  the  mind  instinctively  grasps  at  the  whole  of  an  object.  Yet  a 
single  perception  gives  only  the  whole  of  one  aspect.  Be  it  a 
mite,  a  shell,  or  a  mountain — it  must  have  many  aspects — an  in- 
terior and  an  exterior.  It  has  parts  and  properties.  After  the 
mind  has  contemplated  every  one  of  these  in  succession,  it  can  not 
then  form  one  complete  whole  without  retaining  all  the  previous 
perceptions.  This  process  of  taking  together  into  one  whole  all  the 
parts,  aspects,  and  qualities  of  an  object,  and  drawing  off  for  the 
use  of  the  mind  a  kind  of  photograph  or  mental  picture,  is  called, 
as  the  term  signifies,  conception.  It  is  the  result  of  many  varied, 
attentive,  and  careful  perceptions  in  connection  with  memory. 
These  conceptions,  again,  are  laid  away  in  the  memory  for  future 
use.  As  they  are  recalled,  and,  as  it  were,  placed  before  the  eye 
of  the  mind,  they  have  been  variously  denominated  conceptions, 
concepts,  ideas,  notions,  reproductions,  or  images.  The  name  is 
of  but  little  consequence,  provided  that  we  all  understand  them  to 
be  the  results  of  perception,  addressing  themselves  to  our  internal 
sight  or  consciousness — that  they  are  quasi-objects,  internal  reali- 
ties, with  corresponding  external  realities.  And  yet,  in  using  the 
term  conception  or  concept,  as  equivalent  to  the  image  mental 
picture  or  reproduction  of  a  single  object,  we  should  be  careful  to 
regard  it  as  a  conception  in  its  depth  and  intention,  not  in  the 
whole  breadth  or  extent  of  its  application ;  for  to  reach  this  re- 
quires the  exercise  of  the  higher  faculties. 

In  the  period  of  infancy,  before  the  power  of  speech  is  developed, 
children  form  those  conceptions  whose  very  existence  stimulates  to 
the  use  of  language.  They  early  become' the  occasions  for  distin- 
guishing between  what  is  true  and  what  is  false,  what  has  an  in- 
ternal seeming  with  an  external  reality,  and  what  has  an  internal 
seeming  without  an  external  reality.  At  an  early  period  the  mind 
finds  itself  able  to  project  forms  of  its  own,  to  build  castles  and  pal- 
aces, create  gorgeous  scenes,  and  dwell  upon  them  as  though 
they  had  a  corresponding  external  existence.  This  power  of  imagi- 
nation was  formerly  applied  only  to  that  faculty  by  which  new 
scenes  or  forms  were  produced  by  combinations  derived  from  actual 


448  OBJECT  TEACHING. 

conceptions.     Latterly,  it  is  more  generally  applied  to  the  faculty 
of  forming  images,  whatever  their  source. 

Still  another  power  manifests  itself  before  much  can  be  done  by 
way  of  direct  culture.  It  comes  in  answer  to  an  interior  demand. 
It  is  the  power  of  language.  Let  us  not  mistake  its  functions,  or 
the  mode  of  cultivating  it.  It  is  not  called  forth  by  any  human 
agency.  It  springs  up  spontaneously  as  soon  as  the  pressure  for 
utterance  demands  its  development. 

While  an  external  object  may  be  viewed  by  thousands  in  com- 
mon, the  conception  of  it  addresses  itself  only  to  the  individual 
consciousness.  My  conception  is  mine  alone — the  reward  of  care- 
less observation,  if  imperfect ;  of  attentive,  careful,  and  varied  ob- 
servation, if  correct.  Between  mine  and  yours  a  great  gulf  is  fixed. 
No  man  can  pass  from  mine  to  yours,  or  from  yours  to  mine. 
Neither  in  any  proper  sense  of  the  term  can  mine  be  conveyed  to 
you,  nor  yours  to  me.  Words  do  not  convey  thoughts;  they  are 
not  the  vehicles  of  thoughts  in  any  true  sense  of  that  term ;  a  word 
is  simply,  a  common  symbol  which  each  associates  with  his  own 
conception. 

Neither  can  I  compare  mine  with  yours  except  through  the  me- 
diation of  external  objects.  And  then  how  do  I  know  that  they 
are  alike?  that  a  measure  called  a  foot,  for  instance,  seems  as  long 
to  you  as  to  me?  My  conception  of  a  new  object,  which  you  and  I 
observe  together,  may  be  very  imperfect.  By  it  I  may  attribute  to 
the  object  what  does  not  belong  to  it,  take  from  it  what  does,  dis- 
tort its  form,  or  otherwise  pervert  it.  Suppose  now  at  the  time  of 
observation  we  agree  upon  a  word  as  a  sign  or  symbol  for  the  object 
or  the  conception.  The  object  is  withdrawn ;  the  conception  only 
remains, — imperfect  in  my  case,  complete  and  vivid  in  yours.  The 
sign  is  employed.  Does  it  bring  back  the  original  object?  By  no 
means.  Does  it  convey  my  conception  to  your  mind  ?  Nothing 
of  the  kind ;  you  would  be  disgusted  at  the  shapeless  image.  Does 
it  convey  yours  to  me  ?  No ;  I  should  be  delighted  at  the  sight. 
What  does  it  effect?  It  becomes  the  occasion  for  each  to  call  up 
his  own  conception.  Does  each  now  contemplate  the  same  thing  ? 
What  multitudes  of  dissimilar  images  instantly  spring  up  at  the 
announcement  of  the  same  symbol ! — dissimilar,  not  because  of  any 
thing  in  the  one  source  whence  they  are  derived,  but  because  of 
either  an  inattentive  and  imperfect  observation  of  that  source,  or  of 
some  constitutional  or  habitual  defect  in  the  use  of  the  perceptive 
faculty.  What  must  be  the  actual  condition  of  children,  then,  at 
the  proper  age  to  enter  school  ? 


OBJECT  TEACHING.  449 

At  this  very  point  lie  the  greatest  deficiencies  in  the  ordinary- 
teaching  of  our  schools.  It  may  be  reasonably  supposed  that  chil- 
dren at  the  proper  age  to  enter  school  have  substantially  correct 
conceptions  of  the  limited  number  of  objects  which  fall  under  their 
daily  observation.  Of  this,  however,  we  must  not  be  too  certain, 
especially  if  we  have  occasion  to  refer  to  marks  or  qualities  which 
lie  beyond  the  most  common  observation.  We  may  use  an  appro- 
priate term  applied  to  some  familiar  object,  some  aspect  of  a  tree, 
as  in  case  of  Dr.  Hill's  little  girl ;  the  object  may  be  a  familiar  one, 
the  term  may  have  been  heard  a  thousand  times,  and  yet  the  child 
may  never  have  dreamed  that  the  one  applies  to  the  other.  What 
conception  will  the  use  of  such  a  term  occasion  ?  Because  the 
term  and  its  application  are  familiar  to  the  teacher,  he  makes  the 
fatal  mistake  of  supposing  them  so  to  the  child.  His  teaching,  in 
consequence,  is  so  far  powerless.  Words  have  no  mysterious 
power  of  creating  conceptions.  True  it  is  that  the  mind,  at  length, 
acquires  the  power  of  divining  the  application  of  words  from  their 
connection.  But  we  must  not  presume  this  in  children. 

Again,  there  is  to  every  child  the  region  of  the  clearly  known, 
and  the  region  of  the  faintly  known,  lying  just  beyond.  All  terms 
which  apply  to  objects  in  this  region  have  but  a  misty  significance, 
and  arc  often  misapplied.  Yet  in  the  school-room  they  are  liable 
to  be  used  as  if  well  understood. 

All  terms  relating  to  what  is  unknown  to  the  child,  whether 
scientific  terms  pertaining  to  latent  properties  of  familiar  things,  or 
familiar  and  popular  terms  pertaining  to  unknown  things,  are  value- 
less when  used  by  teacher  or  pupil. 

Again,  the  abstract  definitions  at  the  commencement  of  the  read- 
ing lesson,  or  taken  from  the  dictionary,  are  usually  deceptive  and 
unreliable ;  they  merely  exchange  an  unknown  term  for  another 
equally  unknown.  In  other  words,  they  do  not  create  conceptions. 

The  usual  process  of  teaching  children  to  read,  or  indeed  any 
process,  unless  great  pains  are  taken,  tends  to  make  the  direct  ob- 
ject of  reading  the  mere  utterance  of  words,  and  not  the  awaken- 
ing of  conceptions.  And  hence  arises  that  kind  of  chronic  stupid- 
ity which  so  often  marks  all  school  exercises.  Let  any  teacher  first 
fill  his  own  mind  with  a  vivid  picture  of  the  objects  which  the 
words  of  a  single  lesson  should  call  up,  and  then  call  upon  his  best 
class  to  repeat  the  language,  carefully  searching  for  their  ideas,  and 
he  will  find  the  deficiency  in  actual  conception  most  astonishing. 

Again,  the  theory  of  teaching  with  many,  if  we  may  infer  their 
theory  from  their  practice,  is  to  require  the  pupil  to  commit  to 


450  OBJECT  TEACHING. 

memory  the  terms  and  statements  of  the  text-book,  whether  they 
awaken  conceptions  or  not,  and  to  regard  the  standard  of  excellence 
as  fluency  of  utterance  and  accuracy  in  repeating  terms. 

Now  against  all  this  way  of  teaching  language,  object  teaching, 
in  any  proper  sense  of  the  term,  raises  an  earnest  and  perpetual 
protest. 

But  what  is  object  teaching?  Not  that  so-called  object  teaching 
which  is  confined  to  a  few  blocks  and  cards  to  be  taken  from  the 
teacher's  desk,  at  set  times,  to  exhibit  a  limited  round  of  angles, 
triangles,  squares,  cubes,  cones,  pyramids,  or  circles;  not  that 
which  requires  the  pupil  to  take  some  model  of  an  object  lesson. 
drawn  out  merely  as  a  specimen,  and  commit  it  to  memory ;  nor  is 
it  that  injudicious  method  which  some  teachers  have  adopted  in 
order  to  be  thorough,  that  leads  them  to  develop  distinctions  which 
are  suited  only  to  the  investigations  of  science ;  nor  is  it  a  foolish 
adherence  to  the  use  of  actual  objects  when  clear  conceptions  have 
been  formed  and  may  take  the  place  of  physical  forms ;  nor  is  it 
that  excessive  talking  about  objects  which  makes  the  teacher  do 
every  thing,  and  leaves  the  child  to  do  nothing, — that  assigns  no  task 
to  be  performed — a  most  wretched  and  reprehensible  practice ;  nor, 
again,  is  it  that  which  makes  a  few  oral  lessons,  without  any  thing 
else,  the  entire  work  of  the  school. 

But  it  is  that  which  takes  into  the  account  the  whole  realm  of 
Nature  and  Art,  so  far  as  the  child  has  examined  it,  assumes  as 
known  only  what  the  child  knows — not  what  the  teacher  knows — 
and  works  from  the  well  known  to  the  obscurely  known,  and  so  on- 
ward and  upward  till  the  learner  can  enter  the  fields  of  science  or 
abstract  thought.  It  is  that  which  develops  the  abstract  from  the 
concrete, — which  develops  the  idea,  then  gives  the  term.  It  is  that 
which  appeals  to  the  intelligence  of  the  child,  and  that  through  the 
senses  until  clear  and  vivid  conceptions  are  formed,  and  then  uses 
these  conceptions  as  something  real  and  vital.  It  is  that  which 
follows  Nature's  order — the  thing,  the  conception,  the  word ;  so 
that  when  this  order  is  reversed — the  word,  the  conception,  the 
thing — the  chain  of  connection  shall  not  be  broken.  The  word 
shall  instantly  occasion  the  conception,  and  the  conception  shall  be 
accompanied  with  the  firm  conviction  of  a  corresponding  external 
reality.  It  is  that  which  insists  upon  something  besides  mere 
empty  verbal  expressions  in  every  school  exercise — in  other  words, 
expression  and  thought  in  place  of  expression  and  no  thought.  It 
is  that  which  cultivates  expression  as  an  answer  to  an  inward  press- 
ing want,  rather  than  a  fanciful  collection  of  pretty  phrases  culled 


OBJECT  TEACHING.  451 

from  different  authors,  and  having  the  peculiar  merit  of  sounding 
well.  It  is  that  which  makes  the  school  a  place  where  the  child 
comes  in  contact  with  realities  just  such  as  appeal  to  his  common 
sense,  as  when  he  roamed  at  pleasure  in  the  fields, — and  not  a  place 
for  irksome  idleness, — not  a  place  where  the  most  delightful  word 
uttered  by  the  teacher  is  "  dismissed."  It  is  that  which  relieves 
the  child's  task  only  by  making  it  intelligible  and  possible,  not  by 
taking  the  burden  from  him.  It  bids  him  examine  for  himself,  dis- 
criminate for  himself,  and  express  for  himself, — the  teacher,  the 
while,  standing  by  to  give  hints  and  suggestions, — not  to  relieve  the 
labor.  In  short,  it  is  that  which  addresses  itself  directly  to  the  eye 
external  or  internal,  which  summons  to  its  aid  things  present  or 
things  absent,  things  past  or  things  to  come,  and  bids  them  yield 
the  lessons  which  they  infold, — which  deals  with  actual  existence, 
and  not  with  empty  dreams — a  living  realism  and  not  a  fossil  dog- 
matism. It  is  to  be  introduced  in  a  systematic  way,  if  it  can  be 
done, — without  much  form  where  system  is  impracticable ;  but  in- 
troduced it  should  be  in  some  way  every  where.  It  will  aid  any 
teacher  in  correcting  dogmatic  tendencies,  by  enlivening  his  lessons, 
and  giving  zest  to  his  instructions.  He  will  draw  from  the  heavens 
above,  and  from  the  earth  beneath,  or  from  the  waters  under  the 
earth,  from  the  world  without,  and  from  the  world  within.  He 
will  not  measure  his  lessons  by  pages,  nor  progress  by  fluency  of 
utterance.  He  will  dwell  in  living  thought,  surrounded  by  living 
thinkers, — leaving  at  every  point  the  impress  of  an  objective  and  a 
subjective  reality.  Thoughtful  himself,  he  will  be  thought-stirring 
in  all  his  teaching.  In  fact,  his  very  presence,  with  his  thought- 
inspiring  methods,  gives  tone  to  his  whole  school.  Virtue  issues 
unconsciously  from  his  every  look  and  every  act.  He  himself  be- 
comes a  model  of  what  his  pupils  should  be.  To  him  an  exercise 
in  geography  will  not  be  a  stupid  verbatim  recitation  of  descriptive 
paragraphs,  but  a  stretching  out  of  the  mental  vision  to  see  in  liv- 
ing picture  ocean  and  continent,  mountain  and  valley,  river  and 
lake,  not  on  a  level  plane,  but  rounded  up  to  conform  to  the  curva- 
ture of  a  vast  globe.  The  description  of  a  prairie  on  fire,  by  the 
aid  of  the  imagination,  will  be  wrought  up  into  a  brilliant  object 
lesson.  A  reading  lesson  descriptive  of  a  thunder  storm  on  Mount 
Washington  will  be  something  more  than  a  mere  comformity  to  the- 
rules  of  the  elocutionist.  It  will  be  accompanied  with  a  conception 
wrought  into  the  child's  mind,  outstripped  in  grandeur  only  by  the- 
scene  itself.  The  mind's  eye  will  see  the  old  mountain  itself,  with 
its  surroundings  of  gorge  and  cliff,  of  woodland  and  barren  rock,  of 


452  OBJECT  Ti:\<n iv. 

deep  ravine  and  craggy  peak.  It  will  sec  the  majestic  thunder- 
cloud moving  up,  with  its  snow-white  summits  resting  on  walls  as 
black  as  midnight  darkness.  The  ear  will  almost  hear  the  peals  of 
muttering  thunder  as  they  reverberate  from  hill  to  hill. 

A  proper  care  on  the  part  of  the  teacher  may  make  such  a  scene 
an  all-absorbing  lesson.  It  is  an  object  lesson — at  least,  a  quasi- 
object  lesson — just  such  as  should  be  daily  mingled  with  those  on 
external  realities.  To  give  such  lessons  requires,  on  the  part  of  the 
teacher,  a  quickened  spirit — a  kind  of  intellectual  regeneration. 
Let  him  but  try  it  faithfully  and  honestly,  and  he  will  soon  find 
himself  emerging  from  the  dark  forms  of  Judaism  into  the  clear 
light  of  a  new  dispensation.  Indeed,  this  allusion  contains  more 
than  a  resemblance.  The  founder  of  the  new  dispensation  was 
called,  by  way  of  eminence,  "  The  Master."  In  him  was  embodied 
and  set  forth  the  art  of  teaching.  He  was  the  "teacher  come  from 
God"  to  reveal  in  his  own  person  and  practice  God's  ideal  of 
teaching.  And  did  he  n«>t  invariably  descend  to  the  concrete  even 
with  hi*  adult  disciples?  Hence  it  was  that  the  common  people 
heard  him  gladly.  Whoever  will  study  the  lessons  given  by  him 
will  see  with  what  unparalleled  skill  he  passed  from  concrete  forms 
up  to  abstract  truths.  He  seldom  commenced  with  the  abstract. 
"A  <M\V»T  went  forth  to  sow;"  "A  certain  man  had  two  sons;"  "I 
am  the  vine,  ye  are  the  branches,"  are  specimens  of  the  way  he 
would  open  a  lesson  to  unfold  some  important  abstract  truth.  The 
vatise  on  object  teaching  extant  is  the  four  Gospels.  Com- 
mencing as  if  he  discovered  an  interior  fitness  in  the  object  itself, 
he  would  lay  under  contribution  the  wheat,  the  tares,  the  grass,  the 
lilies,  the  water,  the  bread,  the  harvest,  the  cloud,  or  the  passing 
event,  and  that  to  give  some  important  lesson  to  his  disciples. 

The  abstract  we  must  teach,  but  our  teaching  need  not  be  abstract. 
We  may  approach  the  abstract  through  the  concrete.  We  must  do 
it  in  many  cases.  And  the  methods  of  our  Saviour  are  the  divine 
methods  informally  expressed  in  his  life.  Let  us  reverently  study 
them,  and  enter  into  the  spirit  with  which  they  were  employed. 
Such,  in  brief,  are  the  fundamental  uses  of  objects ;  such  the  adapta- 
tion of  the  human  mind  in  its  development  to  external  Nature  ;  such 
its  growth  and  ever  increasing  capacity  to  interpret  the  revelations 
of  her  myriad  forms ;  and  such  the  wonderful  power  of  language. 

Let  us  now  commence  at  the  period  when  it  is  proper  for  a  child 
to  enter  school.  What  is  to  engross  his  attention  now?  In  any 
system  of  teaching,  all  concede  that  one  of  his  first  employments 
should  be  to  learn  the  new  language — the  language  of  printed  sym- 


OBJECT  TEACHING.  453 

bolt  addressed,  not  to  the  ear,  but  to  the  eye.  And  here  commence 
the  iii'»t  divergent  paths.  The  more  common  method  is  to  drop 
entirely  all  that  has  hitherto  occupied  the  child's  attention,  present 
him  with  the  alphabet,  point  out  the  several  letters,  and  bid  him 
e«-ln'  their  names  in  response  to  the  teacher's  voice.  By  far  the 
greatest  pi»rt'n»n  of  his  time  is  passed  in  a  species  of  confinement 
and  inactivity,  which  ill  comports  with  his  former  restless  habits. 
Usually  occupied  in  his  school  work  but  twice — and  then  for  a  few 
moments  only — during  each  session,  he  advances  from  necessity 
slowly,  and  this  imprisonment  becomes  irksome  and  offensive.  To 
one  who  is  not  blinded  by  this  custom,  which  has  the  sanction  of  a 
ivinote  antiquity,  the  inquiry  naturally  forces  itself  upon  his  atten- 
tion,— Is  all  this  necessary  ?  Must  the  child,  because  he  is  learning 
a  new  language,  forget  the  old?  May  he  not  be  allowed  to  speak 
at  times,  even  in  school,  and  utter  the  vital  thoughts  that  once  filled 
his  mind  with  delight?  May  he  not  have  some  occupation  that 
shall  not  only  satisfy  the  restless  activities  of  his  nature,  but  also 
shall  gratify  his  earnest  desire  for  knowledge  ?  Must  he  be  made 
to  feel  that  the  new  language  of  printed  letters  has  no  relation  to 
the  old  ?  Does  he  reach. the  goal  of  his  school  work,  as  too  often 
seems  the  case,  when  he  can  pronounce  words  by  looking  at  their 
printed  forms  ?  Why  not  recognize  in  the  printed  word  the  same 
vital  connection  between  the  word  and  the  thought  as  before? 
Why  not  follow  the  dictates  of  a  sound  philosophy — the  simple 
suggestions  of  common  sense — and  recognize  the  fact  that  the  child 
comes  fresh  from  the  school  of  Nature,  where  actual  scenes  and  real 
objects  have  engrossed  his  whole  attention,  and  have  been  the 
source  of  all  that  has  made  his  life  so  happy?  If  so,  then  why  not 
let  him  draw  freely  from  this  source  while  learning  to  read ;  nay,  as 
far  as  possible,  make  the  very  act  of  learning  to  read  tributary  to 
the  same  end,  and,  at  the  earliest  possible  time,  make  it  appear  that 
the  new  acquisition  is  but  a  delightful  ally  of  his  present  power  to 
speak  ?  The  transition  from  his  free  and  happy  life  at  home  to  the 
confinement  of  the  school-room  will  be  less  painful  to  him,  and  at 
the  same  time  it  will  be  apparent  that  the  school  is  not  a  place  to 
check  but  to  encourage  investigation. 

Such  inquiries  as  these  have  occupied  the  minds  of  intelligent 
educators  who  have  ventured  to  question  the  wisdom  of  past  meth- 
ods. And  they  have  led  to  the  introduction  of  methods  designed 
to  occupy  the  time,  and  give  interesting  employment  to  the  chil- 
dren. They  have  led  to  the  introduction  of  objects  familiar  and  in- 
teresting. Lessons  are  drawn  from  them  which  give  the  same  im 


454  OBJECT  TEACHING. 

ession  of  practicalness  and  reality  as  the  children  received  before 
the  restraints  of  school  life  commenced.  They  lead  to  direct  and 
animated  conversation  between  the  teacher  and  the  pupils.  They 
are  thus  instrumental  in  revealing  to  the  teacher  the  defective  and 
scanty  language  of  the  children.  At  the  same  time  they  furnish 
the  best  means  for  cultivating  the  use  of  words.  Lessons  on  objects 
do  vastly  more.  By  means  of  these  the  teacher  soon  learns  that  the 
children  have  not  used  their  perceptive  faculties  to  good  advantage. 
Their  observations  have  been  careless  and  negligent.  Their  con- 
ceptions are  consequently  faulty.  He  has  it  in  his  power  now  to 
quicken  this  faculty,  and  correct  defective  conceptions.  More  than 
this,  he  has  a  plan  for  the  future.  The  very  points  which  he  wishes 
the  children  to  observe  now  are  to  become  hereafter  the  basis  of 
scientific  knowledge.  Thus  form  and  color,  weights  and  measures, 
part  and  qualities,  are  carefully  observed. 

So,  again,  the  very  acquisition  of  the  printed  language  becomes  a 
kind  of  object  lesson.  The  sound  of  a  familiar  word  is  given,  its 
meaning  is  known  and  recognized, — its  elementary  parts  are  drawn 
out  and  given  both  by  the  teacher  and  the  pupils, — the  characters  or 
letters  are  applied  and  placed  upon  the  blackboard.  The  sounds 
are  combined  into  the  spoken  word,  the  letters  into  the  printed, 
and  the  word,  whether  printed  or  spoken,  is  instantly  associated 
with  the  idea. 

Work  for  the  slate  is  now  prepared ;  the  letters  are  to  be  made 
by  the  children,  the  words  to  be  formed,  the  meaning  to  be  made 
out.  Reading  from  the  slate  or  the  blackboard  is  soon  commenced, 
and  it  must  have  the  peculiar  merit  of  uttering  thoughts  familiar  to 
the  child.  Any  child  can  read  understandingly  what  he  has  him- 
self developed  and  written  with  his  own  hand.  The  teacher  devel- 
ops new  thoughts ;  but  they  are  thoughts  drawn  directly  from  pres- 
ent objects,  and  recorded  upon  the  board  or  the  slate.  They  can 
not  be  tortured  by  that  blundering,  drawling  utterance  which  the 
school-room  usually  engenders  and  tolerates.  Language  can  be  cul- 
tivated from  a  new  point  of  view.  The  spoken  and  written  word 
can  be  compared.  The  errors  of  home  and  street  life  are  more 
readily  corrected. 

These  several  processes  of  developing  and  writing  or  printing 
keep  all  the  children  at  work.  Instead  of  having  seven-eighths  of 
their  time  devoted  to  irksome  idleness,  the  children  have  something 
to  do,  all  of  which  contributes  efficiently  to,  at  least,  three  distinct 
ends — learning  to  read  more  rapidly  and  more  intelligently, — advan- 
cing in  useful  knowledge  for  present  purposes, — laying  the  founda 


OBJECT  TEACHING.  455 

tion  for  future  growth  by  a  correct  acquisition  of  the  elements  ot 
knowledge. 

The  habit  which  children  thus  early  acquire  of  putting  on  record 
what  they  learn  or  develop  can  not  be  too  highly  valued.  In  the 
ordinary  methods  of  teaching,  they  look  upon  all  attempts  at  com- 
position with  a  sort  of  dread  from  which  they  seldom  recover 
through  their  whole  school  life.  But  in  this  way,  from  the  begh- 
ning,  they  grow  up  to  the  daily  habit  of  composing  their  own  real 
thoughts  under  the  guidance  of  the  teacher. 

But  the  chief  and  highest  advantage  of  giving  these  lessons  lies 
not  so  much  in  any  one,  or  perhaps  in  all  of  these,  as  in  its  direct 
influence  upon  the  teacher  himself.  It  can  not  be  pursued  even 
tolerably  well  without  making  it  manifest  to  any  one  that  the  great 
object  of  teaching  is  to  deal  with  ideas  rather  than  to  crowd  the 
memory  with  words.  He  who  can  give  an  object  lesson  well  is  ca- 
pable of  giving  any  lesson  well,  because  he  has  learned  that  it  is  the 
reality  and  not  the  expression  of  it  that  is  the  chief  object  to  be 
gained.  He  who  mal  .>s  it  his  first,  second,  and  last  aim  to  teach 
realities,  wi1!  soon  discover  two  essential  conditions.  He  must 
know  the  present  capacity  and  attainments  of  the  child,  and  then 
vhnt  realities  are  united  to  them.  If  it  were  not  for  one  fact,  our 
Primary  Schools  .vould  be  filled  with  a  cabinet  of  natural  objects  as 
varied  as  those  that  fill  halls  of  our  highest  institutions,  and  that  is 
the  simple  fact  that  children  can  remember  -vords  as  words,  without 
associating  them  with  any  idea  whatever.  They  can  use  words 
which  mean  much,  yet  with  them  they  mean  nothing.  They  can 
repeat  them  fluently, — give  emphasis  to  them  in  imitation  of  the 
*-.°'?Ver's  voice.  They  can  use  them  as  though  they  really  meant 
something.  Yet  more — they  can  see  that  the  teacher  accepts  them 
as  though  all  was  right.  Now  here  is  a  double  evil.  The  teacher 
is  a  stranger  to  the  child's  real  condition,  and  the  child  supposes 
he  is  actually  learning  something. 

One  reason  why  so  many  are  opposed  to  Object  Teaching — or 
Reality  Teaching  it  should  be  called — is  the  simple  fact  that  they 
can  not  readily  free  themselves  from  the  impression  that  their 
knowledge  of  the  subjects  to  be  taught  is  somehow  necessarily  con- 
nected with  the  janguage  of  the  text-book.  They  have  never  tried 
to  disengage  it  from  the  particular  forms  into  which  some  author  has 
molded  it  They  use  technical  terms — and  the  worst  of  technical 
terms — because  they  know  no  other.  There  is  an  almost  servile 
dependence  upon  the  use  of  certain  terms.  And  if  the  whole  truth 
were  known,  it  might  appear  that  the  idea  is  not  sufficiently  mas- 


456  OBJECT  TEACHING. 

tered  to  disengage  it  from  the  term.     How  can  such  a  teacher  do 
otherwise  than  cling  to  authority  ? 

Yet  the  very  essence  of  teaching  lies  in  a  living  apprehension  of 
the  subject  itself — such  an  apprehension  as  will  enable  the  teacher 
to  adapt  his  instruction  to  the  child's  real  wants — just  what  a  text- 
book, if  good,  can  not  do.  "Teach  realities"  is  the  true  teacher's 
motto.  To  this  he  commits  himself; — nay,  crosses  the  river  and 
burns  the  bridge.  He  is  ashamed  of  his  teaching  if  it  is  any  thing 
short  of  this.  Hence,  his  ingenuity,  his  aptness,  his  versatility,  his 
varied  resorts  in  an  emergency.  He  can  teach  with  a  text-book,  or 
without  it.  A  text-book  in  his  hand  becomes  alive.  It  must  be 
understood. 

Would  you  really  know  whether  a  candidate  for  the  teacher's 
office  is  a  good  teacher  or  not  ?  You  need  not  examine  him  with 
difficult  questions  in  Arithmetic,  in  Algebra,  in  Geography,  or  in 
History.  You  need  not  examine  him  at  all.  But  put  him  into  the 
school-room,  take  from  it  every  printed  page  for  the  use  of  the 
teacher  or  pupil.  Give  him  blackboards, — give  them  slates;  Let 
him  have  ears  of  corn,  pine  cones,  shells,  and  as  many  other  objects 
as  he  chooses  to  collect,  and  then  require  him  to  give  lessons  in 
reading,  spelling,  arithmetic,  geography,  and  the  English  language. 
If  the  children  come  home  full  of  curious  questions, — if  they  love  to 
talk  of  what  they  do  at  school,  if  at  the  end  of  a  week  you  find 
them  thinking  earnestly  of  their  occupation  at  school, — deeply  inter- 
ested,— intent  upon  their  school  exercises, — then  employ  him, — em- 
ploy him  at  any  price,  though  he  may  not  have  graduated  at  the 
University,  the  Academy,  or  even  the  Normal  School.  Whenever 
needed,  allow  him  or  the  children  books.  You  are  sure  of  a  good 
school. 

How  much  is  the  spirit  of  that  teacher  improved  who  leads  his 
pupil  directly  to  the  fountain  of  truth,  and  pays  willing  homage  to 
it  as  truth !  Teachers  may  be  divided  in  this  respect  into  three 
classes.  The  first  are  those  who  are  servilely  bound  to  a  text- 
book ;  who  are  scarcely  able  to  conceive  a  truth  apart  from  the  an- 
cient term  employed  to  express  it ;  wno  never  see  it  in  its  freshness ; 
sticklers  for  exact  verbal  recitations ;  formalists,  not  to  say  dogma- 
tists ;  inveterate  advocates  for  authority,  and  firm  defenders  of  what 
they  regard  as  a  healthful  conservatism  in  education. 

The  second  are  those  who  have  so  far  broken  away  from  the 
trammels  of  methods  and  forms  as  to  investigate  the  truth  for  them 
selves;  who  taste  its  vivifying  power,  draw  from  its  pure  sources, 
but  who  are  anxious  to  promulgate  and  perpetuate,  not  so  much 


OBJECT  TEACHING.  457 

the  truth,  as  truth,  as  their  own  opinions  of  it ;  who  would  make 
themselves  the  head  of  a  party  or  school,  having  followers  who  think 
as  they  think,  believe  as  they  believe,  employ  terms  as  they  employ 
terms,  defend  methods  and  forms  as  they  defend  them ;  influential 
they  are  and  must  be.  They  do  good ;  they  are  lights  in  the 
profession. 

The  third  class  are  those  who  are  anxious, — not  that  their  pupils 
should  see  the  truth  just  as  they  see  it,  but  that  they  should  see  and 
experience  the  truth  itself; — solicitous,  not  to  propogate  views,  but 
living  truth ;  not  the  Rabbi  who  would  reject  the  audible  voice 
from  above,  if  not  uttered  first  to  the  priest  and  through  him  to  the 
people,  but  rather  Eli  bidding  the  young  prophet  elect,  about  to 
succeed  him  in  office,  to  enter  the  audience  chamber  of  the  Al- 
mighty to  hear  the  voice  for  himself; — nay,  Eli  directing  the  boy, 
his  own  pupil,  to  return  with  a  faithful  report  of  what  he  hears. 

These  are  they  who  rise  to  the  true  dignity  of  the  teacher's  pro- 
fession ;  who  lead  their  pupils  into  communion  with  nature,  because 
she  unfolds  the  thoughts  of  the  Eternal  One;  who  reverence  truth, 
rather  than  the  dogmas  of  any  sect  or  party ;  who  aim  rather  to 
render  their  own  services  unnecessary,  than  to  restrain,  for  any 
selfish  end,  a  free  access  to  the  truth. 

Such  are  some  of  the  uses  of  Object  Teaching  in  the  broad  and 
true  sense  of  the  term.  That  any  faultless  system  can  be  devised 
to  carry  it  out  we  may  not  hope.  That  all  persons  will  be  equally 
successful  in  practicing  it  is  too  much  to  expect.  That  something 
called  Object  Teaching  has  been  tried  and  failed  as,  with  the  meth- 
ods employed,  it  ought  to  do,  no  one  denies.  That  some  have  pur- 
sued a  kind  of  Obiect  Teaching,  and  have  met  with  indifferent  suc- 
cess, is  also  conceded.  It  should  never  be  the  only  exercise  of  the 
school-room.  It  should  never  displace  regular  work,  but  rather 
become  a  part  of  it.  It  should  give  life  and  zest  to  it.  It  should 
never  be  made  a  hobby,  or  carried  to  an  extreme.  It  should  never 
be  used  as  an  end.  On  this  point  Mr.  Pickard,  a  member  of  the 
committee,  says : — 

(1.)  I  fear  that  Object  Teaching,  as  generally  conducted,  looks  rather  to  im- 
mediate than  to  less  showy,  but  more  valuable,  results. 

(2.)  Its  tendency,  unless  very  carefully  checked,  is  to  make  of  children  pass- 
ive recipients,  while  teachers  talk  more  than  they  instruct. 

(3.)  Carefully  used,  it  will  awaken  to  new  thought,  and  will  encourage  to  the 
mastery  of  difficulties  suggested  or  rather  thrown  in  the  way  of  pupils.  But 
only  master  minds  can  so  use  it.  Not  every  school  teacher  has  the  power  of 
Agassiz. 

(4.)  And  yet  the  nature  of  the  child  demands  such  teaching,  and  will  not  be 
satisfied  without  it,  though  not  by  any  means,  as  I  conceive,  to  the  exclusion 
of  other  methods  of  teaching.  Object  Teaching  is  very  good;  but  if  it  have  no 
object,  it  is  thenceforth  good  for  nothing  but  to  be  trodden  under  foot  of  men. 


•468  OBJECT  TEACHING 

Again,  object  lessons  should  not  be  allowed  to  fall  into  a  mere? 
routine,  or  to  follow  implicitly  the  models  of  some  text-book,  and 
not  the  leadings  of  the  subject  in  question,  gathering  inspiration 
from  some  incidental  circumstance  which  may  change  the  shape  of 
the  lesson.  They  may  often  be  made  more  apt  and  opportune  by 
^ome  occurrence,  as  a  thunder-storm,  or  the  presence  of  some  im- 
pressive scene.  They  should  be  varied  with  every  varying  occasion, 
varied  in  form,  varied  in  matter,  varied  in  the  manner  of  giving 
them,  and  cease  as  formal  exercises  whenever  the  pupil  can  draw 
thoughts  skillfully  and  successfully  from  the  abstract  statements  of 
a  text-book. 

There  remains  yet  one  subject  to  be  considered.  Shall  children 
never  begin  with  the  abstract  ?  Shall  they  never  commit  to  mem- 
ory forms  which  are  beyond  their  comprehension  ?  These  are  fair 
questions,  and  should  be  candidly  and  fairly  answered. 

We  will  not  say,  that  in  no  case  should  such  matter  be  commit- 
ted to  memory.  It  has  been  the  practice  for  ages.  Able  and  dis- 
tinguished educators  have  advocated  it.  The  custom  of  requiring 
simple  memoriter  recitations  prevails  in  many  of  our  schools.  Shall 
it  continue  ?  Or  shall  all  intelligent  and  earnest  educators  enter 
upon  an  important  reform  in  this  direction  ? 

The  most  strenuous  advocates  of  'this  kind  of  teaching  do  not 
claim  that  for  intellectual  purposes  abstract  statements  are  of  any 
material  value  till  explained  or  illustrated,  or  till  the  mind  of  the 
learner  has  grown  up  to  them.  They  readily  admit  that,  while 
borne  in  mind  by  mere  force  of  memory  as  words,  they  can  yield 
no  immediate  fruit.  But  they  claim — 

1.  That  such  work  furnishes  the  children  something  to  do  in  the 
way  of  private  or  solitary  study  between  the  hours  of  recitation,  and 
does  much  towards  establishing  early  habits  of  study. 

2.  That  the  very  act  of  committing  to  memory  is  a  good  disci- 
pline for  that  faculty. 

3.  That  the  terse  and  well-considered  statements  of  a  good  text- 
book are  better  than  any  that  the  learner  can  substitute,  and  are, 
therefore,  good  models  of  the  use  of  language. 

4.  That,  if  held  in  the  memory  sufficiently  long,  these  statements 
will  at  length  yield  up  their  meaning,  at  first  faintly,  later  along 
more  clearly,  and  finally  with  their  full  significance  and  breadth  of 
meaning. 

5.  That  they  are  ever  furnishing  the  child,  ready  at  hand,  sub- 
jects for  an  intellectual  struggle,  being  results  which  minds  more 
•mature  than  his  have  reached  by  processes  of  thought  to  which  he 
should  always  aspire. 


OBJECT  TEACHING.  45g 

6.  That  the  power  to  utter  forms  of  thought  at  present  not  con- 
•prehended  inspires  in  the  learner  a  most  salutary  habit  of  paying 
<lue  deference  to  authority ;  of  looking  with  veneration — even  rev- 
erence— upon  the  productions  of  the  gifted  minds  both  of  our  own 
times  and  of  the  distant  past,  and  that  there  can  be  no  better  cure 
for  flippancy  and  self-conceit. 

To  consider  these  points,  which  we  hope  have  been  fairly  stated, 
and  to  which  we  are  inclined  to  give  due  weight,  let  us  resume  the 
subject  of  conceptions  or  concepts,  partially  examined  in  a  previous 
part  of  this  report. 

When  all  the  parts,  attributes,  marks,  or  qualities,  etc.,  which 
make  up  an  individual  object,  are  brought  together  into  one  whole, 
we  have  a  concept  only  in  its  depth  or  intention.  If  we  give  it  a 
name — which  for  the  present  shall  apply  to  this  one  object  alone — 
the  name  calls  up  the  conception,  and  we  realize  it  by  its  form  and 
image.  Let  us  call  it  a  concrete  concept.  At  an  earlier  period  the 
faculty  of  comparison  is  called  into  exercise.  The  understanding 
begins  to  elaborate  the  material  which  the  perceptive  faculty  has 
received.  The  terrier  with  which  the  child  has  played  so  often  re- 
sembles others  which  he  meets,  in  so  many  particulars,  that  he  in- 
stinctively applies  the  term  terrier  to  each  and  all  which  bear  the 
characteristic  marks  of  this  species.  But  to  do  this  he  has  sacrificed 
so  many  individual  characteristics,  such  as  form,  size,  color,  etc.,  that 
the  concept  thus  extended  has  lost  its  power  of  presenting  to  the 
eye  of  the  mind  any  individual  of  the  species,  and  must  continue  so 
•until  to  some  one  of  the  class  the  mind  restores  all  the  marks,  quali- 
ties, or  characteristics  which  have  been  taken  away — that  is,  ab- 
stracted— from  it.  It  extends  to  many  individuals,  but  has  deprived 
each  of  many  characteristic  marks.  The  concept  or  conception, 
thus  considered,  may  be  called  abstract,  and  can  not  be  realized  by 
form  or  image  as  before. 

But  the  work  of  abstraction  does  not  stop  here.  Deprive  this 
concept  of  a  few  of  its  marks,  do  the  same  with  that  of  the  spaniel, 
the  hound,  the  mastiff,  the  pointer,  etc.,  and  the  remaining  marks 
unite  in  one  higher  concept,  embracing  each  species  directly  and 
each  individual  indirectly,  and  thus  we  have  the  one  concept  of 
concepts,  called  dog.  In  a  similar  manner  we  rise  to  the  higher 
concept  carnivora  ;  still  higher  to  mammalia  ;  and  so  on  to  animal ; 
till  at  length  we  end  in  thing  or  being.  And  here  we  have  an  ab- 
stract concept  of  the  highest  order.  Now  it  is  perfectly  obvious 
that,  at  every  stage  of  advancement  in  this  hierarchy  of  concepts, 
•what  is  gained  in  one  direction  is  lost  in  the  other.  At  every  stage 


460  OBJECT  TEACHING. 

the  concept  is  more  difficult  to  be  realized.  Almost  any  child 
would  shrink  from  the  attempt  to  ascend  the  scale.  And  yet  how 
often  children  must  use  such  terms  as  being,  science,  art,  etc.,  if  they 
learn  the  definitions  contained  in  books ! 

Now  in  the  judgment  of  mature  minds  it  is  the  peculiar  merit  of 
a  text-book  or  treatise,  that  it  is  comprehensive ;  that  is,  that  its 
terms  are  so  abstract  as  so  embrace  the  whole  subject.  And  to  a 
thoroughly  disciplined  mind,  the  test  of  an  author's  skill  is  his 
nice  adjustment  of  these  abstract  terms.  Hence  you  hear  the  com- 
mendation, "  I  admire  the  comprehensiveness  of  his  rules  and  defi- 
nitions." This  is  a  commendation  for  any  text-book.  And  that 
which  makes  it  so  good  for  the  scholar  is  what  makes  it  so  bad  for 
the  child.  He  commits  the  beautifully  comprehensive  terms  to  the 
memory,  but  nothing  to  the  understanding,  simply  because  he  has 
never  been  able  to  ascend  the  lofty  scale  of  abstractions  sufficiently 
high  to  reach  the  meaning. 

All  philosophy  unites  in  condemning  the  practice  of  descending 
with  children  so  deep  into  concrete  forms  as  to  draw  out  distinc- 
tions and  terms  which  belong  to  science.  Such  work  should  be 
postponed. 

What  philosophy  is  that  which  would  bid  a  child  pass  to  the 
other  extreme,  and  bear  in  his  memory  for  years  the  names  of  con- 
ceptions which  can  be  realized  only  by  ascending  through  a  contin- 
ued series  of  abstractions  ? 

The  true  philosophy  would  seem  to  be  to  begin  with  the  concrete 
forms  around  us,  and  while  we  should  be  careful  on  the  one  hand 
not  to  penetrate  too  deep  in  our  search  of  individual  attributes  and 
characteristics,  we  should  be  equally  careful,  on  the  other  hand,  not 
to  rise  too  high  into  the  regions  of  abstract  thought,  but  advance  in 
both  directions  as  the  growing  capacities  of  the  learner  will  admit. 

With  this  aspect  of  our  conceptions,  let  us  examine  the  several 
arguments  for  committing  to  memory  abstract  statements  as  yet  not 
understood. 

That  the  committing  to  memory  of  such  statements  does  furnish 
employment  for  the  children  all  will  admit.  That  the  employment 
is  a  good  one  is  not  so  clear.  Yet  it  is  better  than  none — always 
preferable  to  unmitigated  idleness.  Ragged  and  hungry  children 
had  better  be  employed  in  providing  food  and  clothing  for  their 
prospective  wants  at  the  period  of  maturity  rather  than  be  allowed 
to  roam  the  streets  without  occupation.  But  in  looking  upon  their 
present  pressing  needs,  you  could  but  exclaim  at  the  misfortune 
of  their  lot,  when  all  around  them  the  most  attracting  fields,  with 


OBJECT  TEACHING.  461 

rewards  for  present  use,  were  inviting  them  to  labor.  So  it  is  in 
school.  Children  may  be  fully  occupied  upon  concrete  forms  which 
are  fitted  for  present  use,  will  contribute  to  their  intellectual  growth, 
and  will  give  zest  and  enjoyment  at  the  same  time,  and  aid  them  in 
rising  to  the  simpler  abstractions. 

As  to  the  second  argument,  that  the  act  of  committing  to  memory 
even  words  is  an  exercise  of  the  memory.  We  admit  it,  but  can 
not  call  it  a  good  one.  How  much  better  the  exercise  would  be  if 
at  the  same  time  thoughts  were  understood ;  how  much  more  read- 
ily the  memory  would  retain  the  expressions  themselves ;  how  much 
more  philosophical  and  natural  the  associations ;  how  much  more 
healthful  the  habits  which  would  ensue ;  and  how  needless  the  prac- 
tice when  the  children  can  just  as  well  be  required  to  commit  what 
they  understand ! 

In  respect  to  the  cultivation  of  language  enough  has  already  been 
said.  No  more  unphilosophical  or  ineffectual  method  could  be 
adopted  than  to  force  upon  the  memory  even  the  choicest  expres- 
sions if  they  convey  no  thought. 

It  is  true  that  mere  expressions  may  be  retained  in  the  memory, — 
and  it  is  also  true  that  they  may,  after  a  time,  yield  their  appropri- 
ate meaning, — but  admitting  this,  how  much  better  it  would  be  for 
children  to  commit  to  memory  what  they  can  understand,  what  will 
administer  to  their  present  growth  !  Besides,  the  habits  of  retain- 
ing in  the  mind  undigested  expressions  has,  in  one  respect,  a  most 
pernicious  effect.  The  mind  becomes  hardened  into  a  state  of  intel- 
lectual indifference  as  to  the  meaning  of  words — a  kind  of  mental 
dyspepsia  which  it  is  extremely  difficult  to  eradicate.  Then,  again, 
instead  of  faint  glimmerings  of  the  true  meaning,  children  are  quite 
as  apt  to  attach  to  abstract  expressions  fanciful,  inappropriate,  or 
absurd  significations,  which  haunt  and  annoy  them  up  to  mature  life. 
In  all  this  we  refer  to  expressions  wholly  beyond  their  capacity. 

The  time  will  come  when  children  must  deal  with  abstract  thought 
presented  in  text-books ;  when  instead  of  passing  from  objects  to 
terms,  from  verities  to  statements,  the  order  must  be  reversed ;  they 
must  interpret  terms,  verify  statements;  in  other  words,  draw 
thoughts  from  books.  And  this  is  an  important  part  of  school 
training.  If  wisely  arranged,  their  studies  will  lie  within  their 
reach.  The  thoughts,  though  abstract,  will  not  be  found  so  high  in 
the  scale  of  conceptions  as  to  be  wholly  beyond  their  capacity, — 
though  higher,  it  may  be,  than  they  have  as  yet  ascended.  Shall 
they  commit  the  statements  of  such  thoughts  to  memory  ?  That  is, 
in  preparing  their  lessons  from  books,  if  some  passages  shall  not  be 


462  OBJECT  TEACHING. 

understood  at  the  lime,  shall  they,  notwithstanding,  be  learned  for 
discussion  at  the  time  of  recitation  ? 

In  many  cases  we  should  most  certainly  say  yes ;  not  because,  in- 
trinsically, it  is  always  the  best  thing  for  the  learner,  but  from  the 
necessities  of  the  case,  and  because  the  struggle  for  possible  thought,, 
with  the  assurance  that  ultimate  victory  is  near  at  hand,  is  always 
salutary.  And  here  the  skillful  teacher  will  hold  the  problem  before 
the  learner  in  such  a  way  that  the  relief  itself  shall  be  the  reward  of 
effort ;  and  this  leads  directly  to  the  answer  of  the  fifth  point.  The 
struggle  will  be  healthful  only  when  the  thought  is  within  the  pu- 
pil's reach.  Otherwise  it  will  lead  to  discouragement  or  utter 
prostration. 

We  come  now  to  consider  a  point  which  is  strongly  urged,  espe- 
cially  by  those  of  a  conservative  tendency, — namely,  that  the  masterly 
thoughts  of  gifted  minds,  even  though  not  understood,  have  the 
beneficial  effect  of  inspiring  reverence  for  standard  authority,  and  in. 
checking  shallowness  and  conceit.  Be  it  so.  These  are  qualities 
that  should  receive  the  teacher's  attention ;  the  one  to  be  cultivated,, 
the  other  suppressed.  Every  teacher  should  watch  with  jealous  care- 
all  moral  developments.  But  in  a  question  of  intellectual  culture,, 
let  us  not  suffer  any  incidental  issue  to  turn  our  thoughts  from  the 
main  question. 

Children  and  adults  will,  on  all  sides,  come  in  contact  with  both 
the  uncomprehended  and  incomprehensible.  Providence  has  placed 
us  in  the  midst  of  the  vast  and  the  sublimely  great.  We  can  not 
avoid  being  awe-struck  and  humbled.  If,  nevertheless,  the  young 
will  persist  in  their  conceits,  administer  whole  pages  of  Butler's. 
Analogy,  but  do  it,  just  as  a  physician  administers  colchicum,  for 
the  purpose  of  depletion, — not  to  promote  physical  growth.  In  the 
processes  of  teaching  the  young  to  comprehend  thought,  we  should 
never  sacrifice  time  and  strength  by  beginning  with  the  highly  ab- 
stract and  difficult.  The  principles  on  this  point  have  already  been 
laid  down. 

We  come  now  to  the  final  question  : — Does  the  plan  pursued  at 
Oswego  conform  to  these  general  principles  ? 

We  answer  unhesitatingly — in  the  main  it  does.  It  may  not  be 
right  in  all  its  philosophy,  or  in  all  its  practice.  Whether  the  prac- 
tice is  better  than  the  philosophy,  or  the  philosophy  than  the  prac- 
tice, we  will  not  pretend  to  say.  Neither  is  it  our  object  or  purpose 
to  appear  as  champions  of  the  system,  to  defend  it  against  attacks, 
or  to  cover  np  what  is  faulty.  We  simply  appear  to  report  it,  and 
our  opinions  upon  it,  so  far  as  the  examinations  of  one  week  will 
enable  us  to  do. 


OBJECT  TEACHING  46S 

O8WEGO  SYSTEM  OF  OBJECT  TEACHING. 

But  what  is  the  Oswego  system  ?  The  schools  of  the  city — a 
city  of  some  twenty-three  thousand  inhabitants — are  divided  into 
four  grades — Primary,  Junior,  Senior,  and  High — corresponding  to 
the  Primary,  Secondary  or  Intermediate,  Grammar,  and  High  schools 
of  other  cities.  Besides  these  grades,  there  is  an  unclassified  school 
continued  through  the  year,  to  meet  the  wants  of  pupils  who  are  not 
well  adapted  to  the  graded  schools ;  and  yet  another  kept  in  winter,, 
to  accommodate  those  who  can  attend  only  during  that  season. 
Each  grade  is  subdivided  into  classes  named  in  the  order  of  rank 
from  the  lowest,  C,  B,  A.  Something  like  the  object  system  was. 
introduced  in  1859.  But  in  1861  these  peculiar  features  were  more 
fully  developed.  Previous  to  the  last  date  the  schools  were  in  ses- 
sion six  hours  per  day.  Since  that  time  the  daily  sessions  have 
been  shortened  one  hour  in  all  the  schools. 

The  peculiar  system  called  the  "  object  system  "  was  introduced 
at  first  into  only  the  Primary  grade.  In  1861  it  had  gained  so 
much  favor  with  the  School  Board,  that  a  Training  School  was  es- 
tablished under  the  direction  of  Miss  Jones,  from  the  Home  and 
Colonial  Institution,  London.  At  present  the  system  has  reached 
the  Junior  schools,  and  now  prevails  throughout  the  two  lower 
grades. 

The  Training  School,  which  forms  a  prominent  feature  of  the  sys- 
tem, is  at  present  established  in  the  Fourth  Ward  school  building. 
Besides  the  Training  School,  this  building  contains  a  city  Primary 
with  its  classes  A,  B,  C, — a  Junior  A,  B,  C,  and  a  Senior  A,  B,  C. 
Each  Primary  and  each  Junior  school  throughout  the  city  is  pro- 
vided with  a  permanent  principal  and  permanent  assistant  for  each 
of  the  classes.  In  the  Fourth  Ward  schools,  however,  only  one 
tnt  is  permanently  appointed.  The  place  of  the  second  as- 
sistant is  supplied  from  the  Training  School.  The  exercises  in 
these  two  grades  are  the  same  throughout  the  city, — except  in  the 
building  of  the  Training  School,  where  additional  exercises,  here- 
after to  be  described,  are  introduced.  In  this  building,  then,  we 
shall  find  the  ordinary  lessons  in  "  Object  Teaching,"  as  well  as  the 
peculiar  lessons  of  the  Training  School.  Let  us  enter  any  Primary 
school  at  the  beginning  of  the  year,  with  the  C  class  at  the  age  of 
five,  fresh  from  home  life,  for  the  first  time  to  enter  upon  school 
duties.  They  come  with  their  slates  and  pencils — and  this  is  all. 
Their  first  exercise  is  not  to  face  the  alphabet  arranged  in  vertical 
or  horizontal  column,  and  echo  the  names  of  the  letters  after  the 


464  OBJECT  TEACHING. 

teacher  in  response  to  the  question, — "  What  is  that  ?" — a  question 
the  teacher  knows  they  can  not  answer,  and,  therefore,  ought  not 
to  ask.  But  some  familiar  object — one  of  the  boys  of  the  class,  it 
may  be — is  placed  before  them,  and  called  upon  to  raise  his  hand — • 
the  class  do  the  same.  This  is  beginning  with  the  known.  Then 
he  is  called  upon  to  raise  his  right  hand.  This  may  be  an  advance 
into  the  obscurely  known ;  the  class  do  the  same  if  they  can  make 
the  proper  distinction ;  if  not,  the  first  lesson  marks  clearly  the  dis- 
tinction between  the  right  hand  and  the  left.  Something  real  and 
tangible  is  done.  The  children  can  now  distinguish  between  the 
right  ear  and  the  left  ear,  the  right  eye  and  the  left  eye.  Here  is 
acquired  knowledge  applied. 

But  what  of  their  slates?  The  teacher  may  first  give  a  lesson — 
practical,  of  course — on  the  use  of  the  slate  and  pencil.  Standing 
at  the  blackboard,  she  utters  the  sound  represented  by  some  letter, 
as  t.  The  class  utters  it.  They  repeat  it  till  the  sound  becomes  a 
distinct  object  to  the  ear.  She  then  prints  upon  the  board  the  let- 
ter t.  This  becomes  an  object  to  the  eye.  She  points  to  it  and 
gives  the  sound — they  repeat  the  sound.  She  points  again — they 
repeat.  She  gives  the  sound — they  point.  Two  objects  are  associ- 
ated. Now  in  their  seats  the  letter  t  is  to  be  made  upon  their  slates 
till  the  next  lesson  is  given.  In  this  second  lesson  an  advance  is 
made  upon  the  parts  of  the  human  body,  or  another  sound, — as  the 
short  sound  of  a  is  given,  then  the  character  as  before.  Now  the 
two  sounds  are  put  together, — then  the  two  letters.  Two  objects  are 
combined,  and  we  have  the  word  at.  But  before  this  lesson  is  given 
the  children  go  through  with  a  series  of  physical  exercises.  Perhaps, 
next,  the  whole  class  is  sent  to  the  sides  of  the  room.  Here  is  a 
narrow  shelf  answering  both  as  a  table  and  a  ledge  to  the  black- 
board. Under  this  are  apartments  containing  beans.  The  children 
take  them  one  by  one  and  count.  They  arrange  them  in  sets  of 
two  or  three,  etc.  They  unite  one  and  one — that  is,  bean  to  bean 
— one  and  two,  etc.  They  take  away  one  from  two,  one  from  three, 
and  so  on.  They  now  return  to  their  seats  and  make  marks  upon 
their  slates  to  take  the  place  of  the  beans.  In  short,  this  Primary 
room  is  a  busy  workshop — not  one  idle  moment. 

One  year  .is  passed  in  this  manner.  The  children  have  learned 
many  useful  lessons ;  have  mastered  a  set  of  Reading  Cards ; — have 
learned  to  spell  many  words  involving  the  short  sounds  of  the  vow- 
els and  most  of  the  consonants.  They  have  lessons  on  form  and 
color;  on  place  and  size;  on  drawing,  or  moral  conduct:  and  these 
are  changed  once  in  two  weeks. 


OBJECT  TEACHING.  465 

They  are  now  promoted  to  the  B  class.  They  commence  reading 
from  the  primer.  They  can  write  upon  their  slates  and  form  tables. 
They  have  object  lessons  more  difficult  and  more  interesting.  They 
can  read  the  statement  of  the  facts  developed  as  they  are  drawn  off 
upon  the  board.  They  can  write  them  themselves.  They  now 
learn  to  make  their  own  record  of  facts  upon  their  slates.  Their 
written  work  is  examined  and  criticised.  They  read  their  own 
statements,  and  do  it  with  ease  and  naturalness,  because  the 
thoughts  are  their  own.  They  learn  to  represent  numbers  with 
figures.  They  make  out  numerical  tables  for  addition  and  subtrac- 
tion, not  by  copying,  but  by  actual  combinations  with  beans  or 
otherwise.  They  thus  realize  these  tables.  In  short,  a  mingling 
of  object  lessons  with  writing,  spelling,  reading,  singing,  physical 
•exercise,  adding,  subtracting,  multiplying,  dividing,  elementary 
geography,  and  natural  history,  occupies  their  attention  through 
the  first  three  years.  All  the  lessons  are  given  objectively.  The 
children  realize  what  they  learn  ;  and  this  is  not  the  mere  theory  of 
the  system — it  is,  in  the  main,  the  actual  working  of  the  plan, 
The  schools  are  not  all  equally  good.  The  teachers  are  not  all 
equally  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  the  system.  There  were  failures. 
There  were  misconceptions  of  the  objects  aimed  at,  and  misconcep- 
tions of  the  method  of  reaching  it.  There  were  given  lessons  which 
were  superior, — even  brilliant.  Others  were  fair, — perhaps  moderate. 

In  the  Junior  grade  similar  but  more  advanced  lessons  are  given, 
until  the  pupils  are  prepared  for  the  Senior  schools,  where  these  pe- 
culiar characteristics  cease.  As  to  the  time  occupied  by  these  pe- 
culiar lessons, — or  general  exercises, — it  should  be  said  that  two  ex- 
ercises per  day  are  given  of  from  fifteen  to  thirty  minutes  each  in  the 
Primary  schools,  and  one  only  in  the  Junior.  And  yet  be  it  re- 
membered that  all  the  exercises  in  the  ordinary  school  work  are 
intended  to  be  true  object  lessons. 

Let  us  now  pass  to  the  Training  School.  Here,  it  should  be 
borne  in  mind,  are  regular  Primary  and  Junior  schools  under  per- 
manent teachers,  who  act  the  part  both  of  model  teachers  and  crit- 
ics before  the  members  of  the  Normal  School — or  Training  class. 
The  members  of  this  class  become  alternately  pupils  and  teachers, 
known  under  the  name  of  pupil-teachers.  At  the  beginning  of  the 
term  they  are  assigned  to  act  as  assistants  one  half-day  and  as  pu- 
pils the  other,  alternating  with  each  other  during  the  term,  so  that 
each  may  go  through  every  exercise.  The  regular  teacher  gives  a 
lesson  to  the  class.  The  assistants  observe  and  mark  the  methods 
•as  models  for  imitation  both  as  respects  the  steps  in  the  lesson,  and 


466  OBJECT  TEACHING. 

the  management  of  the  class  under  instruction.  One  of  the  assist- 
ants— a  pupil-teacher — next  gives  a  lesson.  She  is  now  under  a 
double  criticism;  first,  from  her  equals — the  other  pupil-teachers 
present ;  and  second,  from  the  regular  teacher.  She  is  not  doing 
fictitious,  but  real  teaching.  She  has  not  first  to  imagine  that  a 
class  of  adults  is  a  class  of  children,  and  then  she  is  to  give  a  speci- 
men lesson.  Nor  has  she  a  class  of  specimen  children.  She  has  a 
class  of  children  sent  to  school  for  real  purposes,  by  parents  who 
entertain  other  views  than  to  have  their  sons  and  daughters  made 
mere  subjects  for  experimenting. 

There  is  work  under  the  feeling  of  responsibility,  with  all  the 
natural  desire  to  succeed — nay,  to  excel.  Under  these  circum- 
stances, the  merits  or  demerits  of  her  lesson  will  be  pretty  surely 
made  known  to  her. 

The  superiority  of  this  plan  over  any  other  for  Normal  training 
is  obvious.  Some  of  these  pupil-teachers  evinced  great  presence  of 
mind  and  no  little  skill. 

But  now  the  scene  changes ;  these  pupil-teachers  return  to  the 
room  of  the  Training  class,  and  their  places  are  supplied  by  the 
retiring  set.  In  this  room  the  theory  of  teaching  is  discussed,  and 
exemplified  by  practical  lessons  given  by  the  Normal  teachers  to 
small  classes  of  children  brought  in  from  the  Primary  or  Junioi 
grades.  These  lessons  are  to  be  drawn  off  by  the  class  and  exam- 
ined as  illustrations  of  the  theory.  Then,  again,  a  pupil  is  called 
upon  to  give  a  lesson  to  a  similar  class, —  while  both  the  Training 
class  and  teacher  act  as  critics.  The  points  of  excellence  and  of 
defect  are  freely  discussed,  and  practical  hints  as  to  the  method  of 
the  lesson,  its  effect  upon  the  class,  etc.,  etc.,  are  freely  given. 
Under  this  kind  of  training  a  most  efficient  corps  of  teachers  is 
prepared  to  fill  all  vacancies,  and  give  increased  vitality  to  the 
schools  throughout  the  city. 

The  system  has  been  modified  from  time  to  time  as  new  sugges- 
tions have  come  up,  or  as  theoretic  plans  have  been  tested.  Farther 
experience  will  undoubtedly  result  in  other  changes. 

The  lessons  in  the  English  language  had  some  points  of  great 
merit. 

The  habit  of  writing  exercises  by  all  the  pupils  every  hour  of  the- 
day  can  not  fail  to  secure  ease  of  expression  with  the  pen.  And 
with  the  incessant  care  that  is  practiced  at  the  outset  by  the  teach- 
ers to  secure  neatness  and  order  in  the  writing,  correctness  in  tho 
use  of  capitals  and  punctuation  marks,  accuracy  of  expression  and 
faultless  spelling,  is  laying  a  most  excellent  foundation  for  a  high 
order  of  scholarship. 


OBJECT  TEACHING.  467 

The  opportunity  for  cultivating  correct  habits  of  conversation, 
which  is  afforded  during  the  object  lessons,  does  more  than  any 
other  one  thing  to  promote  a  good  use  of  language  in  speaking. 
The  children  are  uttering  living  thought  and  not  text-book  language. 
Their  own  habits  of  of  using  words  come  out  conspicuously,  and  are 
made  subjects  of  cultivation. 

The  more  formal  lessons  in  language  were,  in  the  main,  admirably 
conducted.  Here  the  teacher  made  use  of  objects  present,  or  the 
conceptions  of  familiar  objects  absent,  and  accepted  for  the  time 
any  or  all  of  the  various  expressions  employed  by  the  pupils  to 
enumerate  their  ideas  of  the  same  action  or  event.  Then  came  the 
question  of  a  final  choice  among  them  all.  A  box  was  moved  along 
the  table,  and  the  children  gave — "  The  box  moves,  is  pushed,  is 
shoved,  slides,  etc."  A  very  large  majority  chose  the  expression 
"slides? 

Occasionally  the  sentences  and  forms  of  expression  had  a  bookish 
aspect,  and  lacked  spontaneousness ;  and  there  were  enough  of 
these,  if  captiously  seized  upon,  to  make  the  method  appear  ridicu- 
lous. So  again  expressions  and  terms  were  sometimes  evolved, 
which  would  not  be  out  of  place  in  a  scientific  treatise.  These 
were  accepted  of  course.  But  if  used  too  frequently,  they  would 
seem  like  the  coat  of  a  young  man  placed  upon  a  mere  boy.  These, 
however,  at  most  were  but  spots  on  the  face  of  the  sun.  The  whole 
plan  was  admirable  in  theory  and  in  practice. 

The  spelling  exercises  were  multiplied  and  varied.  The  chil- 
dren had  regular  spelling  lessons.  They  wrote  words  upon  the 
slate.  They  wrote  on  the  board.  They  spelled  orally  for  the 
teacher  when  she  wrote,  and  they  spelled  on  all  occasions. 

On  the  whole,  the  view  which  Mr.  Camp,  the  Superintendent  of 
Public  Schools  for  the  State  of  Connecticut,  a  member  of  this  Com- 
mittee, gives  of  his  observations  on  Object  Teaching,  were  fully  con- 
firmed here.  He  says : — "  Having  had  an  opportunity  to  observe 
the  methods  pursued  in  Object  Teaching  in  Boston,  Mass.,  Oswego,. 
N.  Y.,  Patterson,  N.  J.,  and  at  Toronto  and  Montreal,  Canada,  and 
in  connection  with  other  methods  in  some  other  places,  I  will,  at 
your  request,  give  the  results  as  they  appeared  to  me.  Whenever 
this  system  has  been  confined  to  elementary  instruction,  and  has 
been  employed  by  skillful,  thorough  teachers,  in  unfolding  and  dis- 
ciplining the  faculties,  in  fixing  the  attention,  and  awakening  thought, 
it  has  been  successful.  Pupils  trained  under  this  system  have 
evinced  more  of  quickness  and  accuracy  of  perception,  careful  ob- 
servation, and  a  correctness  of  judgment  which  results  from  accurate 


468  OBJECT  TEACHING. 

discrimination  and  proper  comparisons.  They  have  seemed  much 
better  acquainted  with  the  works  of  nature,  and  better  able  to  un- 
derstand allusions  to  nature,  art,  and  social  life,  as  found  in  books. 
But  when  *  Object  Lessons '  have  been  made  to  supplant  the  use  of 
books  in  higher  instruction,  or  when  scientific  knowledge  has  been 
the  principal  object  sought  in  these  lessons,  the  system  has  not  been 
successful,  so  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  observe  the  results." 

In  conclusion  it  should  be  said,  that  it  is  no  small  commendation 
of  the  system,  that  all  the  ground  formerly  gone  over  in  the  two 
lower  grades  is  accomplished  now  in  the  same  time,  and  that  in 
daily  sessions  of  five  hours  instead  of  six.  The  plan  renders  school 
life  to  the  little  children  far  less  irksome  than  before.  The  teachers 
generally,  who  have  adopted  and  practiced  it,  give  it  their  unquali- 
fied approval,  The  Board  of  Education  and  their  intelligent  and 
indefatigable  Superintendent  see  no  cause  to  return  to  the  old  meth- 
ods, but,  on  the  contrary,  are  more  and  more  pleased  with  its  prac- 
tical working.  That  the  citizens  of  a  town,  in  former  years  not 
specially  noted  for  literary  or  educational  progress,  should  from  year 
to  year  sustain  and  encourage  it,  nay,  take  an  honest  pride  in  in- 
.creasing  the  facilities  for  carrying  it  forward,  is  proof  positive  that 
it  has  intrinsic  merit.  And  finally,  that  the  State  of  New  York 
should  make  ample  provision  to  support  its  Training  School,  shows 
.that  the  thinking  men  of  the  State  see  in  the  system  something 
•more  than  mere  tinsel  and  outward  show. 


OBJECT  TEACHING. 

BY  E.  A.  SHELDON,  OSWEGO,  N.  Y. 

IN  opening  the  discussion  on  this  occasion,  on  what  is  sometimes 
technically  called  "  Object  Teaching,"  I  propose  first  very  briefly  to 
state  the  principles  upon  which  the  methods  thus  indicated  are 
based.  Secondly  to  consider  some  of  the  difficulties  that  lie  in  the 
way  of  the  progress  of  these  reformed  methods  of  teaching,  and  the 
best  way  of  removing  them ;  and  lastly  consider  the  true  aim  and 
limit  of  these  methods  as  applied  to  the  development  of  the  early 
faculties  of  childhood. 

We  assume  first  that  education  should  embrace  the  united,  har. 
monious  development  of  the  whole  being,  the  moral,  the  physical, 
and  the  intellectual ;  and  that  no  one  of  these  should  be  urged  for- 
ward to  the  neglect  or  at  the  expense  of  the  other.  We  likewise 
assume  that  there  is  a  natural  order  in  the  evolution  of  the  human 
faculties,  and  also  of  appliances  for  their  development,  a  knowledge 
of  which  is  essential  to  the  highest  success  in  education  ;  that  the 
perceptive  faculties  are  the  first  and  most  strongly  developed  and 
upon  them  are  based  all  future  acquirements ;  that  just  in  propor- 
tion as  they  are  quick  and  accurate  in  receiving  impressions,  will 
all  the  future  processes  of  education  and  outgrowing  attainments 
be  easy  and  rapid,  and  ever  prove  unfailing  sources  of  delight ;  and 
hence  they  should  be  the  first  to  receive  distinctive  and  special  cul- 
ture. To  this  we  may  add  that  childhood  has  certain  marked  and 
distinctive  characteristics  which  should  never  be  lost  sight  of  in  all 
our  dealings  with  children.  Among  the  more  prominent  of  these 
are  activity,  love  of  sympathy,  and  a  desire  for  constant  variety. 
In  the  natural  order  of  subjects  we  recognize  as  first,  mathematics, 
including  a  consideration  of  form,  size,  and  number ;  second,  physics, 
including  objects  in  nature,  their  sensible  qualities  and  properties, 
and  third,  language,  including  oral  and  written  expression,  reading 
and  spelling. 

We  have  thus  stated,  as  concisely  as  possible,  the  very  first  steps 
in  this  natural  order,  upon  which  must  be  based  all  successful  edu- 
cational efforts ;  for  the  limited  time  allotted  to  this  paper  reminds 


470  OBJECT  TEACHING. 

us  of  the  necessity  of  confining  ourselves  closely  to  the  point  under 
discussion. 

It  would  be  not  a  little  interesting  to  trace  the  natural  relation 
of  these  two  orders  throughout  a  complete  educational  course,  nor 
would  it  be  entirely  foreign  to  our  subject;  but  this  would  lead  us 
into  too  broad  a  field  of  investigation,  and  be  liable  to  divert  the 
discussion  from  the  point  particularly  before  us.  We  will  not  stop 
now  to  consider  in  detail  the  method  best  adapted  to  the  develop- 
ment of  the  infant  faculties,  but  will  advert  to  them  after  consider- 
ing briefly  a  few  of  the  more  prominent  obstacles  that  lie  in  the 
way  of  the  most  successful  progress  of  these  improved  methods  of 
teaching.  And  in  this  connection  we  remark  first,  that  the  very 
title  by  which  these  methods  are  popularly  designated  is  open  to 
serious  objection.  It  is  true  that  the  term  "Object  Teaching"  is, 
to  a  certain  extent,  suggestive  of  the  real  character  of  these  early 
processes,  in  that  we  are  continually  dealing  with  tangible  objects 
and  illustrations,  but  it  is  liable  to  be  taken  in  a  too  limited  sense. 
Instead  of  embracing  a  large  number  of  subjects,  and  covering  the 
entire  field  of  the  early  culture  of  the  faculties,  many  have  taken  it 
to  mean  nothing  more  than  miscellaneous  lessons  on  objects.  These 
lessons  often  clumsily  given  by  those  who  have  no  knowledge  of 
correct  principles,  and  who  therefore  continually  violate  them,  have 
led  many  to  condemn  the  whole  system,  and  thus  in  certain  quarters 
to  bring  it  into  disrepute.  , 

Again,  book  speculators  are  continually  making  use  of  the  term 
as  a  catch  word,  for  the  purpose  of  disposing  of  their  wares ;  thus 
imposing  upo.n  the  uninitiated,  and  bringing  into  discredit  methods 
of  which  these  books  are  the  farthest  possible  from  being  the  repre- 
sentatives. In  this  way  old  books  have  received  new  title  pages, 
and  new  books  with  old  methods  have  been  christened  with  the 
catch  word,  "  Object  Lessons,"  or  "  On  the  Object  Plan ; "  and  what 
is  lamentable,  multitudes  know  not  the  difference  between  the  name 
and  the  thing.  In  this  way  much  mischief  has  already  been  done, 
and  much  more  is  yet  to  be  experienced. 

Realizing  these  objections,  some  have  proposed  to  change  the 
name,  substituting  a  term  more  comprehensive  and  less  liable  to 
objection.  But  this  change  of  names  will  only  subject  publishers 
to  an  additional  expense  of  new  title  pages,  and  will  not  wholly  ob- 
viate the  evils  referred  to.  Our  plan  would  be  to  drop  all  specific 
names,  and  speak  of  all  improved,  natural  or  philosophical  methods 
of  teaching  as  such,  and  let  the  great  effort  be  to  infuse  right  prin 
ciples  into  the  minds  of  teachers,  to  lead  them  to  study  the  mental 


OBJECT  TEACHING.  471 

moral  and  physical  constitution  of  children,  and  the  best  method 
of  bringing  this  treble  nature  out  in  harmonious  development.  In 
this  lies  our  only  hope  of  any  substantial  improvement  in  educa- 
tional processes. 

This  leads  me  to  consider  secondly,  as  a  serious  obstacle  lying  in 
the  way  of  the  proposed  reformation,  the  ignorance  of  teachers 
upon  the  points  just  referred  to,  and  their  disposition  to  study 
methods  rather  than  principles.  Now,  any  proper  system  of  educa- 
tion must  be  based  upon  philosophical  principles,  upon  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  natural  order  of  development  of  the  being  to  be  edu- 
cated, in  his  mental,  moral  and  physical  constitution,  and  the 
corresponding  appliances  for  promoting  such  growth ;  and  no  one 
can  hope  for  success  who  does  not  clearly  comprehend  these  prin- 
ciples. The  first  effort  then  on  the  part  of  teachers  should  be  to 
study  principles,  and  then  the  mode  of  applying  them.  The  reverse 
of  this  is  the  course  now  being  pursued  in  this  country.  Teachers 
are  endeavoring  to  imitate  models  from  books,  rather  than  making 
themselves  first  familiar  with  the  principles  upon  which  these 
methods  are  based,  and  then  using  these  models  as  aids  in  applying 
them.  The  only  remedy  for  this  evil,  as  it  seems  to  us,  is  the  es- 
tablishment of  Training  Schools  for  the  professional  education  of 
teachers.  Not  schools  in  which  the  branches  are  taught,  but  where 
the  whole  aim  and  effort  shall  be  to  impart  a  practical  knowledge 
of  the  science  of  education  and  the  art  of  applying  it.  In  these 
schools  should  be  exhibited  the  highest  excellence  in  the  art  of 
teaching.  There  should  also  be  schools  of  practice  where  the  stu- 
dents shall  have  abundant  opportunity  for  applying  the  instruction 
they  receive,  and  the  methods  they  observe. 

Who  would  think  of  employing  a  man  who  never  had  any  prac- 
tice in  carpentry  to  build  the  house  he  designed  as  a  permanent 
home  for  himself  and  his  children,  although  he  might  be  perfectly 
familiar  with  all  the  books  ever  written  on  this  subject  ?  We  re- 
quire that  our  mechanics  have  not  only  the  rules  of  their  trades, 
but  the  practice,  also,  before  we  presume  to  employ  them,  and  this 
too  even  in  the  more  unimportant  arts.  They  must  serve  an  ap- 
prenticeship— a  term  that  implies  years  of  careful  observation,  study 
<and  practice. 

They  must  not  only  become  familiar  with  all  the  tools  used  in 
their  trade,  and  the  exact  use  to  be  made  of  each,  but  they  must 
also  become  skilled  in  using  them.  And  not  only  must  the  appren- 
tice know  his  tools,  and  know  how  to  use  them,  before  he  is  en- 
trusted with  any  important  work  away  from  the  eye  of  his  master. 


472  OBJECT  TEACHING. 

but  must  also  have  a  thorough  and  exact  knowledge  of  the  charac- 
ter and  composition  of  the  materials  used  in  his  art ;  their  strength,, 
durability,  and  solidity,  that  he  may  know  how  always  to  adapt 
them  to  the  exact  place  they  are  to  occupy.  Without  this  knowl- 
edge the  sculptor  with  a  wrong  tool,  or  the  wrong  use  of  the  right 
one,  a  little  too  heavy  a  blow  of  the  mallet,  or  the  artist  with  a 
wrong  pigment,  or  a  wrong  stroke  of  the  pencil,  may  ruin  his  sub- 
ject. The  mechanic  by  the  omission  of  a  single  brace,  or  the  use 
of  a  wrong  timber,  or  one  composed  of  weak,  perishable  material, 
or  by  the  putting  together  of  materials  composed  of  different  pow- 
ers of  contraction  and  expansion,  may  ruin  his  edifice  and  endanger 
many  lives,  or  much  valuable  property.  In  view  of  these  facts  we 
are  all  agreed  as  to  the  importance  of  a  thorough  apprenticeship  in 
all  the  mechanic  arts  and  trades.  In  the  professions  too,  in  law, 
medicine,  surgery,  a  special  professional  education  is  deemed  indis- 
pensable. What  intelligent  person  would  employ  a  quack  to  tarn* 
per  with  his  own  life  or  the  lives  and  health  of  his  family,  or 
entrust  a  case  involving  large  interests  in  the  hands  of  an  unread 
and  unskilled  lawyer?  Who  would  entrust  the  amputation  of  a 
limb  to  the  hands  of  one  not  conversant  with  the  anatomy  of  the 
human  frame,  or  unskilled  in  the  use  of  the  knife  ?  If  then  so 
much  importance  is  attached  to  the  careful  preparation  of  the  vari- 
ous artizans  and  men  of  other  professions,  for  their  work,  (and  no 
one  can  say  that  its  importance  is  over-estimated,)  what  shall  be 
said  of  the  wickedness  and  folly  of  employing  both  ignorant  and 
unskilled  hands  to  form  and  fashion  this  noblest  of  all  God's  crea- 
tions— the  immortal  mind !  Is  it  that  the  mind  is  less  intricate,  or 
of  less  importance  than  the  body,  that  we  have  been  in  the  habit 
of  entrusting  its  cultivation  to  the  uneducated  and  untrained  ?  This 
certainly  can  not  be  the  reason.  The  one  is  like  the  grass  that 
springeth  up  in  the  morning,  and  in  the  evening  is  cut  down,  while 
the  other  is  immortal  and  is  freighted  with  interests  of  the  most 
momentous  character — interests  linked  with  the  destinies  of  man- 
kind for  time  and  for  eternity.  The  human  mind  is  composed  of 
elements  the  most  subtle  and  complicated,  yet  capable  of  being 
analyzed,  and  each  assigned  its  appropriate  place  and  function,  as 
also  the  order  and  method  of  its  evolution.  These  faculties  do  not, 
like  the  mineral,  grow  by  accretion,  but  by  their  natural  use ;  and 
ill-timed,  or  under  exercise,  or  a  neglect  of  the  proper  use  at  the 
proper  time,  are  alike  prejudicial ;  and  no  one  has  any  right  to  un- 
dertake the  work  of  developing  these  faculties  until  he  knows  some- 
thing of  their  real  character,  their  functions,  the  order  in  which 


OBJECT  TEACHING.  473. 

they  manifest  themselves,  and  the  appliances  best  calculated  to 
develop  them  and  give  them  strength. 

No  mistakes  can  be  made  here  that  are  not  serious  in  their  char- 
acter. As  is  a  too  heavy  blow  from  the  mallet,  or  a  wrong  use  of 
the  pencil,  or  the  use  of  the  wrong  material  to  the  statue,  the  paint- 
ing or  the  edifice,  so  a  mistake  made  here,  an  undue  strain  of  a 
faculty  yet  weak,  and  but  faintly  developed,  or  the  neglect  of  those 
still  in  full  and  active  vigor,  if  not  fatal  in  its  consequences,  is  due 
only  to  the  recuperative  power  of  the  mind  to  overcome  injuries 
inflicted. 

A  common  error  committed  in  Object  Teaching  is  in  converting 
exercises  that  should  be  strictly  for  development,  into  instruction 
in  abstract  science.  Now  the  aim  of  all  these  early  lessons  should 
be  to  quicken  the  perceptions,  and  give  them  accuracy,  awaken 
thought  and  cultivate  language.  To  this  end  the  senses  must  be 
exercised  on  the  sensible  qualities  and  properties  of  objects;  and 
when  the  consideration  of  these  objects  goes  beyond  the  reach  of 
the  senses,  then  of  course,  the  exercise  ceases  to  be  a  development 
exercise,  and  becomes  either  an  exercise  of  the  memory  or  of  some 
of  the  higher  faculties.  All  these  early  lessons  then  should  be  con- 
fined to  objects,  their  parts,  qualities  and  properties  that  come 
clearly  within  the  reach  of  the  senses  of  the  children,  and  no  gen- 
eralizations should  include  any  thing  more  than  such  objects  and 
their  qualities.  Definitions  should  in  no  case  go  beyond  the  mere 
description  of  the  actual  perceptions  of  the  children.  These  points 
we  regard  of  vital  importance,  and  that  we  may  be  clearly  under- 
stood, we  will  be  a  little  more  definite,  and  indicate  just  where  we 
would  begin,  and  how  far  we  would  go  in  carrying  out  the  leading  ex- 
ercises employed.  In  the  theory  we  have  presented,  these  should 
consist  of  lessons  on  Form,  Size  and  Number  as  belonging  to  math- 
ematics ;  of  lessons  on  Objects,  Animals,  Plants,  Color,  and  Place  or 
Geography,  as  belonging  to  Natural  History,  and  lessons  on  lan- 
guage, including  oral  and  written  expression,  reading  and  spelling. 

And  here  I  trust  I  shall  be  pardoned  for  presenting  my  views  on 
these  points  in  nearly  the  words  of  a  report  on  this  subject  present- 
ed last  week  at  the  Annual  meeting  of  the  New  York  State  Teach- 
ers' Association.  In  lessons  in  number  the  children  should  be  held 
long  and  closely  to  the  simple  combination  of  objects,  and  hence 
must  be  confined  to  numbers  that  come  fairly  within  the  range  of 
the  perceptions. 

The  lessons  on  Form  should  be  confined  to  the  observation  and 
description  of  some  of  the  more  simple  and  common  forms  in  na- 


474  OBJECT  TEACHING. 

tu:v.  Here  we  must  guard  against  abstractions;  the  mere  memo- 
rizing of  definitions  that  go  beyond  the  observations  of  the  children. 
As  we  have  already  said,  definitions  should  be  nothing  more  than 
mere  descriptions,  a  remark  that  applies  equally  to  all  kindred  sub- 
jects of  instruction.  The  lessons  on  Size  consist  of  nothing  more 
than  the  actual  measurement  of  various  objects  and  distances,  and 
the  simple  exercise  of  the  judgment  in  the  application  of  the  knowl- 
•edge  thus  gained. 

In  lessons  in  Color,  the  children  may  be  led  to  observe,  discrimi- 
nate and  name  the  leading  colors  and  their  tints  and  shades,  and 
apply  them  to  the  description  of  objects  in  nature.  This  will  add 
largely  to  their  stock  of  language,  and  greatly  aid  them  in  their 
future  lessons.  It  is  worthy  of  remark  just  here,  that  the  deficiency 
in  terms  to  express  in  our  language  distinctions  in  color  is  one  that 
is  deeply  felt,  and  any  effort  at  improvement  in  this  direction  should 
receive  our  hearty  encouragement.  Beyond  this  the  children  may 
be  indulged  in  mixing  colors,  to  observe  how  the  various  colors  are 
produced  from  the  primaries,  and  finally  their  intuitive  perceptions 
of  the  harmony  of  colors  may  be  called  out.  Not  that  any  attempt 
should  be  made  to  teach  the  scientific  law  underlying  the  harmony 
of  colors,  but  they  simply  observe  that  "  certain  colors  look  well 
together." 

In  lessons  on  Place  or  Elementary  Geography,  the  attention  of 
the  child  is  confined  to  a  consideration  of  that  part  of  the  earth  which 
he  sees  in  his  daily  walks,  its  physical  and  industrial  features,  the 
various  grouping  and  relation  of  objects  to  each  other  and  himself, 
as  a  preparation  for  the  consideration  of  what  lies  beyond  his  own 
immediate  neighborhood.  In  lessons  on  animals  and  plants  we  be- 
gin by  calling  attention  to  the  parts,  position,  and  finally,  uses  of 
parts.  At  the  next  step,  in  lessons  on  animals,  the  children  are  led 
to  consider  something- of  characteristics  and  habits,  and  finally  of 
adaptation  of  parts  to  habits.  The  children  are  continually  exer- 
cised in  close  and  accurate  observation,  by  means  of  specimens  or 
pictures,  and  to  a  limited  extent  from  given  or  tangible  facts  and 
phenomena,  to  draw  conclusions,  thus  calling  forth  the,  as  yet, 
feeble  powers  of  reason.  In  some  of  these  later  lessons  some  little 
knowledge  of  the  natural  history  of  the  animals  considered,  is  also 
imparted.  All  these  lessons  are  given  on  the  more  familiar  quadru- 
peds and  birds,  either  those  inhabiting  the  immediate  neighhorhood) 
or  of  which  they  have  been  made  acquainted  by  information.  Some 
attention  has  also  been  given  by  the  teacher  to  the  order  in  which 
these  lessons  have  been  oresented,  grouping  together,  or  rather  giv- 


OBJECT  TEACHING.  475 

IIILJ  in  succession,  lessons  belonging  to  the  same  class  or  order. 
Thus  far,  however,  the  children  have  no  realizing  sense  of  any  such 
•design.  After  having  gone  over  in  this  way  with  a  few  of  the  lead- 
ing types  of  each  order  of  mammals,  they  are  led  to  associate 
in  natural  groups  or  orders  the  animals  that  have  constituted 
the  subjects  of  these  lessons,  aided  by  the  knowledge  they  have  ac- 
quired of  their  characteristic  parts  and  habits.  These  systematic 
lessons,  however,  are  confined  to  mammals  and  birds,  as  being  more 
familiar  to  the  children.  For  variety  an  occasional  lesson  may  be 
given  on  a  fish,  an  insect,  a  reptile,  or  a  shell,  those  somewhat  famil- 
iar to  the  children,  but  a  large  proportion  of  the  animals  belonging 
to  these  and  the  lower  subdivisions  of  the  animal  kingdom  are  far- 
ther removed  from  the  child's  immediate  sphere  of  observation,  and 
therefore  the  basis  of  the  classification  is  less  apparent. 

In  "  Lessons  on  Objects "  proper,  as  distinct  from  "  Lessons  on 
Animals  and  Plants,"  the  first  lessons  should  be  on  objects  of  the 
most  familiar  character,  and  for  a  long  time  their  attention  should 
only  be  called  to  the  simple  parts  and  their  position.  This  involves 
no  use  of  difficult  terms,  but  at  the  same  time  cultivates  observa- 
tion and  the  power  of  accurate  expression.  At  the  next  step  some 
of  the  more  simple  and  common  qualities  are  added.  At  a  further 
step  more  occult  qualities,  requiring  more  close  and  careful  observa- 
tion, and  such  as  are  brought  out  by  experiment,  may  be  intro- 
duced ;  also,  to  a  limited  extent,  the  adaptation  of  qualities,  mate- 
rial or  structure,  to  use,  may  be  considered.  At  a  still  more  advanced 
stage,  some  information  in  regard  to  the  objects  considered  may  be 
brought  in,  as  also  a  simple  classification  of  the  objects  and  qualities 
considered.  In  connection  with  all  these  lessons,  the  cultivation  of 
language  should  be  made  one  of  the  leading  points ;  commencing 
with  the  simplest  oral  expressions,  leading  on  to  written  reproduc- 
tions, and  finally  to  consecutive  narrative. 

This  leads  us  directly  to  a  consideration  of  language,  the  subject 
next  in  order.  It  was  a  favorite  maxim  of  Pestalozzi,  that "  The 
first  object  in  education  must  be  to  lead  a  child  to  observe  with 
accuracy  ;  the  second,  to  express  with  correctness  the  result  of  his 
observations."  Again,  "ideas  first,  and  language  afterward." 
That  there  is  a  natural  connection  between  thought  and  speech, 
observation  and  expression,  there  can  be  no  reasonable  doubt.  Who 
has  not  observed  that  children  always  seek  a  name  for  every  new 
object  of  discovery,  and  are  never  satisfied  until  they  receive  it? 
It  is,  in  fact,  out  of  this  necessity  of  our  nature,  that  language  has 
rgrown  up,  expanded  and  enlarged,  to  keep  pace  with  the  growth  of 


476  OBJECT  TEACHING. 

ideas.  Bacon  has  well  said,  "  Men  believe  their  reason  to  be  lord" 
over  their  words ;  but  it  often  happens  too,  that  words  exercise  a 
reciprocal  and  reactionary  power  over  our  intellect.  Words,  as  a 
Tartar's  bow,  shoot  back  upon  the  understanding  of  the  wisest,  and 
mightily  entangle  and  pervert  the  judgment." 

Again,  of  what  practical  advantage  would  be  the  careful  cultiva- 
tion of  observation,  without  a  corresponding  power  of  expression  ? 
Ideas  unuttered  are  valueless  to  all  but  their  possessor,  but  well  ex- 
pressed, they  are  a  power  to  move  the  world.  Like  the  ripple- 
started  on  the  surface  of  the  placid  lake,  their  influence  is  felt  to  the- 
remotest  shores  of  time.  Now  as  observation  is  cultivated  by  care- 
ful and  constant  use,  so  is  language  by  the  frequent  expression  of 
ideas.  But  how  is  the  child  to  acquire  this  power  of  language,  or 
what  is  the  process  and  order  of  this  acquisition  ?  This  is  an  inter- 
esting question,  and  deserves  an  intelligent  answer.  Here,  as  in 
everything  else,  we  must  go  back  to  nature,  if  we  would  make  no- 
mistakes.  Observe  then  the  child  in  his  first  utterances.  His  first 
efforts  at  speech  are  to  articulate  the  names  of  those  persons,  objects- 
and  actions,  bearing  the  most  immediate  relation  to  his  desires  and 
necessities ;  the  names  of  pa  and  ma,  the  articles  of  food  and  drink, 
the  different  members  of  the  household,  and  familiar  objects  about 
him.  Next  in  order  come  action-words. 

Neither  name  nor  action-words  are  as  yet  qualified,  but  these 
quality  words  follow  slowly  along. 

The  third  step  is  reached  before  the  time  of  school  life  begins. 
However,  when  the  transfer  is  made  from  the  nursery  to  the  school- 
room, this  vocabulary  must  be  enlarged  to  keep  pace  with  the 
growth  of  ideas.  Observing  then  the  order  already  indicated,  we- 
begin  with  the  names  of  objects,  the  wholes  and  their  parts.  Next 
come  the  names  of  the  properties  and  qualities  of  objects,  proceed- 
ing, of  course,  from  the  most  simple  to  the  more  difficult.  But  is. 
it  asked  to  what  extent  are  these  terms  to  be  given  ?  We  answer 
most  unhesitatingly,  just  so  far  as  the  child  feels  the  necessity  for 
their  use,  and  has  the  power  to  apply  them.  But  it  is  objected  that 
"  The  use  of  words  can  not  be  long  kept  up  or  remembered  by  the 
children,  that  are  above  the  current  language  of  the  circle  in  which 
they  move." 

We  can  say  with  that  assurance  that  springs  from  careful  obser- 
vation and  experience,  that  they  are  governed  quite  as  much  in  the 
application  of  these  terms,  and  consequently  in  their  familiarity 
with  them,  by  the  necessity  they  experience  for  their  use  in  the  de 
scription  of  objects  about  them,  and  in  the  expression  of  their  per 


OBJECT  TEACHING.  477 

•ceptions,  as  by  the  language  of  the  home  circle,  or  immediate  asso- 
ciates. To  this  may  be  added  the  fact  that  for  five  hours  in  the 
day,  and  five  days  in  the  week,  and  this  for  several  successive  years, 
they  live  in  the  atmosphere  of  the  school-room,  where  these  terms 
.are  "  current  language,"  and  the  children  from  the  humblest  homes 
readily  incorporate  them  into  their  own  dialect.  Were  not  these 
facts,  there  would  be  poor  encouragement  for  the  teacher  to  labor 
to  improve  the  diction,  manners  or  morals  of  the  poorer  classes. 

The  success  of  every  good  school  located  in  such  unfortunate 
neighborhood,  in  elevating  the  children  in  all  these  points,  is  suffi- 
cient to  substantiate  this  position.  On  what  other  principle  can  we 
account  for  the  elevation  of  successive  generations  and  races  of  men 
above  their  immediate  ancestors  ?  And  how  else  can  we  account 
for  the  growth  of  language  ?  We  must  depend  upon  the  school  to 
exert  a  refining,  civilizing  influence,  and  that  too  above  and  beyond 
the  immediate  "  circle  in  which  they  move."  Now  in  the  language 
of  the  masses  of  the  people  there  is  a  great  dearth  of  terms  descrip- 
tive of  the  properties  and  qualities  of  objects.  How  and  where  is  this 
defect  to  be  remedied  ?  We  answer  emphatically,  by  the  cultivation 
of  language  in  the  schools.  We  have  already  stated  that  language 
as  the  expression  of  ideas,  bears  an  important  relation  to  their  de- 
velopment and  growth,  and  therefore  that  the  two  should  be  carried 
on  contemporaneously.  We  should,  therefore,  as  we  proceed  with 
the  exercises  in  developing  ideas,  give  the  terms  expressive  of  those 
ideas,  always  using,  however,  those  terms  which  are  most  simple, 
and  at  the  same  time  expressive  of  the  perceptions  to  be  indicated. 
In  all  these  exercises  reference  should  be  had  to  the  mental  status 
of  the  children ;  never  giving  any  more  than  can  be  readily  com- 
prehended and  appropriated.  In  these  and  all  other  school  exer- 
cises, the  answers  of  the  children  should  be  incorporated  into  full 
and  complete  expressions.  As  they  advance  they  will  take  pleasure 
in  reproducing  their  object  lessons  on  their  slates.  This  should 
always  be  encouraged,  and  should  become  a  daily  and  regular  exer- 
cise. Where  this  course  is  pursued  the  children  will  early  acquire 
the  power  of  easy  and  elegant  diction,  and  readiness  in  composition. 

The  subject  of  reading  is  one  surrounded  with  many  difficulties. 
These,  it  is  the  business  of  the  teacher  to  so  divide  and  classify  as 
to  present  but  one  difficulty  at  a  time,  and  make  the  successive 
steps  easy  and  pleasurable  to  the  child.  The  difficulties  that  meet 
the  young  learner  at  the  very  threshold,  are  the  number  of  differ- 
ent sounds  represented  by  the  same  character,  the  number  of  differ- 
ent characters  representing  the  same  sound,  the  representation  of  the 


478  OBJECT  TEACHING. 

same  sound  sometimes  by  one  character  and  sometimes  by  another,, 
and  sometimes  by  a  combination  of  characters,  and  the  frequent 
use  of  silent  letters.  To  obviate  these  difficulties  he  should  not  for 
a  long  time  be  confused  with  more  than  a  single  form  to  a  single- 
sound.  With  twenty-three  characters  and  the  same  number  of 
sounds  a  large  amount  of  reading  matter,  consisting  of  easy  simple 
words,  may  be  given.  It  is  better  to  commence  with  the  small  forms- 
of  the  letters,  as  they  are  better  adapted  for  general  use.  When, 
the  children  become  familiar  with  these,  the  capitals  may  be  intro- 
duced. Gradually  new  sounds  may  be  brought  in,  and  with  them 
new  words.  A  few  words  may  be  learned  as  words,  to  enable  us  to- 
fill  up  the  reading  matter.  In  connection  with  the  Object  Lessons,, 
also,  new  words  are  being  continually  learned.  By  this  process,  in 
which  the  children  are  able  to  help  themselves  at  every  step  of  their 
progress,  they  ever  find  fresh  delight.  By  a  simple  plan  of  classifi 
cation,  in  which  words  of  like  anomalies  are  brought  together,  and 
which  the  children  at  first  dictate  themselves,  the  work  of  spelling 
is  made  one  of  the  most  pleasing,  and  animated  exercises  in  the  school- 
room. These  words  are  both  spelled  orally  and  written  upon  the- 
slate.  The  plan  we  have  suggested,  of  which  we  have  been  able- 
only  to  give  the  merest  outline,  we  have  found  a  very  rapid  and 
thorough  one  in  teaching  children  to  read  and  spell,  and  in  its  de- 
tails strictly  Pestalozzian. 

We  have  thus  briefly  alluded  to  a  few  of  the  leading  exercises,. 
and  the  extent  to  which  they  should  be  employed  in  the  develop- 
ment of  the  early  faculties  of  childhood,  that  our  position  may  be 
definitely  understood,  and  for  the  reason  that  we  believe  them  liable  to 
much  abuse. 


OBJECT  SYSTEM  OF  INSTRUCTION 

AS  PURSUED  IN  THE   SCHOOLS   OP  OSWEGO. 

BY   H.   B.    WILBUR,    M     D. 

Superintendent  of  the  State  Asylum  for  Idiots,  Syracuse,  N.  Y 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE. 

IN  consenting  to  the  publication  of  the  following  paper,  read  before  the  Na- 
tional Association  of  Teachers,  at  its  last  meeting,  I  am  constrained,  in  justice 
to  myself,  to  prefix  a  brief  statement  of  the  circumstances  under  which  it  was 
prepared. 

Some  two  years  since,  I  delivered  an  address  before  the  New  York  State 
Teachers'  Association.  On  that  occasion  I  gave  some  account  of  my  own  pe- 
culiar work,  the  instruction  of  idiots.  An4  as  it  seemed  to  me  that  my  experi- 
ence had  some  practical  relations  to  the  audience  before  me  and  to  the  topics 
just  then  somewhat  prominent  in  the  minds  of  American  educators,  I  ventured 
to  make  the  proper  application.  The  "object  system  of  instruction,"  so-called, 
was  referred  to  at  some  length,  and  I  indulged  in  some  passing  criticisms  upon 
the  peculiar  methods  of  instruction  adopted  by  the  Home  and  Colonial  Society 
of  England,  which  some  persons  were  laboring  to  introduce  into  this  country. 

That  I  was  not  a  conservative  in  an  obnoxious  sense  in  my  educational  views, 
an  outline  of  what  was  then  said  upon  these  two  points  will  sufficiently  show. 

I  attempted  to  set  forth  the  doctrine,  by  implication  rather  than  by  any  very 
distinct  enunciation,  that  there  were  two  kinds  of  knowledge,  the  one  which 
may  be  styled  natural  and  the  other  conventional.  I  remarked  that  the  educa- 
tion related  to  the  former  began  where  instinct  ceases,  and  consisted  of  a  judi- 
cious ministering  of  the  proper  aliment  to  the  intuitive  powers.  And  I  endeav- 
ored to  point  out  the  true  function  of  the  teacher,  in  respect  to  this  natural 
education. 

I  then  added  that,  as  in  point  of  time,  so  in  harmony  with  the  natural  order 
of  development  of  the  human  faculties,  was  it  fit  and  proper  that  the  acquisition 
of  natural  should  precede  that  of  conventional  knowledge,  and  that  the  former 
<vas  the  best  foundation  for  the  superstructure  of  the  latter.  The  summary 
statement  of  my  argument  upon  the  subject  was,  "  that  we  should  educate  the 
senses  and  through  the  senses,  the  intelligence  and  will,  and  then  apply  and 
subordinate  the  engendered  habits  of  accurate  observation  and  the  cultivated 
intellectual  activity  and  power  to  a  proper  method  of  acquiring  the  elementary 
studies  and  their  outgrowing  attainments." 

It  seemed  to  me  then  that,  if  these  views  were  correct,  they  had  a  twofold 
application.  In  the  first  place,  that  our  system  of  primary  school  instruction, 
confining  itself,  as  it  had  hitherto  done,  mainly  to  elementary  studies  of  a  cor 
ventional  character,  should  be  modified  by  the  introduction  of  a  preliminai,) 
class  of  exercises,  designed  especially  to  cultivate  the  faculties  of  observation. 
That  the  elementary  branches  should  be  taught  in  such  a  manner  as  not  to  blunt 
the  perceptive  faculties.  Of  course,  the  natural  outgrowth  of  these  two  provis 
ions  would  be,  that  the  apparent  acquirements  of  the  school-room  would  repro 
sent  the  actual  mental  power  and  knowledge  of  the  pupils. 

In  the  second  place,  sympathizing,  as  I  have  before  said,  fully  with  the  aims 
of  those  seeking  reform  in  the  principles  and  methods  of  elementary  instruction, 
I  yet  could  not  fail  to  see  or  avoid  making  an  application  of  the  principles  I  had 
developed,  to  the  correction  of  certain  grievous  errors  some  of  these  well  dia- 
posed  friends  of  education  had  fallen  into. 


480  OSWEGO  SYSTEM  Of  OBJECT  INSTRUCTION. 

J  know  how  short  is  the  usual  school-attending  period  of  the  great  mass  of 
the  children  for  whom  our  school  system  is  framed.  Avoiding,  therefore,  all 
educational  scheming,  I  would  have  that  system  so  sound  in  its  principles,  and 
so  judicious  in  its  methods,  that  it  may  leave  these  children,  on  the  threshhold 
of  the  apprentice  stage  of  life,  with  all  their  natural  endowments  so  brought  into 
willing  and  active  exercise  by  preliminary  training,  that  nothing  in  the  whole 
world  of  relation,  designed  for  their  improvement  or  pleasure,  should  be  thereafter 
unappropriated ;  that  by  its  thorough  drill  in  the  strictly  elementary  branches  of 
learning,  it  should  so  furnish  them  with  the  keys  to  all  educational  knowledge, 
that  their  future  attainments  should  be  limited  only  by  the  necessities  of  their 
peculiar  lot. 

In  noticing  the  English  system  of  instruction  mentioned,  I  dwelt  mainly  upon 
what  I  then  regarded  as  its  error  in  the  introduction  of  science  at  too  early  a 
stage  in  the  work  of  education,  not  only  in  the  form  of  positive  science,  but  in 
the  scientific  aspect  in  which  the  common  matters  of  daily  life  and  observation 
were  treated,  and  also  the  abuse  of  language  involved  in  their  practice. 

The  errors  into  which  I  feared  the  over-zealous  advocates  of  the  "  object  sys- 
tem "  might  fall  proved  to  be  no  chimeras.  An  evil,  which,  with  the  respect  I 
felt  for  American  teachers,  I  then  deprecated  as  somewhat  remote,  has  become 
more  imminent.  A  foreign  educational  scheme,  partial,  bigoted,  and  unphilo- 
sophical,  is  now  naturalized  in  the  country,  and  its  universal  propagation  de- 
manded by  zealous  advocates.  The  "  Oswego  System  "  is  the  new  impress  that 
is  to  give  it  currency  on  this  side  the  water. 

To  increase  the  deception,  the  very  text-books  of  the  English  system  have 
been  brought  over  and  (to  the  scandal  of  American  publishers  it  must  be  con- 
fessed) with  no  alteration,  save  a  little  upsetting  and  a  turning  wrong  end  fore- 
most of  here  and  there  a  section,  have  been  issued  as  of  American  authorship. 

Impulsive  friends  of  education  have  somewhat  indiscreetly  indorsed  it,  by 
speaking  of  Oswego  as  "  the  Mecca  of  American  teachers ;"  and  of  the  move- 
ment as  "  a  reform  which  is  welcomed  by  the  best  minds  of  the  age,  which  has 
been  prophesied  and  prayed  for  by  the  best  lights  of  other  years." 

Even  some  persons,  who  should  have  been  more  discriminating,  looking  only 
at  the  motives  of  its  partisans,  have  good  naturedly  given  it  a  vague  counte- 
nance, as  ladies  sometimes  give  a  "character"  to  a  stupid  or  shiftless  domestic, 
who  "  means  well." 

Besides,  in  the  State  of  New  York,  legislation  has  been  successfully  invoked 
to  establish  a  school  for  training  teachers  in  the  methods  of  a  foreign  school  so- 
ciety—  of  dubious  reputation  at  home— outside  of  its  Normal  School,  which  is 
supposed  to  have  been  created  for  the  very  purpose  of  educating  teachers  in  the 
most  approved  methods  of  instruction  of  every  grade  and  wherever  originating. 

With  these  circumstances  in  view,  when  invited  to  prepare  a  paper  for  the 
last  meeting  of  the  National  Association  of  Teachers,  on  the  "  Object  System," 
a  sense  of  duty  constrained  me  to  accept.  And  I  ventured  on  a  discussion  of 
the  subject  which  I  knew  must  be  inadequate,  if  for  no  other  reasons,  that  I  was 
precluded  from  presenting  the  most  obvious  objections  to  the  system,  inasmuch 
as  I  had  done  this  on  a  previous  occasion,  and  because  also  the  invitation  L  re- 
ceived from  the  Executive  Committee  of  the  Association  rather  limited  me  to  a 
half  hour  and  which  I  endeavored  not  to  transcend. 


OSWEGO  SYSTEiM  OF  OBJECT  INSTRUCTION.  481 


THE  OSWEGO  SYSTEM  OF  OBJECT  INSTRUCTION. 


THE  topic  assigned  me  for  the  present  half  hour  is  the  "  Object 
"System  "  of  instruction.  To  avoid  all  misapprehension,  I  may  say 
at  the  outset,  that  I  shall  confine  myself  mainly  to  some  thoughts 
in  connection  with  what  is  called  in  this  country  the  "  Oswego  Sys- 
tem." This  is  substantially  a  system  of  instruction  transplanted 
from  England,  and  known  there  as  the  Home  and  Colonial  Society's 
system  of  instruction.  The  circumstances  attending  the  adoption 
of  this  foreign  system  on  this  side  of  the  water  need  not  be  stated, 
•except  in  the  most  general  terms.  The  zealous  Superintendent  of 
the  public  schools  of  Oswego,  (whom  I  need  not  name,)  in  common 
with  many  holding  similar  relations  to  the  schools  of  other  cities, 
felt  the  need  of  some  change  in  the  methods  of  instruction  prevail- 
ing in  the  primary  departments.  The  want  he  felt  he  thought  well 
supplied  by  the  English  system  alluded  to.  With  zeal  and  energy 
he  set  himself  to  the  task  of  introducing  it  in  his  own  proper  field 
of  labor.  He  has  accomplished  this — and  more.  We  find  the  same 
system  now  urged  upon  the  friends  of  education  everywhere  for  a 
similar  adoption.  And  so  it  comes  fairly  before  a  National  Associ- 
ation of  Teachers  for  discussion. 

It  hardly  need  be  said  to  those  who  are  familiar  with  the  history 
of  the  educational  reform,  inaugurated  in  this  country  nearly  forty 
years  ago,  that  the  new  want  I  have  spoken  of,  as  being  generally 
felt  by  a  certain  class,  was  not  to  be  satisfied  by  the  search  for,  or 
the  finding  of  any  new  principles  of  education. 

The  new  problem  offered  to  those  interested  was,  how  shall  .we 
apply,  in  the  earlier  stages  of  school  instruction,  most  wisely  and 
most  fruitfully,  principles  of  education  generally  recognized  and 
•acknowledged  in  this  country? 

I  say  generally  recognized  and  acknowledged  in  this  country. 
This  is  not  too  much  to  say,  for  here  more  than  elsewhere — almost 
only  here — were  sound  principles  and  Methods  of  instruction  gen- 
erally prevalent.  The  reasons  are  obvious.  The  American  mind  is 
unusually  active  upon  educational  subjects,  for  theoretically  our  re- 
publican form  of  government  is  based  upon  universal  education,  and 
an  education  not  peculiar  to  a  caste  or  rank  in  society.  Again,  the 
great  majority  of  our  educated  men  have  been  practical  teachers  for 
longer  or  shorter  periods  of  their  lives.  Look  for  a  moment  at  the 
shistory  of  education  during  the  period  mentioned,  a  histoiy  adorned 


482  OSWEGO  SYSTEM  OF  OBJECT  INSTRUCTION. 

with  the  names  of  many  eminent  men.  A  history  that  furnishes 
abundant  evidence  of  much  thought  in  the  elucidation  of  principles 
and  in  the  devising  of  methods.  Notice  the  machinery  of  the  edu- 
cational movement ;  the  essays  and  discussions,  the  public  addresses 
and  the  multiplied  associations  for  mutual  improvement ;  the  Teachers* 
institutes  and  the  Normal  schools ;  the  literature  of  the  profession  of 
the  teacher  embracing  everything  worthy  of  record,  whether  in  the- 
way  of  personal  thought  or  individual  experience,  the  world  being 
tributary;  not  forgetting  the  periodical  contributions  from  every 
quarter.  Further,  mark  the  resulting  evidence  of  all  this  labor  well 
performed  in  the  general  public  interest,  in  the  judicious  legislation, 
and  in  the  wonderful  improvement  in  text-books.  And  again,  notice 
the  light  incidentally  furnished  by  special  systems  of  education. 
The  result  of  this  general  awakening  in  the  public  mind  upon  the 
subject  of  education,  I  hardly  need  to  say,  though  reaching  to  the 
principles  most  fundamental,  was  not  manifested  by  measures  vio- 
lent, hasty,  or  subversive.  The  reform  kept  step  with  the  advance 
of  an  enlightened  public  sentiment,  if  at  times  it  were  one  step  ii> 
advance.  It  were  well  if  the  future  waves  of  improvement  in  the 
same  direction  should  roll  as  quietly  and  steadily  forward  on  the- 
shores  of  coming  time. 

But  a  graded  system  of  school  instruction  brings  out  a  new  want. 
A  large  class  of  children  are  brought  together,  with  little  or  no- 
previous  instruction,  and  almost  too  young  for  the  continuous  atten- 
tion and  thought  required  to  master  the  elementary  branches  of  the- 
school-room,  as  taught  in  the  ordinary  way.  They  are  deprived  of 
those  educational  influences  that  so  pervaded  the  atmosphere  of  the 
school-room  of  mixed  grades  and  which  insinuated  themselves  into 
every  avenue  to  the  active  mind  of  childhood.  They  are  now  de- 
pendent for  improvement  upon  the  exercise  of  their  own  intuitive 
powers  and  upon  the  resources  of  the  teacher. 

We  need  not  stop  to  discuss  the  question,  whether,  viewed  in  re- 
lation to  the  proper  orderly  and  harmonious  development  of  their 
faculties,  these  children  should  be  in  school  at  all,  thus  early,  for  in 
school  they  are.  And  so  it  happens,  that  under  the  new  circum- 
stances, that  which  should  be  the  work  of  nature,  is  brought  within 
the  function  of  the  teacher,  and  accordingly  new  topics  and  method*!, 
of  instruction  must  be  introduced.  It  hardly  need  be  pointed  out 
with  what  extreme  diffidence  we  should  approach  any  task  that  in- 
volves any  interference  with  nature's  methods,  or  how  zealous  should 
be  the  endeavor  when  such  interference  is  necessitated  to  follow  her 
analogous  teachings,  and  how  promptly  we  should  cease  our  inter- 


OSWEGO  SYSTEM  OF  OBJECT  INSTRUCTION.  483 

ference  at  the  first  moment  practicable.  The  natural  channels  to 
the  pupil's  mind  are  first  to  be  opened  before  they  can  be  used  for 
receiving  or  imparting  instruction.  Again,  the  natural  avenues  are 
to  be  used  before  what  may  be  called  the  conventional  ones  are 
brought  in  requisition.  And  so  the  powers  of  observation  and 
speech  (or  spoken  language)  are  to  be  cultivated  before  any  positive 
instruction  in  reading  and  writing  is  attempted.  Cultivated  it  should 
be  remembered  for  purposes  and  ends  mainly  practical  and  discipli- 
nary. Has  it  occurred  to  those  of  you  who  have  seen  blind  chil- 
dren spelling  out  with  busy  fingers  and  delighted  faces  the  page  of 
raised  letters  and  thus  receiving  food  for  their  active  minds  through 
a  channel  wrought  out  for  them  by  the  agency  of  a  sense  perverted 
from  its  legitimate  function,  that  in  teaching  ordinary  children  to 
read  from  the  printed,  or  written  page,  the  same  thing  is  substan- 
tially done ;  that  is,  the  eye  is  made  to  perform  the  natural  office  of 
the  ear — that  a  new  gift  is  imparted. 

One  result  of  bringing  together  children  of  the  same  grade  is,  to 
bring  out  more  distinctly  the  class  mental  peculiarities,  the  class 
educational  needs,  and  so  more  obviously  the  proper  modes  of  meet- 
ing those  needs.  I  have  elsewhere  stated,  in  a  summary  way,  my 
idea  of  the  scope  and  aim  of  a  proper  elementary  education,  which 
I  will  venture  to  reproduce.  "  That  we  should  educate  the  senses 
and  through  the  senses,  the  intelligence  and  will,  and  then  apply  and 
subordinate  the  engendered  habits  of  accurate  observation  and  the 
cultivated  intellectual  activity  and  power,  to  proper  methods  of  ac- 
quiring the  elementary  studies  and  their  outgrowing  attainments." 

In  seeking  to  accomplish  the  ends  thus  defined,  the  main  reliance 
of  the  educator  is  upon  a  proper  study  and  comprehension  of  the 
characteristics  of  childhood,  the  natural  order,  mode,  and  rate  of 
development  of  the  childish  faculties.  The  proof  of  this  is  furnished 
by  recalling  any  synoptical  statement  of  the  principles  of  education, 
and  noticing  how  many  of  them  relate  to  these  very  points.  It  is 
of  importance  to  remember  this  because  much  time  and  labor  have 
been  lately  wasted  in  devising  methods  of  instruction  based  upon 
foundations  merely  speculative,  and  some  injury  done  by  attempting 
to  put  these  methods  in  practice.  I  may  illustrate  this  by  citing 
two  or  three  forms  of  theoretical  error  in  this  regard  representing 
quite  a  diversity  of  opinion — all  "  idols  of  the  cave." 

The  first  of  these  is  a  method  based  upon  a  theory  that  every 
child  must  "rediscover  for  himself  the  truths  and  results  to  be  ac- 
quired in  each  department  of  knowledge  undertaken  by  the  learner," 
and  the  corollary  from  this,  "  that  no  truth  or  knowledge  which  is- 


484  OSWEGO  SYSTEM  OF  OBJECT  INSTRUCTION. 

in  its  nature  a  consequent  on  some  other  truths  or  knowledge  can 
by  any  possibility  be  in  reality  attained  by  any  mind,  until  after 
that  mind  has  first  secured  and  rightly  appreciated  those  antecedent 
truths  or  knowings."  This  involves,  it  will  be  observed,  a  form  of 
instruction  always  absolutely  synthetical.  This  is  partially  true 
— true  as  far  as  intuitive  education  is  concerned  and  true  no 
farther. 

Another  error,  not  unheard  of  by  this  Association,  is  a  theory 
that  there  is  a  rational  order  of  development  in  the  course  of  the 
sciences,  and  that  it  ought  to  be  followed  in  common  education ; 
for  the  reason  that  it  is  claimed  that  this  order  of  succession  in  the 
sciences  corresponds  precisely  to  the  order  of  evolution  of  the  fac- 
ulties. Now  this  is  an  assumption  based  upon  the  most  fanciful 
analogies,  but  as  I  find  it  asserted  with  great  emphasis,  in  a  report 
to  which  my  own  name  is  signed,  I  leave  it  for  others  to  deal  with. 

One  other  theory  deserves  a  passing  notice.  It  will  be  found 
elaborated  by  Herbert  Spencer  and  cropping  out  quite  generally  in 
the  essays  and  discussions  that  have  since  appeared  upon  educa- 
tional topics.  After  admitting  the  distinction  between  education 
as  relates  to  discipline  and  to  the  value  of  the  knowledge  acquired, 
he  at  once  assumes  that  what  is  best  for  the  one  end  is  also  best  for 
the  other.  He  then  proceeds  to  develop  a  scheme  for  education 
based  upon  the  relative  and  practical  uses  of  knowledge.  If  his 
•course  of  reasoning  proves  anything  it  proves  that  physiology 
should  be  the  first  study  of  childhood,  then  the  means  of  getting  a 
livelihood,  then  the  treatment  of  offspring  and  the  government  of 
•children,  and  finally  the  study  of  social  science. 

Let  me  now  examine  briefly  the  mode  in  which  the  Oswego  Sys- 
tem aims  to  accomplish  the  ends  I  have  supposed.  To  be  sure  it 
claims  to  be  more  than  a  system  of  Primary  School  instruction.  It 
.claims  to  be  the  only  correct  system  for  any  stage  of  education. 
"That  if  adopted,  it  will  lead  to  a  complete  revolution  in  our  meth- 
ods of  teaching  in  this  country,"  (where  it  is  asserted  "  we  have 
never  had  any  system  based  on  sound  philosophical  principles,)  as 
also  in  the  profession  of  teaching  itself,  or  rather  it  will  make  teach- 
ing a  profession — a  title  it  has  yet  to  earn." 

In  making  a  somewhat  hurried  preparation  for  the  part  assigned 
me  on  this  occasion,  I  have  spent  some  time  in  the  examination  of 
the  various  manuals  designed  for  the  instruction  of  teachers  in  the 
new  system.  I  confess  the  result  has  been  somewhat  discouraging. 
The  principles  laid  down  are  somewhat  contradictory  in  their  char- 
acter. They  are  wanting  in  definiteness,  and,  most  of  all,  they  are 


OSWEGO  SYSTEM  OF  OBJECT  INSTRUCTION.  485 

so  enveloped  in  the  voluminous  details  of  methods,  that  it  is  difficult 
to  discover  the  distinctive  features,  and  somewhat  confusing  to  one 
attempting  to  discuss  them. 

Referring  then  to  the  Oswego  manuals,  I  find  first  a  statement  of 
what  are  called  Pestalozzian  plans  and  principles.  On  examination,  I 
find  that  some  latitude  has  been  used  in  applying  the  term  Pesta- 
lozzian. Transmutation  as  well  as  translation  will  be  seen  in  their 
treatment  of  the  great  reformer.  It  may  be  remarked  of  these  gen- 
erally, that  whatever  of  them  are  sound  have  not  the  claim  of  nov- 
elty to  American  teachers,  and  what  are  new  of  no  value,  if  not 
leading  to  positive  error. 

1.  Activity  is  a  law  of  childhood.    Accustom  the  child  to  do — educate  the 
hand. 

2.  Cultivate  the  faculties  in  their  natural  order — first  form  the  mind,  then 
furnish  it. 

3.  Begin  with  the  senses,  and  never  tell  a  child  what  he  can  discover  for 
himself. 

4.  Reduce  every  subject  to  its  elements — one  difficulty  at  a  time  is  enough 
for  a  child. 

5.  Proceed  step  by  step.     Be  thorough.     The  measure  of  information  is  not 
what  the  teacher  can  give,  but  what  the  child  can  receive. 

'  6.  Let  every  lesson  have  a  point,  except  in  junior  schools,  where  more  than 
one  lesson  is  required  before  the  point  is  reached,  each  successively  tending  to- 
wards it. 

7.  Develop  the  idea — then  give  the  term — cultivate  language. 

8.  Proceed  from  the  known  to  the  unknown — from  the  particular  to  the  gen- 
eral— from  the  concrete  to  the  abstract — from  the  simple  to  the  more  difficult. 

9.  First  synthesis,  then  analysis — not  the  order  of  the  subject,  but  the  order 
of  nature. 

Let  us  examine  these  principles  briefly. 

"  1st.  Activity  is  a  law  of  childhood.  Accustom  the  child  to  do 
— educate  the  hand." 

It  will  be  observed,  first,  that  there  is  an  implied  restriction  of 
this  law  of  childhood  to  his  physical  system.  Of  the  second  clause 
— should  it  not  rather  be  said,  let  the  child  do.  Let  him  use  not 
only  his  hands,  but  his  physical  system  generally.  The  distinction 
between  letting  the  child  do  and  accustoming  him  to  do,  at  this 
early  stage,  is  an  important  one,  and  is  related  (if  activity  is  a  gen- 
eral law  of  childhood)  not  only  to  physical  actions,  but  also  to  the 
senses  and  the  faculties  which  act  spontaneously  on  the  presentation 
of  their  proper  objects.  Should  not  a  system  of  so  much  pretension 
direct  us  wisely  here  on  the  very  threshhold  ? 

"  2d.  Cultivate  the  faculties  in  their  natural  order — first  form  the 
mind,  then  furnish  it." 

The  truth  enunciated  here  is  older  than  Pestalozzi;  and  may  be 
found  in  some  form  or  another  in  half  the  works  on  education  pub- 
lished in  this  country  during  the  last  thirty  years.  As  to  the  second 


486  O8WEGO  SYSTEM  OF  OBJECT  INSTRUCTION. 

clause,  one  might  naturally  ask,  is  it  a  corollary  from  the  first?  or 
only  meant  as  a  reiteration  ?  or  what  ? 

"  3d.  Begin  with  the  senses,  and  never  tell  a  child  what  he  can 
discover  for  himself." 

What  is  the  designed  relation  between  the  two  clauses  of  this 
rule  ?  Must  we  never  tell  a  child  what  he  can  discover  for  himself? 

"  4th.  Reduce  every  subject  to  its  elements — one  difficulty  at  a 
time  is  enough  for  a  child." 

This  seems  a  harmless  proposition.  But  the  practical  inferences 
in  the  way  of  method,  that  the  manuals  are  full  of,  gives  it  another 
aspect. 

"  5th.  Proceed  step  by  step.  Be  thorough.  The  measure  of  in- 
formation is  not  what  the  teacher  can  give,  but  what  the  child  can 
receive." 

Would  not  these  directions  indicate  that  the  process  of  education 
is  not  always  and  strictly  a  development  exercise,  in  which  the  child 
is  the  main  actor  ? 

"  Vth.  Develop  the  idea — then  give  the  term — cultivate  language." 

If  this  rule  were  designed  only  to  enforce  the  truth  that  ideas 
should  precede  language,  no  comment  would  be  necessary.  But 
herewith  is  connected  one  of  the  most  vicious  methods  of  the  Os- 
wego  System.  In  the  light  of  their  practical  teachings  it  means 
that  with  the  idea  the  term  must  be  invariably  connected ;  that  the 
observation  and  language  must  be  inseparably  connected.  And  it 
is  assumed  that  when  the  idea  is  mastered,  there  is  no  difficulty  in 
retaining  the  appropriate  term  on  the  part  of  the  pupil. 

It  is  claimed  that  the  peculiar  phraseology  of  the  summary  is 
strictly  a  resultant  of  the  workings  of  the  class  mind.  And  so  we 
find  in  connection  with  each  lesson,  or  series  of  observations,  the 
W.  B.  (writing  on  the  board)  and  the  S.  R  (simultaneous  repeti- 
tion) to  fix  in  the  pupil's  mind  the  set  phrase  and  the  stereotyped 
formula  that  the  teacher  furnishes  as  the  summary  of  the  particular 
class  exercise. 

But  the  partisans  of  the  Oswego  System,  or  their  progenitors  in 
England,  were  not  the  original  sinners.  It  was  precisely  here  where 
Pestalozzi  went  so  grievously  astray  from  his  own  early  principles, 
as  to  draw  from  one  of  his  cotemporaries  the  remark,  that  "he 
kicked  over  with  his  feet  what  he  built  up  with  his  hands."  And 
these  very  practices  of  his  have  been  discarded  by  intelligent  edu- 
cators everywhere,  even  when  professedly  following  the  doctrines  of 
the  German  school. 

"  Observation  (said  he)  is  the   absolute  basis  of  all  knowledge. 


OSWEGO  SYSTEM  OF  OBJECT  INSTRUCTION.  487 

The  first  object,  then,  in  education  must  be,  to  lead  a  child  to  ob 
serve  with  accuracy ;  the  second,  to  express  with  correctness  the 
result  of  his  observations."  There  is  abundant  evidence  from  his 
works  that  he  did  not  mean  by  this,  that  observation  should  be  the 
principal  object  of  instruction  at  its  earlier  stage  and  language  at  a 
later  period.  The  English  and  Oswego  disciples  have  faithfully 
copied  the  defects  of  their  master. 

Now  is  it  necessary  to  affirm  in  this  presence,  that  language  has 
absolutely  nothing  to  do  with  observation  as  far  as  it  concerns  the 
pupil  ?  That  the  observing  powers  are  exercised  for  a  long  period 
in  childhood  before  the  gift  of  language  is  received,  and  that  the 
child  not  only  uses  the  senses,  but  discriminates,  compares,  reasons, 
judges,  decides,  and  wills  in  connection  with  such  use  of  the  senses, 
and  all  this  without  the  use  of  any  language  ? 

But  the  time  comes  when  language  is  necessary  for  the  express- 
ion of  wants  and  ideas,  and  then  it  is  given.  In  the  roll  of  educa- 
tion the  teacher  avails  himself  of  this  natural  gift,  this  child-language, 
to  test  the  progress  of  the  child,  and  so  it  is  properly  connected  with 
observation  and  with  the  growth  of  ideas. 

Again,  a  period  comes  when  language  which  has  been  acquired  in- 
tuitively, and  without  any  conscious  effort  on  the  part  of  the  child, 
may  be  properly  a  subject  of  positive  instruction,  by  methods  so 
wisely  suggested  in  the  opening  address  of  the  President  of  this  As- 
sociation ;  for  when  the  higher  and  reflective  powers  of  the  mind 
are  brought  into  active  exercise,  language  precise  and  adequate  be- 
comes necessary  as  the  means  of  thought. 

Language  (let  me  repeat  again)  which  in  the  infancy  of  the  indi- 
vidual, as  well  as  that  of  the  race,  is  a  mere  means  of  expressing  the 
immediate  wants  of  the  individual  or  the  race  in  its  then  condition ; 
expands  not  only  commensurately  with  increasing  desires,  but  ab- 
solutely acquires  another  function ;  that  is,  as  the  instrument  of 
higher,  continuous,  and  abstract  thought;  and  this  fact,  or  the 
growth  of  language  to  meet  social  needs,  suggests  the  principle  that 
should  oftiide  in  the  introduction  of  language,  as  an  exercise  in  the 
school-room.  I  have  on  another  occasion  referred  to  this  topic  an«l 
so  I  can  only  hint  at  the  dangers  of  thus  early  and  intimately  con- 
necting the  study  of  language  with  the  development  of  tne  faculties 
of  observation.  The  thing  signified  is  lost  in  the  effort  to  remem- 
ber the  sign.  Have  you  not  all  seen  a  bright  boy  in  a  class,  wha 
could  and  would  answer  almost  intuitively  a  question  in  numbers 
like  the  following,  hesitate  and  stammer,  grow  confused  and  fail,  in 
attempting  to  cloak  the  fully  comprehended  truth  in  the  long  syllo- 
:gistic  formula  required  of  him  by  the  teacher  ?  Thus — 


488  OSWEGO  SYSTEM  OF  OBJECT  INSTRUCTION. 

If  2  bunches  of  matches  cost  4  cents,  what  will  4  bunches  cost  ?  The  pupil 
repeats  the  question  and  gives  the  solution. 

If  2  bunches  of  matches  cost  4  cents,  what  will  4  bunches  cost?  1  bunch  of 
matches  will  cost  one-half  as  much  as  2  bunches  of  matches.  If  2  bunches  of 
matches  cost  4  cents,  1  bunch  of  matches  will  cost  one-half  of  4  cents,  which  are 
2  cents.  4  bunches  of  matches  will  cost  4  times  as  much  as  1  bunch  of  matches. 
If  1  bunch  cost  2  cents,  4  bunches  will  cost  4  times  2  cents,  which  are  8  cents. 
Therefore,  if  2  bunches  of  matches  cost  4  cents,  4  bunches  of  matches  will  cost 
8  cents. 

The  very  tendency  of  formulated  language  is  to  routine.  The 
foundations  of  the  childish  memory  and  the  childish  principle  of 
association  are  upset,  and  the  natural  observation  of  childhood  en- 
tirely devitalized.  But  an  illustration,  furnished  by  the  same  mas- 
ter-hand that  gave  us  the  Yorkshire  boarding-school,  will  answer 
my  purpose  better. 

No  teacher  before  me,  who  has  read  Dickens'  "  Hard  Times,"  will 
fail  to  recall  the  following  scene : — 

Mr.  Gradgrind,  the  town  magnate  and  school  patron,  is  present  in  the  model 
school  of  his  own  creation,  where  Mr.  McChoakumchild  surcharges  the  youthful 
Coke-towners  with  grim  facts.  After  a  preliminary  address  to  the  teachers  in 
this  vein — 

"Now  what  I  want  is  facts.  Teach  these  boys  and  girls  nothing  but  facts. 
Facts  alone  are  wanted  in  life.  Plant  nothing  else,  and  root  out  everything, 
else.  You  can  only  form  the  mind  of  reasoning  animals  upon  facts ;  nothing 
else  will  ever  be  of  any  service  to  them.  This  is  the  principle  upon  which  I 
bring  up  my  own  children,  and  this  is  the  principle  on  which  I  bring  up  these 
children.  Stick  to  facts,  Sir  I" 

Having  thus  relieved  himself,  that  his  self-love  may  be  gratified  by  witness- 
ing the  triumphs  of  his  own  educational  scheming,  he  calls  out,  by  an  appropri- 
ate management  and  catechising,  its  distinctive  features. 

Sissy  Jupe,  Girl  No.  20,  the  daughter  of  a  strolling  circus  actor,  whose  life, 
no  small  share  of  it.  has  been  passed  under  the  canvass ;  whose  knowledge  of 
horse,  generic  and  specific,  extends  back  as  far  as  memory  reaches ;  familiar 
with  the  form  and  food,  the  powers  and  habits  and  everything  relating  to  the- 
horse ;  knowing  it  through  several  senses ;  Sissy  Jupe  has  been  asked  to  define 
horse.  Astonished  at  hearing  her  father  stigmatized  as  a  veterinary  surgeon,  a 
farrier  and  horse-breaker ;  bewildered  by  the  striking  want  of  resemblance  be- 
tween the  horse  of  her  own  conceptions  and  the  prescribed  formula  that  repre- 
sents the  animal  in  the  books  of  the  Home  and  Colonial  Society,  she  dares  not 
trust  herself  with  the  confusing  description,  and  shrinks  from  it  in  silence  and 
alarm. 

"Girl  No.  20  unable  to  define  a  horse,"  said  Mr.  Gradgrind.  Girl  No.  20  i» 
declared  possessed  of  no  facts  in  reference  to  one  of  the  commonest  of  animals, 
and  appeal  is  made  to  one  red-eyed  Bitzer,  who  knows  horse  practically  only 
as  he  has  seen  a  picture  of  a  horse,  or  as  he  has,  perhaps,  sometimes  safely 
weathered  the  perils  of  a  crowded  street  crossing. 

"Bitzer,"  (said  Thomas  Gradgrind,)  "your  definition  of  a  horse!" 

"Quadruped.     Graminivorous.     Forty  teeth,  namely:  twenty-four  grinders, 
four  eye  teeth,  and  twelve  incisive.     Sheds  coat  in  the  Spring ;  in  marshy  coun- 
tries sheds  hoofs  too.     Hoofs  hard,  but  requiring  to  be  shod  with  iron.     Age- 
known  by  marks  in  mouth."     Thus  (and  much  more)  Bitzer. 
.    "Now  Girl  No.  20,"  said  Mr.  Gradgrind,  "you  know  what  a  horse  is." 

The  features  of  a  school  system  thus  graphically  described  are  the 
features  of  the  Home  and  Colonial  Society's  system,  and  I  regret  to 
say  that  what  is  known  in  this  country  as  the  Oswego  System  is  its 
dneal  descendant. 


OSWEGO  SYSTEM  OF  OBJECT  INSTRUCTION.  489- 

That  this  is  no  misrepresentation  (see  lessons  on  objects,  page-. 
97.) 

LESSON   TWENTY-THIRD. 
jl  Lady  Bird. 

Ideas  to  be  developed — hemispherical,  fragile,  jointed. 

Parts.  Qualities. 

The  head Tt  is  animal. 

"    eyes Natural. 

"    feelers  or  palpi Hemispherical. 

"    horns  or  antennae The  wing  cases  are  red. 

"    wings Spotted. 

"    wing  cases  or  elytra Bright. 

"    thorax Hard. 

"    legs The  wing  cases  are  brittle. 

"    body Opaque. 

"    back Stiff. 

"    spots The  outside  is  convex. 

"    surface The  inside  is  concave. 

"    claws One  margin  straight. 

The  other  curved.  • 
The  wings  are  membranaceous, 
pliable, 
thin, 

transparent, 
"  fragile. 

The  body  is  oval, 

"          black. 
The  legs  -are  jointed, 
short, 
black. 

The  lesson  above  cited  is  one  of  a  large  number  sketched  for  the- 
use  of  teachers ;  all  models  for  still  others  of  a  similar  character  to 
be  framed  as  they  shall  be  needed,  and  designed  to  cover  the  whole 
period  of  school  instruction.  Is  such  endless  repetition  of  obvious 
qualities  a  natural  and  nourishing  food  for  the  childish  mind  ?  Will 
it  never  tire  of  such  thin  gruel  of  utilitarianism  ?  And  looking  at 
the  real  object  of  a  public  school  system  as  our  own,  supported  from 
the  public  treasury,  designed  to  obviate  the  accidents  of  birth  or 
fortune,  by  placing  the  keys  of  knowledge  in  every  youthful  hand,  is 
such  chaff  a  substitute  for  a  thorough  grounding  in  the  elementary 
branches  ?  is  it  a  good  preparation,  even,  for  the  same  ?  But  con- 
ceding that  these  exercises  accomplish  the  end  for  which  they  were 
designed,  is  it  not  a  cultivation  of  the  perceptive  faculties  too  exclu- 
sive, and  at  the  expense  of  the  other  powers  of  the  pupil  ? 

It  is  claimed,  however,  that  thus  are  laid  the  foundations  for  a 
future  structure  of  science ;  that  we  ascend  from  form  to  geometry, 
from  place  to  geography,  &c.,  <fec.  Than  this  nothing  can  be  more 
mistaken.  Perceptions  of  form  and  color  are  quite  distinct  from, 
geometry  and  chromatography.  Language  is  one  thing,  and  the 
science  ofgrammai  quite  another. 


490  OSWEGO  SYSTEM  OF  OBJECT  INSTRUCTION. 

That  scientific  and  technical  language  is  prematurely  introduced 
in  the  methods  adopted  at  Oswego,  no  one  can  question  who  visits 
the  Oswego  schools.  One  hears  little  children,  not  two  weeks  un- 
der instruction,  taught  that  certain  parts  of  a  sheep  (or  the  picture 
of  a  sheep)  are  "  principal,"  others  u  secondary,"  and  some  "  char- 
acteristic." One  hears  from  infant  mouths  such  terms  as  "  grami- 
niverous  and  chalybeate,  iridescent  and  amorphous,  serrated  and  fo- 
liaceous,  imbricated  and  indigenous."  Children  there  are  taught 
not  only  to  discriminate,  with  the  eye,  the  various  shades  and  hues 
of  color,  but  loaded  down  with  such  terms  as  hyaline,  watchet,  laz- 
uline,  indigene,  carneline,  rosine,  coraline,  venetia,  morone,  salmo- 
nine,  peachine,  and  magenta. 

The  9th  and  last  principle  laid  down  is  the  following : — "  First 
synthesis,  then  analysis — not  the  order  of  the  subject,  but  the  order 
of  nature."  I  leave  for  others  to  discuss  the  first  clause  of  the  rule. 
I  may  venture  this  inquiry,  however.  If  it  be  true  "  that  all  intelli- 
gent action  whatever  depends  upon  the  discerning  of  distinctions 
among  surrounding  things,"  does  not  this  principle  require  that 
analysis  should  be  the  first  step  in  the  work  of  education  ?  And 
further,  as  one  examines  the  specimen  lessons  in  the  Oswego  text- 
books, even,  does  it  not  appear  that  so  far  as  the  exercise  of  the 
observing  faculties  is  properly  conducted,  it  is  pure  analysis,  while 
the  mere  framing  of  the  definition  or  the  formulated  summary  can 
only  be  called  synthetical. 

The  last  clause,  ("  not  the  order  of  the  subject,  but  the  order  of 
nature,")  whatever  its  supposed  relation  to  the  former,  contains  an 
important  truth  which  I  would  thus  interpret.  All  subjects  should 
be  presented  to  a  child  in  view  of  the  order  in  which  his  faculties 
are  developed ;  in  connection  with  his  already  existing  ideas,  as 
they  may  be  indicated  by  the  form  in  which  his  curiosity  manifests 
itself,  or  otherwise,  that  they  may  be  retained  by  some  principle  of 
association ;  and  also  in  relation  to  their  practical  value  and  uses, 
as  acquirements  and  discipline,  for  the  time  being.  And  contrari- 
wise, they  should  not  be  presented  in  relation  to  any  assumed  order 
of  knowledge  or  any  scientific  arrangement  or  classification.  (I  am 
speaking  now  especially  of  those  subjects  which,  in  the  primary 
school-room  and  in  the  case  of  young  children,  should  precede  and 
furnish  the  foundation  of  what  are  ordinarily  regarded  as  the  ele- 
mentary studies.)  Scientific  names,  definitions  and  classification  are 
designed  for  a  special  and  practical  purpose;  and  that  purpose, 
manifestly,  not  related  to  the  instruction  of  infants  or  the  early  his- 
tory of  our  race.  A  young  child  (and  for  that  matter  the  savage) 


OSWEGO  SYSTEM  OF  OB'ECT  INSTRUCTION.  491 

has  no  practical  use  for  science  and  therefore  does  not  need  its 
technicalities.  What  he  does  need  are  words,  figurative  expressions, 
or  a  classification  connected  in  a  living  way  to  his  senses,  his  ob- 
servation, his  experience,  the  range  of  his  reasoning  powers,  and  by 
the  use  of  which  he  can  remember,  reproduce,  or  communicate  to 
another  his  sensations  and  ideas. 

The  scientific  mode  should  be  reserved  for  a  later  period  of  in- 
struction, when  science,  as  such,  has,  by  the  development  of  the 
pupil,  acquired  a  practical  value. 

For  modern  science,  be  it  remembered,  (and  herein  it  differs  from 
the  older  forms,)  is,  from  its  very  nature,  far  removed  from  the  range 
of  a  child's  observation,  and  has  no  obvious  relations  to  the  little, 
every-day  world  in  which  he  lives  and  moves.  It  is  based  upon 
structure  and  organs,  and  unobvious,  and  to  the  child,  unimportant 
properties,  and  includes,  what  Spencer  has  called,  "  completeness  of 
prevision."  And  though  there  are  certain  external  features  which 
•ordinarily  indicate,  to  the  eye  of  the  expert,  the  peculiarities  of  in- 
ternal structure,  yet  the  connection  can  not  be  appreciated  at  an 
•immature  age. 

So  true  is  this,  that  I  find  a  modern  writer  of  great  logical  acute- 
ness  thus  expressing  himself: — 

Science,  as  I  shall  afterwards  have  occasion  to  illustrate,  is  painful  from  the 
necessity  of  dis- associating  appearances  that  go  naturally  and  easily  together,  of 
renouncing  the  full 'and  total  aspect  of  an  object  by  which  it  engages  agreeably 
the  various  senses,  and  of  settling  upon  some  feature  that  has  no  interest  to  the 
common  eye.* 

I  have  ventured  to  elaborate  what  seemed  to  me  to  be  the  truth 
-contained  in  the  clause  under  discussion.  But  that  this  is  not  the 
interpretation  of  it  adopted  by  the  advocates  of  the  Oswego  System 
may  be  seen  by  referring  either  to  a  single  model  lesson,  or  to  the 
•general  method  of  treating  a  particular  subject.  Take,  by  way  of 
illustration,  almost  the  first  lesson  in  the  manual.  It  is  a  develop- 
ment exercise  to  cultivate  the  powers  of  observation.  The  children 
are  first  told  that  paper  is  artificial,  that  it  is  made  of  linen  rags, 
that  linen  is  made  from  the  stem  of  a  plant  called  flax.  They  then 
observe  its  obvious  qualities ;  they  are  next  supplied  with  the  terms 
pliable,  translucent,  inflammable,  <fcc. 

But  one  must  not  stop  upon  individual  lessons,  but  take  subjects. 

What  I  am  now  about  to  say  is  related  also  to  principle  No.  4 — 
"  Reduce  every  subject  to  its  elements." 

Take  the  method  of  teaching  reading.  If  one  takes  up  a  printed 
•page  it  may  be  resolved  into  lines,  these  lines  into  words,  the  words 

*  Bain.     "The  Senses  and  Intellect." 


492  OSWEGO  SYSTEM  OF  OBJECT  INSTRUCTION. 

into  letters,  (to  say  nothing  of  points,)  the  letters  into  combination 
of  forms,  that  may  be  further  classified  as  straight  lines  and  curved, 
perpendicular  and  horizontal.  As  related  to  the  printer's  art,  this 
may  be  called  reducing  the  subject  to  its  elements,  or  following  the 
order  of  the  subject. 

Again,  the  words  on  the  page  (which  is  speech  represented  to  the 
eye)  represent  a  variety  of  combinations  of  sounds,  which  may  be 
resolved  into  their  elementary  sounds ;  these  into  classes  as  atonicr 
sub-tonic,  &c. ;  and  still  further  according  to  the  position  of  the 
vocal  organs  in  producing  these  elementary  sounds.  This  may  be 
called  reducing  the  subject  to  its  elements,  or  following  its  order. 

If  our  language  were  strictly  phonetic,  these  two  classes  of  ele- 
ments could  be,  in  some  degree,  approximated,  and  thus  the  art  of 
reading,  as  an  art,  could  be  acquired  without  any  great  waste  of 
effort  on  the  part  of  the  learner,  particularly  an  adult  learner.  But 
this  is  not  true.  The  number  of  elementary  characters  does  not 
correspond  to  the  number  of  elementary  sounds.  The  forms  of  the 
characters  have  no  actual  or  symbolic  relation  to  the  sounds. 

Custom  has  also  sanctioned  a  variety  of  form  in  the  same  letters. 
These  have  each  been  provided  with  a  name  conventional  and  arbi- 
trary, sometimes  resembling  its  power  in  composition,  and  some- 
times not. 

Furthermore,  to  increase  the  perplexities,  the  same  sounds  are- 
represented  by  different  letters  and  combinations ;  and  these  last  do- 
not  uniformly  represent  the  same  sound.  So  that  our  language  is 
irregularity  run  wild.  The  rule  is  the  exception  and  the  exception 
is  the  rule. 

Now  the  method  of  the  Home  and  Colonial  Society  (and  the  Os- 
wego  plan  is  but  little  better)  brings  the  child,  face  to  face,  with  this- 
mountain  of  difficulties,  and  on  the  plea  of  reducing  every  subject  to- 
its  elements,  picks  up  each  individual  difficulty,  one  at  a  time,  and 
throws  it  a  stumbling-stone  at  the  feet  of  the  pupil.  With  fatigu- 
ing exercise,  perhaps,  the  whole  ground  may  be  at  last  stumbled 
over.  Listen  to  the  role  and  judge. 

The  pupils  are  first  taught  to  distinguish  by  the  eye  all  the  Ro- 
man capitals ;  next,  to  distinguish  clumsy  imitations  of  these,  a& 
many  as  can  be  formed  by  combinations  of  straight  lines ;  and  then 
similar  imitations  of  the  remainder  formed  by  straight  lines  and- 
curved.  A  similar  plan  is  now  adopted  in  teaching  the  forms  of 
the  smaller  letters.  The  pupils  are  practiced  in  repeating  the  forty, 
more  or  less,  elementary  sounds  of  the  language.  They  are  lead  to- 
notice  the  position  of  the  organs  of  speech  in  making  these  sounds.. 


OSWEGO  SYSTEM  OF  OBJECT  INSTRUCTION.  493 

At  tlii?  stage  (First  Step — pupils  between  four  and  five  years  of  age) 
they  are  encumbered  with  the  application  of  the  terras,  "  tonic,  at- 
onic and  sub-tonic,"  &c.,  to  the  sounds  in  question. 

They  are  taught  to  form  uncouth  imitations  of  the  spurious  capi- 
tals, before  mentioned,  with  pieces  of  lath ;  then  to  print  them  on 
the  slate.  Then  comes  the  learning  of  twenty-six  arbitrary  names 
of  letters  and  connecting  these  with  the  same  number  of  conven- 
tional forms.  The  same  course  is  pursued  with  the  small  letters. 
The  pupils  are  next  exercised  in  the  sounds  of  the  vowels  and  dip- 
thongs;  not,  however,  their  power  in  composition.  They  are 
taught  to  spell  classes  of  words  of  one  syllable.  Only  at  this  point 
do  any  proper  exercises  in  reading  (or  in  fact  in  learning  to  read) 
begin ;  and  even  then  these  are  in  accordance  with  a  somewhat 
clumsy  phonic  method. 

It  is  claimed  for  this  plan,  the  stupidity  of  which  no  description 
can  fully  portray,  that  it  "  puts  the  child  in  possession  of  a  key  by 
which  he  is  able  to  help  himself — a  very  important  principle  in  ed- 
ucation." A  hundred  such  keys  will  leave  a  child  groping  and 
knocking  at  the  door  of  our  written  language,  in  which  the  sound 
too  is  spelt  three  different  ways  and  ough  stands  for  half  its  vowel 
sounds. 

All  this  is  done,  as  it  is  supposed,  to  carry  out  a  principle  as- 
cribed to  Pestalozzi ;  that  the  work  of  the  educator  should  be  ana- 
lytical and  that  of  the  learner  synthetical. 

This  is  what  they  propose  to  do  theoretically.  Meanwhile,  how- 
ever, the  pupil,  in  spite  of  this  attempt  to  hamper  his  feet  with  the 
intricacies  and  perplexities  of  our  language,  has  been  covertly  mak- 
ing his  way  by  a  more  direct,  natural,  and  easy  route  to  the  same 
end.  In  this  respect  the  child  has  shown  himself  wiser  than  the 
master.  By  the  aid  of  a  memory  which  can  only  be  characterized 
as  "  adhesive  "  in  the  extreme,  he  has  been  quietly  learning  words 
as  words,  on  the  blackboard,  on  the  lesson  cards,  and  in  the  text- 
book of  the  school-room.  He  has  been  classifying  words  in  accord- 
ance with  his  own  principle  of  association,  to  assist  his  memory 
when  its  mere  adhesiveness  has  failed ;  and  now  noting  their  resem- 
blances and  differences,  he  has  analyzed  them  for  himself  into  their 
elements  and  thus  learned  the  powers  of  letters  in  composition.  In 
short,  he  has  grasped  the  idea  of  the  sole  object  of  learning  to  read, 
and  directed  his  steps  by  the  shortest  route  to  that  end. 

Years  ago  I  read  in  Emerson's  "Schoolmaster"  that  the  best  way 
of  learning  to  read  was  to  let  children  learn  words  first  and  after- 
wards the  letters  of  which  they  are  made;  and  why?  because  "this 


494  OSWEGO  SYSTEM  OF  OBJECT  INSTRUCTION. 

is  nature's  method."  I  can  not  stop  to  outline  this  word-method 
by  showing  how  completely  it  follows  the  order  of  nature. 

I  will  call  your  attention  now,  briefly,  to  the  Oswego  method  of 
teaching  drawing.  It  commences  from  combinations  with  two 
straight  lines,  then  with  three,  and  so  on  up  to  seven  or  eight. 
Then  combinations  with  four  right  and  two  acute  angles,  then  with 
obtuse  angles.  Combinations  with  four  rectangular  triangles. 
Combinations  with  the  various  quadrangular  figures.  Then  combi- 
nations with  the  various  curves.  This  is  all  elementary  to  geometri- 
cal drawing.  This  doubtless  has  its  uses.  This  is  better  than  no 
instruction  in  drawing,  perhaps. 

But  that  this  is  not  the  way  to  teach  drawing  as  an  art,  or  for  the 
practical  and  pleasurable  uses  which  render  its  acquisition  desirable, 
I  think  that  the  great  mass  of  experts  will  agree.  Spencer  speaks 
of  an  elementary  drawing-book,  on  a  similar  plan,  as  most  vicious, 
in  principle,  as  only  "  a  grammar  of  form  with  exercises."  Ruskin 
is  equally  emphatic  in  recommending  an  entirely  different  course. 

The  same  regard  to  the  order  of  the  subject  and  disregard  of  the 
order  of  nature  is  seen  in  the  selection  and  arrangement  of  topics 
for  the  object  lessons ;  in  the  scientific  tone  that  pervades  the  whole 
series,  and  in  the  early  introduction  of  science  (distinctly)  into  their 
educational  course ;  as  if  this  were  unavoidable  in  attempting  to 
impart  any  useful  knowledge  to  the  child. 

The  late  Archbishop  Whately  disposed  of  this  opinion  epigram- 
matically  by  asking,  "  Can  not  a  child  be  taught  that  a  nettle  will 
sting  without  being  taught  the  science  of  botany  ?" 

That  these  are  not  unwarranted  criticisms  on  the  Oswego  methods, 
let  me  appeal  to  the  manuals  in  which  they  are  embodied.  The 
extracts  illustrative  of  methods  may  be  appropriately  introduced  by 
a  few  sentences  selected  either  from  preface  or  introduction,  some- 
what in  the  form  of  precepts. 

"  The  design  of  this  work  is  to  present  a  definite  course  of  elementary  instruc- 
tion adapted  to  philosophic  views  of  the  laws  of  childhood." 

'*  It  would  seem  too  obvious  to  require  an  argument  that  every  teacher  " — 
(and  for  that  matter,  it  might  have  been  added,  every  superintendent  of  public 
schools  and  each  school-book  compiler)  "  should  clearly  comprehend  the  char- 
acter of  the  infant  mind  and  its  mode  of  operation." 

That  a  proper  lesson  "  should  equally  avoid  detailed  information,  on  the  one 
hand,  and  on  the  other,  mere  general  notices,  such  as  constitute  a  table  of  con- 
tents or  heading  of  a  chapter." 

"  That  it  is  important,  as  far  as  possible,  to  give  the  children  a  good  deal  of 
latitude;  and  let  the  discoveries  be  their  own,  except  as  they  maybe  guided  in 
part  by  the  teacher." 

"  Those  who  fall  into  a  mechanical  way  of  giving  such  instruction  and  do  not 
perceive  the  principle  involved,  completely  defeat  its  intention  and  they  had  far 
better  keep  to  old  plans  and  old  books."  The  italics  are  mine. 

Turn  now  to  "  Lessons  on  objects,"  (page  132  and  the  following.) 


O8WEGO  SYSTEM  OF  OBJECT  INSTRUCTION.  495 

It  is  the  "  fourth  step,"  or  designed  for  children  of  seven  or  eight 
years  old.  The  subject  is  the  metals.  Seven  pages  are  devoted  to 
the  general  subject.  The  mode  of  their  occurrence  is  given ;  their 
distinguishing  "  characters ;"  their  properties  as  reflectors  of  light 
and  heat,  as  conductors  of  heat  and  electricity.  The  specific  grav- 
ity of  ten  are  given  in  numbers  to  the  third  decimal.  The  weight 
of  a  cubic  foot  of  the  common  metals  is  also  given.  They  are  told 
the  number  of  tons  that  rods  an  inch  square,  of  the  common  metals^ 
will  severally  sustain  without  breaking.  Detailed  information  upon 
the  other  general  properties  are  likewise  furnished  by  the  teacher, 
to  an  extent  that  will  suggest  the  thought  that  not  only  is  "  a  good 
deal  of  latitude  given  the  children,"  but  some  degree  of  longitude. 
Then  follow  eight  model  lessons  on  as  many  metals,  in  which  the 
properties,  qualities,  uses,  geographical  and  geological  relations  are 
given  with  almost  encyclopedic  particularity ;  though  not  always 
with  the  accuracy  desirable  in  a  text-book. 

We  will  now  open  the  other  manual,  "  Elementary  Instruction." 
As  in  the  former  case,  take  the  "  fourth  step,"  the  children  of  the 
same  age  as  before.  Under  the  head  of  "objects,"  (page  134,) 
"  Sketches  on  the  Bible."  In  another  place  it  is  stated  "  that  the 
general  aim  of  the  teacher  in  a  Bible  lesson  is  to  produce  a  relig- 
ious impression."  Let  us  see  how  this  is  done. 

10.      SKETCHES  ON  THE  BIBLE. 

Having  drawn  from  the  class,  by  a  few  direct  and  simple  questions,  that  the 
Bible  was  not  always  a  printed  book — was  not  first  written  in  English — was 
not  bestowed  on  mankind  at  once,  complete  from  Genesis  to  Revelation,  but  in 
detached  parts ;  and  having  told  them  to  consider  the  successive  portions  in 
which  it  was  given,  the  language  in  which  it  was  first  written,  and  the  form  in 
which  it  then  appeared,  the  children  ought  to  be  in  possession  of  most  of  the 
facts  referred  to ;  therefore,  during  the  greater  part  of  the  lessons,  the  business 
of  the  teacher  would  bo  to  lead  them  to  collect  and  arrange  what  they  already 
know. 

I.  Scripture — in  what  portions  given,  and  at  what  period. 

1st.  Possessors  of  Scripture — the  Hebrew  nation.  Not  when  we  first  recog- 
nize it  in  Egypt,  but  previous  to  the  settlement  in  Canaan.  Date  of  this  event. 
At  that  time  the  Israelites  had  the  writings  of  Moses,  probably  including  one  or 
two  of  the  Psalms,  and  the  book  of  Job.  Thence  to  the  first  captivity  they  re- 
ceived successively  the  books  of  Joshua,  Judges,  Samuel,  Kings,  Chronicles,  the 
writings  of  David,  those  of  his  son.  a  portion  of  the  greater  and  most  of  the 
lesser  prophets.  After  the  return,  the  narratives  of  Ezra,  Nehemiah  and  Esther, 
with  the  three  last  prophetical  books.  Date  of  the  return. 

2d.  Books  of  the  New  Testament  period.  '  Also  considered  with  respect  to 
writers,  titles,  and  oracles.  Date  of  conclusion  of  Scripture.  Text  learned: 
Hebrews  i,  1 — "  God,  who  at  sundry  times  and  in  divers  manners  spake  in  times 
past  unto  the  fathers  of  the  prophets,  hath  in  these  last  days  spoken  unto  us  by 
His  Son." 

IL  Language — that  in  which  Scripture  was  first  written — translations. 

1st.  Every  revelation  prior  to  the  date  of  the  first  captivity  made  in  Hebrew 
This  accounted  for.  Books  of  Daniel  and  Ezra  written  partly  in  Hebrew  and 
partly  in  Chaldee.  Lead  the  class  to  infer  the  probable  reason  of  this,  from  con- 
sideration as  to  the  subject  of  the  portions  written  in  Chaldee ;  principally  such 


496  OSWEGO  SYSTEM  OF  OBJECT  INSTRUCTION. 

as  include  original  letters,  decrees,  <fcc.,  of  the  Babylonish  and  Persian  govern- 
ments. Scriptures  posterior  to  the  date  of  the  captivity  written  in  Chaldee,  and 
all  the  earlier  books  translated  into  the  same  tongue.  No  sooner  did  the  ancient 
Hebrew  become  a  dead  language,  than  the  Scriptures  were  put  into  the  vernacular 
tongue  by  men,  such  as  Ezra,  acting  under  the  immediate  inspiration  of  God. 
Conclusion  drawn  from  this,  and  text  learned,  showing  the  importance  of  under- 
standing the  Word  of  God:  1  Cor.  xiv,  19 — "I  had  rather  speak  five  words 
with  my  understanding,  that  by  my  voice  I  might  teach  others  also,  than  ten 
thousand  words  in  an  unknown  tongue." 

2d.  The  coming  of  the  time  in  which  the  Gentiles  were  to  be  led  to  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  truth,  marked  by  the  dispersion  of  the  Scriptures  among  them. 
Providence  of  God  shown  in  this.  Its  design  and  effect.  Give  general  account 
of  various  translations,  and  particular  one  on  the  Septuagint.  Refer  to,  and 
prove  the  importance  of,  the  last  translation.  Refer  to  prevalence  of  the  Greek 
tongue  in  every  part  of  the  civilized  world,  as  connected  providentially  with 
the  publication  of  the  Gospel  in  that  language. 

To  connect  this  period  with  what  follows,  touch  very  briefly  on  the  general 
professions  of  Christianity.  Division  of  the  Roman  Empire  and  subsequent 
spread  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  Catholic  churches.  Progress  of  the  latter. 
Extent  of  her  power.  Change  with  respect  to  the  language  of  the  Bible. 
Scripture  written  in  Latin  throughout  all  the  countries  of  the  Western  Empire. 

III.  Forms  under  which  Vie  Scriptures  have  been  presented  at  di/artnt  periods. 
1  st.  Derivation  of  the  terms  Bible  and  Scripture.     Sacred  words  of  the  Jews' 

writings.  Not  books.  Kind  of  materials  chiefly  used,  either  parchment  or  vel- 
lum. Scroll — when  not  in  use,  rolled  up  on  a  slender  cylinder  like  a  school 
map;  hence,  origin  of  the  term  volume.  Refer  to  the  Scribes.  Their  office. 
Importance  and  accuracy  of  their  labors. 

2d.  Describe  sacred  records  of  Christians  in  the  Middle  Ages.  Illuminated 
MSS.  What  they  were.  Why  so  called?  Sometimes  rolls,  oftener  books. 
Beauty  and  value  of  these  copies.  The  copyists — what  class  of  men  they  were. 
Their  mode  of  life,  position,  and  character,  compared  with  that  of  the  "Jewish 
Scribes. 

3d.  Sacred  records  in  the  modern  form.  Class  observe  their  own  Bibles,  and 
state  how  they  differ  externally  from  those  before  described.  Why  composed 
of  many  sheets  bound  together,  not  of  one  rolled  up  ?  Why  made  of  paper 
rather  than  parchment?  Why  no  longer  MSS.?  Give  brief  account  of  the  in- 
vention of  printing  and  its  immediate  consequence.  The  great  multiplication  of 
copies.  Effect  of  the  distribution  of  these  all  over  the  world.  Specimens  of 
Scriptural  translations  in  one  hundred  and  forty-eight  languages  were  to  be  seen 
at  the  Great  Exhibition.  Compare  God's  present  method  of  making  known 
Himself  and  His  will  to  that  He  adopted  in  the  Apostolic  age.  Then,  super- 
natural gift  of  tongues,  enabling  the  Apostles  so  to  preach  that  all  could  un- 
derstand. Why  necessary  then  ?  Now,  the  same  object  effected  without  a 
miracle,  by  the  translation  of  the  Bible  into  different  languages,  so  that  the  na- 
tions may  still  say,  "  We  do  hear  them  speak  in  our  tongues  the  wonderful 
works  of  God."— Acts  ii,  1 1 . 

IV.  Unchangeableness  of  the  inspired  word — its  influence. 

Bible  to  be  regarded  as  a  perfect  whole.  The  New  Testament  not  an  abro- 
gation, but  a  development  of  the  principles  contained  in  the  Old.  Text:  Mat- 
thew v,  17,  18.  This  might  be  proved  by  reference  to  the  nature  of  God,  but 
is  evidently  seen  by  the  invariable  influence  of  the  Scriptures  on  the  condition 
of  man  in  all  ages  and  countries.  Compare  the  mental  and  moral  condition  of 
the  Jews  prior  to  their  first  captivity,  with  that  of  the  nations  surrounding  them. 
Refer  to  countries  in  which  the  Bible  is  unknown  at  this  day;  without  except- 
ion, utterly  barbarous  and  degraded.  Refer  to  countries  in  which  its  doctrines 
are  rejected,  and  yet,  because  the  people  have  learned  something  of  the  histori- 
-cal  events  recorded  in  it  because  its  precepts  (though  their  origin  is  not  recog- 
nized) are  interwoven  with  social  laws,  they  take  a  far  higher  rank.  Instance, 
Mohammedans.  Refer  to  countries  in  which  the  Scriptures  are  held  to  be  true, 
and  the  people  do  not  read  them,  because  the  ecclesiastical  power  has  put  a  seal 
on  the  book.  These  are  better  off  than  those  before  named,  for  they  hear  of 
the  name,  and  know  somewhat  of  the  character  of  Jesus,  and  through  the  thick 
•mists  of  tradition  the  light  of  the  Word  will  sometimes  shine. 


OSWEGO  SYSTEM  OF  OBJECT  INSTRUCTION.  497 

Conclusion  drawn — that  the  Bible  is  a  great  engine  of  civilization,  as  well  aa 
the  source  of  spiritual  knowledge.  Effect  of  its  free  circulation  throughout  the 
land.  Refer  to  the  renovation  now  commenced  in  heathen  lands,  from  the 

.Mtl  of  Scriptures  and  spiritual  teaching.  Duty  incumbent  on  us  to  place  the 
Bible  iu  the  households  of  our  own  and  other  countries.  "We  may  anticipate 
the  promised  blessing,  that  they  who  water  others  shall  themselves  be  watered. 

Now  imagine,  if  you  please,  a  teacher  of  a  public  school  standing 
in  the  presence  of  a  class  of  pupils  between  the  ages  of  seven  and 
twelve,  composed  of  such  material  as  ^ill  be  found  in  our  cities  and 
large  towns,  "  talking  like  this  book,"  ana  tell  me,  will  such  themes, 
thus  presented,  conduce  to  any  feelings  worthy  of  the  name  of  re- 
ligious impressions  ?  Is  such  instruction  in  accordance  with  "  phi- 
losophic views  of  the  laws  of  childhood  ?"  Do  you  smile  at  the 
absurdity  of  the  extracts  I  have  given  ? — there  is  hardly  a  page  in 
-either  of  the  two  volumes  of  Oswego  gospel  but  contains  matter 
•equally  ridiculous.  The  fact  is,  this  peculiar  adaptation  of  Pesta- 
lozzianism  could  hardly  be  otherwise,  for  though  fresh  from  an 
American  press,  it  yet  had  its  origin  in  what  may  be  called  the 
<lnrk  ages  of  educational  history  in  England ;  that  is,  some  thirty 
years  ago. 

[There  is  a  difficulty  attending  the  proper  treatment  of  this  sub- 
ject. I  mentioned  at  the  outset  the  considerations  which  made  it 
a  suitable  theme  for  discussion  in  even  a  national  assemblage  of 
teachers.  But  when  one  exposes  the  fallacy  of  any  of  the  princi- 
ples, the  absurdity  of  any  of  the  methods,  up  start  the  advocates  of 
tin  >ystcm  and  repudiate  the  obnoxious  features,  or  claim  that  these 
are  but  experiments,  looking  towards  something  to  be  perfected  in 
the  alembic  of  the  future.  And  when  the  vicious  tendencies  of  the 
system,  as  a  whole,  are  pointed  out,  then  these  same  parties  fall 
back  upon  the  quality  of  their  motives. 

But  the  very  exclusiveness  of  their  theory  forbids  any  hope  of 
improvement  with  the  best  intentions  that  underlie  it. 

They  are  on  record  at  the  very  outset  in  this  wise.  The  system 
as  presented  to  the  American  public  is  claimed  to  embody  "  the 
light  and  experience  of  the  best  schools  of  Europe,  where  these 
'methods  have  been  longest  and  most  thoroughly  tested."  That  it 
is  "  a  definite  course  of  elementary  instruction  adapted  to  philosophic 
riews  of  the  laws  of  childhood,"  &c.,  <fec. 

Furthermore,  a  legislative  grant  has  been  obtained,  as  has  been 
already  mentioned,  not  for  experimental  purposes,  looking  towards 
improvement  in  elementary  instruction,  but  to  train  teachers  in  this 
particular  system. 

But  the  time  allotted  will  not  permit  me  to  pass  in  review  other 
features  of  the  so-called  Oswego  System,  equally  objectionable. 


498  OSWEGO  SYSTEM  OF  OBJECT  INSTRUCTION. 

The  task  I  have  already  performed  would  have  been  a  disagreeable 
one,  even  if,  with  more  time  and  preparation,  I  could  have  flattered 
myself  that  it  had  been  well  done.  It  is  still  more  so,  conscious  as- 
I  am  of  its  imperfectness.  But  it  is  important  that  the  work  of  pri- 
mary instruction  should  be  well  conducted.  And  it  is  claimed  for 
the  Oswego  System,  by  its  advocates,  that  in  no  other  way  can  this 
be  accomplished  than  by  the  methods  prescribed  in  the  books  from 
which  I  have  quoted.  The  State  of  New  York  has  given  a  legisla- 
tive sanction  to  the  justness  of  this  claim,  by  appropriatiug  money 
for  the  support  of  a  training  school  for  teachers,  where  these  princi- 
ples and  methods  are  adopted  and  applied.  The  legislatures  of  other 
States  will  doubtless  be  invited  to  follow  this  example. 

I  regard  the  whole  scheme  as  unwise  and  defective.  A  sense  of 
duty  has  therefore  constrained  me  to  call  the  attention  of  the  teach- 
ers of  the  country  to  the  subject,  that  others  more  nearly  related 
to  our  common  school  system,  and  otherwise  more  competent  than 
myself,  may  hereafter  more  thoroughly  expose  its  vicious  tendencies.} 

I  would  not,  even  now,  be  understood  as  discouraging,  in  the 
slighest  degree,  the  addition  to  our  present  modes  of  primary  school 
instruction  of  any  new  or  desirable  features,  or  the  adoption  of  any 
new  methods  to  meet  new  educational  wants,  from  whatever  source 
obtained. 

I  will  venture  to  illustrate  my  idea.  It  was  my  good  fortune  not  1 
many  months  ago  to  visit,  under  favorable  circumstances,  the  schools 
of  a  western  city.  I  saw  there  the  evidences  of  a  most  intelligent 
supervision,  by  one  familiar  with  the  whole  subject  of  American  ed- 
ucation, and  who  had  carefully  studied  the  principles  and  methods 
of  instruction  in  other  lands.  I  saw  a  corps  of  teachers,  from  high- 
est to  lowest,  intelligent,  active,  animated  by  a  full  sense  of  the  im- 
portance of  their  work  and  imbued  with  the  same  spirit  that  con- 
trolled the  supervision.  I  saw  the  usual  elementary  course  in  our 
common  schools,  preceded  by,  associated  with,  and  supplemented 
by  well  selected  oral  lessons  that  made  the  whole  a  living  form  of 
education.  Viewing  the  pupils  as  individuals,  I  saw  that  a  natural 
and  suitable  aliment  was  so  wisely  spread  before  each  mind  as  to. 
insure  the  proper  grasp  and  growth,  and  as  a  consequence,  mental 
activity  and  strength.  Looking  at  them  as  classes,  I  beheld  each 
grade  of  pupils,  in  the  school-rooms,  responsive  to  every  word  and 
ook  and  thought  of  the  teacher. 


SUMMARY  AND  ESTIMATE  OF  PESTALOZZIANISM.  499 

REV.  ROBERT  HEBERT  QUICK,  late  University  Lecturer  at  Cam- 
ridge  on  the  History  of  Education,  in  his  Essays  on  Educational 
Reformers  (Longmans,  1868  and  1885),  treats  with  characteristic 
airness  and  practicality,  of  Pestalozzi  and  his  Principles  and 
lethods  of  Teaching,  in  Essay  vii,  pp.  157—197,  from  which  the 
allowing  passages,  with  their  citations  mainly  from  Pestalozzi's 
Letters  on  Early  Education,"  are  taken: 

Pestalozzi,  it  has  been  said,  invented  nothing  new.  Most  assuredly  he 
id  not  invent  the  .principle  that  education  is  a  developing  of  the  faculties 
ither  than  an  imparting  of  knowledge.  But  he  did  much  to  bring  this 
•uth  to  bear  on  early  education,  and  to  make  it  not  only  received  but 
ery  widely  acted  on. 

If  we  seek  for  the  root  of  Pestalozzi's  system,  we  shall  find  it,  I  think, 
i  that  which  was  the  motive  power  of  Pestalozzi's  career,  ' '  the  enthu- 
asm  of  humanity."  Consumed  with  grief  for  the  degradation  of  the 
wiss  peasantry,  he  never  lost  faith  in  their  true  dignity  as  men,  and  in 
ie  possibility  of  raising  them  to  a  condition  worthy  of  it.  He  cast 
x>ut  for  the  best  means  of  thus  raising  them,  and  decided  that  it  could 
3  effected,  not  by  any  improvement  in  their  outward  circumstances,  but 
JT  an  education  which  should  make  them  what  their  Creator  intended 
iem  to  be,  and  should  give  them  the  use  and  the  consciousness  of  all 
leir  inborn  faculties. 

From  my  youth  up,  I  felt  what  a  high  and  indispensable  human  duty 
is  to  labor  for  the  poor  and  miserable;  .  .  that  he  may  attain  to  a 
isciousness  of.  his  own  dignity  through  his  feeling  of  the  universal 
wers  and  endowments  which  he  possesses  awakened  within  him;  that 
may  not  only  learn  to  gabble  over  by  role  the  religious  maxim  that 
nan* is  created  in  the  image  of  God,  and  is  bound  to  live  and  die  as  a 
Id  of  God,"  but  may  himself  experience  its  truth  by  virtue  of  the 
vine  power  within  him,  so  that  he  may  be  raised,  not  only  above  the 
\vinu;  oxen,  but  also  above  the  man  in  purple  and  silk  who  lives 
worthily  of  his  high  destiny. 

A.gain  he  says  (and  I  quote  at  length  on  the  point,  as  it  is  indeed  the 
y  to  Pestalozzianism): 

iy  have  I  insisted  so  strongly  on  attention  to  early  physical  and 
ellectual  education?     Because  I  consider  these  as  merely  leading  to  a 
rher  aim,  to  qualify  the  human  being  for  the  free  and  full  use  of  all 
faculties  implanted  by  the  Creator,  and  to  direct  all  these  faculties 
ard  the  perfection  of  the  whole  being  of  man,  that  he  may  be  enabled 
act  in   his  peculiar  station  as  an  instrument  of  that  All-wise  and 
mighty  Power  that  has  called  him  into  life. 

Believing  in  this  high  aim  of  education,  Pestalozzi  required  a  proper 
rly  training  for  all  alike. 

Every  human  being  has  a  claim  to  a  judicious  development  of  his 
julties  by  those  to  whom  the  care  of  his  infancy  is  confided. 
Pestalozzi  therefore  most  earnestly  addressed  himself  to  mothers,  to 
Qvince  them  of  the  power  placed  in  their  hands,  and  to  teach  them 

to  use  it. 

The  mother  is  qualified,  and  qualified  by  the  Creator  Himself,  to 
come  the  principal  a^ent  in  the  development  of  her  child;  .  .  and 
iat  is  demanded  of  her  is  —  a  thinking  love.  .  God  has  given  to 


500  PESTALOZZIANISM  IN  ENGLAND  -  QUICK. 

thy  child  all  the  faculties  of  our  nature,  but  the  grand  point  remains 
undecided  —  how  shall  this  heart,  this  head,  these  hands,  be  employed? 
To  whose  service  shall  they  be  dedicated?  A  question  the  answer  to 
which  involves  a  futurity  of  happiness  or  misery  to  a  life  so  dear  to  thee. 

.  It  is  recorded  that  God  opened  the  heavens  to  the  patriarch  of  old, 
and  showed  him  a  ladder  leading  thither.  This  ladder  is  let  down  to 
every  descendant  of  Adam ;  it  is  offered  to  thy  child.  But  he  must  be 
taught  to  climb  it.  And  let  him  not  attempt  it  by  the  cold  calculations 
of  the  head,  or  the  mere  impulse  of  the  heart;  but  let  all  these  powers 
combine,  and  the  noble  enterprise  will  be  crowned  with  success.  These 
powers  are  already  bestowed  on  him,  but  to  thee  it  is  given  to  assist  in 
calling  them  forth.  Maternal  love  is  the  first  agent  in  education.  . 
Through  it  the  child  is  led  to  love  and  trust  his  Creator  and  his  Redeemer. 

From  the  theory  of  development  which  lay  at  the  root  of  Pestalozzi's 
views  of  education,  it  followed  that  the  imparting  of  knowledge  and  the 
training  for  special  pursuits  held  only  a  subordinate  position  in  his 
scheme. 

Education,  instead  of  merely  considering  what  is  to  be  imparted  to 
children,  ought  to  consider  first  what  they  may  be  said  already  to  pos- 
sess, if  not  as  a  developed,  at  least  as  an  involved  faculty  capable  of 
development.  Or  if,  instead  of  speaking  thus  in  the  abstract,  we  will 
but  recollect  that  it  is  to  the  great  Author  of  life  that  man  owes  the  pos- 
session, and  is  responsible  for  the  use,  of  his  innate  faculties,  education 
.should  not  only  decide  what  is  to  be  made  of  a  child,  but  rather  inquire, 
what  it  was  intended  that  he  should  become?  What  is  his  destiny  as  a 
•created  and  responsible  being?  What  are  his  faculties  as  a  rational  and1 
moral  being?  What  are  the  means  for  their  perfection,  and  the  end  held 
out  as  the  highest  object  of  their  efforts  by  the  Almighty  Father  of  all, 
,both  in  creation  and  in  the  page  of  revelation? 

Education,  then,  must  consist  in  a  continual  benevolent  superintend- 
•ence,  with  the  object  of  calling  forth  all  the  faculties  which  Providence 
has  implanted;  and  its  province,  thus  enlarged,  will  yet  be  with  less 
difficulty  surveyed  from  one  point  of  view,  and  will  have  more  of  a 
systematic  and  truly  philosophical  character,  than  an  incoherent  mass  of 
exercises  —  arranged  without  unity  of  principle,  and  gone  through  with- 
out interest  —  which  too  often  usurps  its  name. 

An  education  of  the  latter  description  he  denounced  with  the  refor 
lory  zeal  of  a  Luther. 

The  present  race  of  schoolmasters  sacrifice  the  essence  of  true  teaching 
to  separate  and  disconnected  teaching  in  a  complete  jumble  of  subjects. 
By  dishing  up  fragments  of  all  kinds  of  truths,  they  destroy  the  spirit  of 
truth  itself,  and  extinguish  the  power  of  self-dependence  which,  witl 
that  spirit,  cannot  exist. 

With  Pestalozzi  teaching  was  not  so  much  to  be  thought  of  as  training. 
Training  must  be  found  for  the  child's  heart,  head,  and  hand,  and  the 
•capacities  of  the  heart  and  head  must  be  developed  by  practice  no  less 
than  those  of  the  hand.  The  heart,  as  we  have  seen,  is  first  influenced 
by  the  mother.  At  a  later  period  Pestalozzi  would  have  the  charities  of 
the  family  circle  introduced  into  the  school-room  (rather  ignoring  the 
difference  which  the  altered  ratio  of  the  young  to  the  adults  makes  in  the 
•conditions  of  the  problem),  and  would  have  the  child  taught  virtue  by  his 
•  -affections  being  exercised  and  his  benevolence  guided  to  action.  There  is 
an  interesting  instance  on  record  of  the  way  in  which  he  himself  applied 
this  principle.  When  he  was  at  Stanz,  news  arrived  of  the  destruction 
of  Altdorf .  Pestalozzi  depicted  to  his  scholars  the  misery  of  the  children 
ihere.  "Hundreds,"  said  he,  "are  at  this  moment  wandering  about  as 


SUMMARY  AND  ESTIMATE  OF  PESTALOZZIANISM.  501 

i|  you  were  last  year,  without  ti  home,  perhaps  without  food  or  clothing." 

lie  tlieu  asked  them  if  they  would  uot  wish  to  receive  some  of  these 

children  among  them?    This,  of  course,  they  were  eager  to  do.     Pesta- 

lo/xi  then  pointed  out  the  sacrifices  it  would  involve  on  their  part,  that 

thi'V  would  have  to  share  everything  with  the  new  comers,  and  to  eat 

ness  and  work  more  than  before.     Only  when  they  promised  to  make 

|  these  sacrifices  ungrudgingly,  he  undertook  to  apply  to  Government 

I  that  the  children's  wish  might  be  granted.     It  was  thus  that  Pestalozzi 

I  endeavored  to  develop  the  moral  and  religious  life  of  the  children,  which 

||  is  based  on  trust  and  love. 

The  child's  thinking  faculty  is  capable,  according  to  Pestalozzi,  of  be- 
ling  exercised  almost  from  the  commencement  of  consciousness.  Indeed, 
lit  has  been  objected  against  Pestalozzi's  system  that  he  cultivated  the 
•mere  intellectual  powers  at  the  expense  of  the  poetical  and  imaginative. 
I  All  knowledge,  he  taught,  is  acquired  by  sensation  and  observation: 
[sometimes  it  has  been  thought  that  he  traces  everything  originally  to  the 
Ithe  senses;  but  he  seems  to  extend  the  word 'Anschauung  to  every  expe- 
firience  of  which  the  mind  becomes  conscious. 

The  child,  then,  must  be  made  to  observe  accurately,  and  to  reflect  on 
•its  observations.  The  best  subject-matter  for  the  lessons  will  be  the  most 
/ordinary  things  that  can  be  found. 

Not  only  is  there  not  one  of  the  little  incidents  in  the  life  of  a  child, 
[fin  his  amusements  and  recreations,  in  his  relation  to  his  parents,  and 
•friends,  and  playfellows;  but  there  is  actually  not  anything  within  the 
teach  of  a  child's  attention,  whether  it  belong  to  nature  or  to  the  employ- 
ments and  arts  of  life,  that  may  not  be  made  the  object  of  a  lesson  by 
•which  some  useful  knowledge  may  be  imparted,  and,  what  is  still  more 
[important,  by  which  the  child  may  not  be  familiarized  with  the  habit  of 
•thinking  on  what  he  sees,  and  speaking  after  he  has  thought.  The  mode 
»f  doing  this  is  not  by  any  means  to  talk  much  to  a  child,  but  to  enter 
•nto  conversation  with  a  child;  not  to  address  to  him  many  words,  how- 
ever familiar  and  well  chosen,  but  to  bring  him  to  express  himself  on  the 
feubject;  not  to  exhaust  the  subject,  but  to  question  the  child  about  it 
fend  to  let  him  find  out  and  correct  the  answers.  It  would  be  ridiculous 
[to  expect  that  the  volatile  spirits  of  a  child  could  be  brought  to  follow 
•any  lengthy  explanations.  The  attention  is  deadened  by  long  exposi- 
tions, but  roused  by  animated  questions.  Let  these  questions  be  short, 
•jlear,  and  intelligible.  Let  them  not  merely  lead  the  child  to  repeat  in 
•me  same,  or  in  varied  terms,  what  he  has  heard  just  before.  Let  them 
[excite  him  to  observe  what  is  before  him,  to  recollect  what  he  has  learned, 
land  to  muster  his  little  stock  of  knowledge  for  materials  for  an  answer. 
Know  him  a  certain  quality  in  one  thing,  and  let  him  find  out  the  same 
•in  others.  Tell  him  that  the  shape  of  a  ball  is  called  round,  and  if, 
[accordingly,  you  bring  him  to  point  out  other  objects  to  which  the  same 
fcroperty  belongs,  you  have  employed  him  more  usefully  than  by  the 
•most  perfect  discourse  on  rotundity.  In  the  one  instance  he  would  have 
Iliad  to  listen  and  to  recollect,  in  the  other  he  has  to  observe  and  to  think. 
8  From  observation  and  memory  there  is  only  one  step  to  reflection, 
•plough  imperfect,  this  operation  is  often  found  among  the  early  exer- 
cises of  the  infant  mind.  The  powerful  stimulus  of  inquisitiveness 
•prompts  to  exertions  which,  if  successful  or  encouraged  by  others,  will 
ead  to  a  habit  of  thought. 

Words,  which  are  the  signs  of  things,  must  never  be  taught  the  child 
•[ill  he  has  grasped  the  idea  of  the  thing  signified. 

When  an  object  has  been  submitted  to  his  senses,  he  must  be  led  to  the 


I'l.M  Al.ii/./IAMSM    IN    KNi.I.AND       (,»M<K. 


consciousness  of  tin-  impulsions  produced,  and  then  must  be  taught  the 
ilame  of   tin-  object  and  of  the  qualities  producing  tho>e   impres>. 
Last  of  all,  In-  muyt  ascend  to  the  definition  <>f  tin-  object. 

Tin-  object  -lessons  Pestalozzi  divided  into  three  -real  cla-ses.  under  the 
heads  of  —  (1)  Form;  (2)  Number;  (8)  Speech.  It  was  his  constant 
endeavor  to  make  his  pupils  distinguish  betu<  iuN  and  acd« 

dentals,  amkwith  his  habit  of  constant  analysis,  which  seems  pushed  to 
an  extreme  that  to  children  would  be  repulsive,  he  Bought  to  reduce 
Form,  Number,  and  Speech  to  their  elements.  In  his  alphabet  of  Form 
:  \  thin Lr  was  represented  as  having  the  square  as  its  base.  In  Number 
all  operations  were  traced  back  to  1  +  1.  In  Speech  the  children,  in  their 
cradles,  were  to  be  taught  the  elements  of  sound,  as  ba,  ba,  ba,  da, 
da,  da,  ma,  ma,  ma,  etc.  This  elementary  teaching  Pestalozzi  considered 
of  the  greatest  importance,  and  when  he  himself  instructed  lie  went  over 
the  ground  very  slowly.  Huss  tells  us  that  when  he  first  joined  P 
lo/./.i  the  delay  over  the  prime  elements  seemed  to  him  a  waste  of  time, 
but  that  afterward  he  was 'convinced  of  its  being  the  right  plan. 

Not  only  have  the  first  elements  of  knowledge  in  every  subject  the 
most  important  bearing  on  its  complete  outline,  but  the  child's  confidence 
and  interest  are  gained  by  perfect  attainment  even  in  the  lowest  stage  of 
instruction. 

i;\  bdi  <>) Meet-lessons  Pestalozzi  aimed  at  — 1,  enlarging  gradually  the 
spin  re  of  a  child's  intuition,  i.  e  .  increasing  the  number  of  objects  fall- 
ing under  his  immediate  perception;  2,  impressing  upon  him  those  per- 
ceptions of  which  he  had  become  conscious,  with  certainty,  clearness,  and 
precision;  :{.  imparting  to  him  a  comprehensive  knowledge  of  Ian 
for  the  expression  of  whatever  had  become  or  was  becoming  an  object  of 
his  consciousness,  in  consequence  either  of  the  spontaneous  impulse  <>f 
his  own  nature,  or  of  the  assistance  of  tuition. 

Of  all  the  instruction  given  at  Yvenlun.  the  most  successful,  in  the 
opinion  of  those  who  visited  the  school,  was  the  instruction  in  arithmetic. 
The  children  are  described  as  performing  with  great  rapidity  very  diffi- 
cult tasks  in  head  calculation.  IY-:a!o//i  l»a>ed  hi-  method  here,  a-  in 
other  subjects,  on  the  principle  that  the  individual  should  be  brought  to 
knowledge  by  a  road  similar  to  that  which  the  whole  race  had  used  in 
founding  the  science.  Actual  counting  of  things  preceded  the  first 
Cocker,  as  actual  measuring  of  land  preceded  the  original  Euclid.  The 
child  then  must  be  taught  to  count  things,  and  to  find  out  the  various 
processes  experimentally  in  the  concrete  before  he  is  given  any  abstract 
rule,  or  is  put  to  any  abstract  e\en -M  -  This  plan  N  now  commonly 
adopted  in  German  schools,  and  many  ingenious  contrivances  have  been 
introduced  by  which  the  combinations  of  things  can  be  pre-ent-  d  to  the 
children's  sight. 

Next  to  the  education  of  the  affections  and  intellect  conn-  th  <  exer- 
cises  in  which  the  body  is  more  prominent.  I  do  not  know  that  there' 
was  anything  distinctive  in  IV-talo/./i's  views  and  practices  in  physical 
education,  although  he  attached  the  due  importance  to  it  which  had  pre- 
viously been  perceived  only  by  Locke  and  Housscau,  and  in  Germany  by 
Basedow  and  his  colleagues  of  the  Philanthropin. 


MMAi;<i      \M>    ESTIMATE    «'l     1  KSTALn/XIANlS.M  503 

Great  pains  should  be  taken  with  the  cultivation  of  the  senses,  and 
finally  tin-  artistic  faculty  (Kmmtki'uft)  should  be  developed,  in  which  {he 
power  of  i  lie  mind  and  that  of  the  senses  are  united.  Music  and  drawing 
played  a  leading  part  in  Pestalozzi's  schools.  They  were  taught  to  all 
the  chili  In  -n.  even  the  youngest,  and  were  not  limited  to  the  conventional 
two  hours  a  week.  It  is  natural  to  children  to  imitate;  thus  they  acquire 
language,  and  thus,  with  proper  direction  and  encouragement,  they  will 
find  pleasure  in  attempting  to  sing  the  melodies  they  hear,  and  to  draw 
the  simple  objects  around  them.  By  drawing,  the  eye  is  trained  as  weH 
as  the  hand. 

A  per  -«m  who  is  in  the  habit  of  drawing,  especially  from  nature,  wil» 
eti-ilv  p-Tceive  many  circumstances  which  are  commonly  overlooked,  and 
will  form  a  much  more  correct  impression,  even  of  such  objects  as  he 
not  stop  to  examine  minutely,  than  one  who  has  never  been  taught 


to  look  upon  what  he  MM  with  an  intention  of  reproducing  a  likeness  of 
it.  The  attention  to  the  exact  shape  of  the  whole,  and  the  proportion 
of  the  parts,  which  is  KM  juisite  for  the  taking  of  an  adequate  sketch,  is 
convert.  (1  into  a  habit  and  becomes  both  instructive  and  amusing. 

Besides  drawing,  Pestalozzi  recommended  modeling,  a  hint  which  was 
afterward  worked  out  by  Fr5bel  in  his  Kindergarten. 

Differing  from  Locke  and  Bftsedow,  Pestalozzi  was  no  friend  to  the 
notion  of  giving  instruction  always  in  the  guise  of  amusement. 

I  am  convinced  that  such  a  notion  will  forever  preclude  solidity  of 
knowledge,  and,  from  want  of  sufficient  exertions  on  the  part  of  the 
pupil-,  will  1«  -ad  to  that  very  result  which  I  wish  to  avoid  by  my  prin- 
ciple of  a  constant  employment  of  the  thinking  powers.  A  child  must 
very  early  in  life  he  taught  the  lesson  that  exertion  is  indispensable  for 
(fee  attainment  of  knowledge. 

But  a  child  -hould  not  be  taught  to  look  upon  exertion  as  an  evil.  He 
should  IK-  encouraged,  not  frightened  into  it. 

An  in  ten  -t  in  study  is  the  first  thing  which  a  taacher  should  endeavor 
.'•itc  and  kerp  alive  There  are  scarcely  any  circumstances  in  \\  hich 
a  want  of  application  in  children  does  not  proceed  from  a  want  of  inter- 
md  there  are  perhaps  none  in  which  the  want  of  inten  -i  docs  not 
originate  in  the  mode  of  teaching  adopted  by  the  teacher.  I  would  go  SO 
far  as  to  lay  it  down  as  a  rule,  that  whenever  children  are  inattentive  and 
apparently  take  no  inten-t  in  a  lesson,  the  teacher  should  always  tir-t 
look  to  him-elf  for  the  rea-on.  .  .  Could  we  conceive  the  inde-criba- 
ble  tedium  which  mu-t  oppn  —  the  younir  mind  while  the  weary  hours 
ire  slowl}  p.--ini;  away  one  aft«T  another  in  occupation  which  it  can 
neither  reli-h  nor  understand,  could  we  remember  the  like  -ceiie-  which 
our  own  childhood  has  p;i~-rd  through,  we  should  no  longer  be  -urpri-ed 
at  the  renii-sness  ()f  the  schoolboy,  "creepini:  like  -nail  unwillingly  to 
•1  "  .  .  To  chan-e  all  tlii>,  we  must  adopt  a  better  mode  of 
instruction,  by  which  the  children  are  le--  1,-ft  to  themsrlvc-.  le>-  thrown 
upon  the  unwelcome  employment  of  passive  listening,  less  harshly  treated 
for  little  excusable  failings;  but  more  roused  by  <iue-tion>.  animated  by 
illustrations,  interested  and  won  by  kindnc-s. 

There  i-  H  most  remarkable  reciprocal  action  between  the  interest 
which  the  teacher  takes  and  that  which  he  communicates  to  his  pupils. 
If  he  is  n<>t  with  his  whole  mind  present  at  the  subject,  if  he  does  not 
•.\hether  he  is  understood  or  not,  whether  his  manner  is  liked  or  not, 
he  will  alienate  the  affections  of  his  pupils,  and  render  them  indiflVn  -nt 
to  what  he  says.  Hut  real  interest  taken  in  the  task  of  instruction  — 
kind  words  and  kinder  feelin-s  —  the  very  expression  of  the  features, 
and  the  glance  of  the  eye,  are  never  lost  upon  children. 


504  SUMMARY  OP  PESTALOZZIANISM.— BROWNING. 

OSCAR  BROWNING,  Assistant  Master  at  Eton  College  and  Senior  Fellow 
and  Lecturer  of  King's  College,  Cambridge,  in  his  Introduction  to  the 
History  of  Educational  Theories  (Kegan  Paul,  Trench  &  Co.,  London, 
1881),  devotes  a  chapter  (X)  to  Pestalozzi's  Life,  Theories,  and  Influence, 
from  which  we  take  the  following  summary  and  estimate: 

According  to  Pestalozzi  — 

The  end  of  education  is  the  harmonious  development  of  all  the  natural 
powers.  If  we  provide  for  this  harmonious  development  we  shall  have 
given  the  education  which  we  desire.  There  is  a  certain  order  determined 
for  us  which  our  development  should  follow,  there  are  certain  laws  which 
it  should  observe,  there  are  impulses  and  tendencies  implanted  in  us- 
which  cannot  be  extinguished  or  subdued.  The  natural  course  of  our 
development  comes  from  these  impulses.  A  man  wishes  to  do  every- 
thing which  he  feels  himself  strong  enough  to  do,  and  in  virtue  of  this  in- 
dwelling impulse  he  wills  to  do  this.  The  feeling  of  this  inward  strength 
is  the  expression  of  the  everlasting,  inextinguishable,  unalterable  laws 
which  lie  at  the  bottom  of  a  man's  nature.  These  laws  are  different  for 
different  individuals,  but  they  have  a  certain  harmony  and  continuity 
for  the  human  race.  Now  that  alone  can  be  considered  of  educative 
power  for  a  man  which  grapples  with  all  the  faculties  of  his  nature, — 
with  heart,  mind,  and  body.  On  the  other  hand,  any  one-sided  influence 
which  deals  only  with  one  of  these  faculties  by  itself,  undermines  and 
destroys  the  equilibrium  of  our  forces,  and  leads  to  an  education  which 
is  contrary  to  nature.  If  we  wish  to  raise  and  ennoble  ourselves  we  must 
accept,  as  the  true  foundation  for  this  effort,  the  unity  of  all  our  human 
powers.  What  God  has  joined  together  let  not  man  put  asunder. 

Pestalozzi  finds  the  best,  and  only  natural  means  of  elementary  instruc- 
tion, in  intuitional  object  teaching,  viz. :  in  making  clear  and  intelligible  to- 
the  child,  by  his  own  experience,  reflection,  and  expression,  the  object 
•tyhich  comes  before  his  eyes  or  his  consciousness  —  by  enabling  him  to- 
distinguish  in  language,  spoken  or  written,  or  represent  by  drawing,  the 
individual  thing  or  conception,  and  then  to  apply  this  same  method  to- 
music,  geography,  history,  and  natural  phenomena. 

Beyond  these  simple  parts  of  instruction  —  reading,  writing,  and 
arithmetic  —  Pestalozzi  does  not  go;  but  there  is  no  doubt  that  his  influ- 
ence over  education  was  enormous.  Poor,  and  without  learning,  he  tried 
to  reform  the  science  of  the  world.  He  was  enthusiastically  supported 
and  scornfully  abused.  His  place  among  educationalists  is  now  no  longer 
a  matter  of  doubt,  and  it  has  grown  year  by  year  since  his  death.  His 
methods  of  teaching  words,  forms,  and  numbers  were  accepted.  Speak- 
ing was  taught  by  pictures,  arithmetic  was  reformed ;  methods  of  geome- 
try, of  natural  history,  of  geography,  of  singing  and  drawing  were  com- 
posed after  Pestalozzi's  example.  Still  greater  was  the  influence  which 
he  exerted  over  the  general  theory  and  practice  of  education.  It  is  due 
to  him  that  we  have  accepted  as  a  truth  that  the  foundation  of  education 
lies  in  the  development  of  the  powers  of  each  individual.  The  method 
which  begins  by  educating  the  senses,  and  which  through  them  works  on 
the  intellect,  must  be  considered  as  derived  from  his  teaching.  The 
kindergarten  of  Frobel  is  only  the  particular  development  of  a  portion 
•>f  his  general  scheme.  His  example  also  gave  a  strong  impulse  to  the 
Caching  of  the  poor  and  destitute. 

We  live  so  completely  in  the  system  which  Pestalozzi  helped  to  form, 
that  it  is  difficult  for  us  to  realize  how  great  a  man  he  was.  He  may 
have  had  many  faults  as  an  organizer  and  an  instructor,  but  he  gave  hi& 
Vfe  for  the  lambs  of  the  flock.  He  was  the  first  teacher  who  inculcated 
unbounded  faith  in  the  power  of  human  love  and  sympathy.  He  divested 
himself  of  everything,  and  spent  the  whole  of  a  long  life  in  the  service 
of  the  poor  and  lowly,  subduing  himself  to  those  whom  he  taught,  and 
entering  into  the  secrets  of  their  minds  and  hearts.  He  loved  much,  and 
manv  shortcomings  may  be  forgiven  him. 


SUMMARY  AND  ESTIMATE  OF  PESTALOZZIANISM.  505- 

PROFESSOR  JAMES  LEITCH,  principal  of  the  Church  of  Scotland 
Normal  School  at  Glasgow,  in  his  Practical  Educationists  and  Their 
Systems  of  Teaching  (Glasgow:  Maclehose,  1876),  devotes  a  chap- 
ter to  Pestalozzi,  from  which  the  following  passages  are  taken: 

In  spite  of  his  ungainly  appearance,  however,  the  personal  influence 
of  the  man  was  very  great;  as  there  was  a  spirit  and  a  power  in  his 
very  look  which  was  quite  irresistible.  To  this  fact  Ramsauer  testifies  — 

"  In  Burgdorf,  an  active  and  entirely  new  mode  of  life  opened  to  me; 
there  reigned  so  much  love  and  simplicity  in  the  institution ;  the  life  was 
so  genial  —  I  could  almost  say  patriarchal ;  not  much  was  learned,  it  is 
true,  but  Pestalozzi  was  the  father,  and  the  teachers  were  the  friends  of 
the  pupils;  his  morning  and  evening  prayers  had  such  a  fervour  and 
simplicity,  that  they  carried  away  every  one  who  took  part  in  them; 
he  prayed  fervently,  read  and  explained  Gellert's  hymns  impressively, 
exhorted  each  of  the  pupils  individually  to  private  prayer,  and  saw  that 
some  pupils  said  aloud  in  the  bedrooms  every  evening  the  prayers  which 
they  had  learned  at  home,  while  he  explained  at  the  same  time  that  the 
mere  repeating  of  prayers  by  rote  was  worthless,  and  that  every  one 
should  rather  pray  from  his  own  heart." 

Pestalozzi  enumerates  the  following  pedagogical  principles: 

(1)  The  foundation  of  teaching  is  shewing  (demonstration).  (2)  In  every 
branch,  teaching  should  begin  with  the  simplest  elements,  and  should 
proceed  from  these  by  steps  suited  to  the  child's  development,  observing 
in  regard  to  this  the  laws  of  psychology.  (3)  The  teacher  should  dwell 
on  each  point  till  the  matter  of  instruction  becomes  the  free  mental  pos- 
session of  the  pupil.  (4)  The  acquisition  of  knowledge  and  skill  is  not 
the  chief  end  of  elementary  teaching,  but  the  development  and  strength- 
ening of  the  mental  powers.  (5)  The  relation  between  pupil  and  teacher, 
especially  also  the  school  discipline ;  should  be  based  on  and  be  regulated 
by  love.  (6)  Teaching  should  keep  in  view  the  purpose  of  education. 

The  following  is  Pestalozzi's  estimate  of  what  a  teacher  should  be :  — 
"The  schoolmaster  should  at  least  be  an  open-hearted,  cheerful,  affec-  "*} 
tionate,  and  kind  man,  who  would  be  as  a  father  to  the  children;  a  man  -^ 
made  on  purpose  to  open  children's  hearts  and  their  mouths,  and  to  draw  - 
forth  their  understandings,  as  it  were,  from  the  hindermost  corner.  In 
most  schools,  however,  it  is  just  the  contrary.  The  schoolmaster  seems,  i  •  I 
as  if  he  were  made  on  purpose  to  shut  up  children's  mouths  and  hearts, 
and  to  bury  their  good  understandings  ever  so  deep  under  ground.  That 
is  the  reason  why  healthy  and  cheerful  children,  whose  hearts  are  full  of 
joy  and  gladness,  hardly  ever  like  school."  And  his  opinion  of  the  duty 
of  teachers  to  interest:  "An  interest  in  study  is  the  first  thing  which  a 
teacher  should  endeavor  to  excite  and  keep  alive.  There  are  scarcely 
any  circumstances  in  which  a  want  of  application  in  children  does  not 
proceed  from  a  want  of  interest ;  and  there  are  perhaps  none  in  which 
the  want  of  interest  does  not  originate  in  the  mode  of  teaching  adopted  by 
the  teacher.  I  would  go  so  far  as  to  lay  it  down  as  a  rule,  that  wherever 
children  are  inattentive,  and  apparently  take  no  interest  in  a  lesson,  the 
teacher  should  always  first  look  to  himself  for  the  reason.  There  is  a 
most  remarkable  reciprocal  action  between  the  interest  which  the  teacher 
takes,  and  that  which  he  communicates  to  his  pupils.  If  he  is  not  with 
his  whole  mind  present  at  the  subject,  if  he  does  not  care  whether  he  is 
understood  or  not,  whether  his  manner  is  liked  or  not,  he  will  alienate 
the  affections  of  his  pupils,  and  render  them  indifferent  to  what  he  says. 
But  real  interest  taken  in  the  task  of  instruction — kind  words  and  kinder 
feelings  —  the  very  expression  of  the  features,  and  the  glance  of  the  eye, 
are  never  lost  upon  children." 

Prof.  Leitch  thus  characterizes  Pestalozzi  and  Fellenberg: 

Experience  had  brought  both  to  the  conclusion  that  society  was  to 
be  purified  only  by  an  improved  and  extended  education  for  all  classes, 
particularly  for  the  poor;  and  with  this  object  in  view,  they  each. 


5()<;  LEITCH'S  ESTIMATE  OF  PESTALOZZI  AND  FELLENBERG. 

founded  and  personally  conducted  educational  institutions,  which  they 
intended  to  serve  as  models  for  general  imitation.  They  agreed  in  many 
of  their  opinions  on  educational  method,  Fellenberg  having  adopted  sev- 
eral principles  directly  from  Pestalozzi,  who  was  his  senior  by  a  quarter 
of  a  century.  They  resembled  each  other  also  in  possessing,  in  a  high 
degree,  the  qualities  of  enthusiasm,  energy,  perseverance,  and  moral 
courage.  They  had  each  to  encounter  much  opposition,  and  to  over- 
come many  difficulties;  but  nothing  could  turn  them  from  their  purpose, 
or  abate  their  ardor.  Here  the  parallel  ends,  and  the  points  of  difference 
begin.  Pestalozzi  was  the  greater  man  in  that  he  had  genius,  sensibility, 
and  imagination,  in  addition  to  the  qualities  which  were  common  to 
both.  His  literary  works  prove  that  he  combined  many  of  the  highest 
qualities  of  the  philosopher  and  the  poet.  Fellenberg,  on  the  other  hand, 
had  no  literary  powers,  but  he  possessed  a  class  of  qualities  in  which 
Pestalozzi  was  singularly  deficient,  and  which  are  indispensable  to  the 
success  of  practical  undertakings  on  a  large  scale.  He  had  a  thoroughly 
disciplined  mind,  great  firmness  of  will,  a  sound  judgment,  remarkable 
sagacity,  keen  powers  of  calculation,  foresight,  inventive  skill,  governing 
tact  —  in  short,  all  the  qualifications  which  constitute  a  successful  admin- 
istrator. Thus  it  happened  that  while  Pestalozzi's  undertakings  fre- 
quently failed,  Fellenberg's  generally  succeeded.  Pestalozzi  brought 
ruin  and  misery  upon  himself  and  his  family;  Fellenberg  enriched  him- 
self.  The  life  of  Pestalozzi  was  sorely  troubled  by  unseemly  contentions 
among  his  assistants ;  around  Fellenberg  everything  worked  harmoni- 
ously.  Pestalozzi  often  contradicted  his  theory  in  attempting  to  apply  it 
to  practice;  with  Fellenberg  theory  and  practice  always  went  hand  in 
hand.  Pestalozzi  allowed  his  enthusiasm  and  his  genial  temper  to  lead 
him  into  all  sorts  of  extravagancies;  Fellenberg,  though  a  man  of  strong 
passions,  rarely  acted  impulsively.  This  remarkable  dissimilarity  between 
the  two  men  was  no  doubt  owing,  in  a  great  measure,  to  a  difference  in 
their  natural  endowment,  but  it  was  also  the  result  of  a  difference  of 
education.  Fellenberg  had  enjoyed  the  counsel,  control,  and  example  of 
a  well-educated  father,  who  carefully  trained  him  for  the  duties  of  active 
life.  Pestalozzi  was  early  deprived  of  the  blessings  of  a  father's  influ- 
ence, which  no  other  person  can  well  supply.  In  the  stirring  politics  of 
the  times  in  which  they  lived,  the  two  men  took  opposite  sides  —  Pesta- 
lozzi, sprung  from  the  middle  classes,  and  indignant  at  the  harsh  and 
oppressive  rule  of  the  aristocracv,  was  an  adherent  of  the  reforming 
party,  and  welcomed  the  French  Revolution;  Fellenberg,  by  birth  a 
member  of  the  aristocracy,  was  one  of  the  most  active  in  resisting  the 
French  invasion,  and  had  to  flee  for  his  life.  He  did  not  approve,  li<>\\ 
•ever,  of  the  exclusive  pretensions  of  his  order,  whom  he  advised  to  win 
back  the  alienated  affections  of  the  peasantry  by  showing  a  noble  zeal 
for  the  safety  of  their  country.  The  main  difference  between  the  educa- 
tional views  of  the  two  men  was  this,  Pestalozzi  taught  that  the  object  of 
national  education  should  be  to  develop  the  mental  and  moral  faculties 
of  every  individual  member  of  society,  without  distinction  of  rank. 
This  cultivation  of  the  general  intelligence  of  the  children  of  the  nation, 
he  maintained,  should  be  the  foundation  for  the  special  education  needed 
to  qualify  them  for  any  particular  rank  or  pursuit.  Fellenberg  adopted 
this  principle  in  the  main,  but  held  that  Pestalozzi  carried  it  too  far.  He 
maintained  that  the  general  culture  should  apply  only  to  the  earliest 
period  of  a  child's  education,  which  should  be  limited  in  its  duration  by 
the  capacity  and  circumstances  in  life  of  each  individual;  and  that  this 
preliminary  training  should  be  followed  by  one  chiefly  devoted  to  the 
acquisition  of  such  positive  knowledge  as  would  fit  him  for  the  discharge 
of  his  duties  as  a  member  of  society.  This  principle  of  adapting  the 
education  of  the  pupil  to  the  requirements  of  his  probable  station  and 
occupation  in  after-life  commends  itself  at  once  to  practical  minds  as  a 
sound  and  important  one;  nor  is  it  at  all  at  variance  with  the  Pestalozzian 
principle  of  general  development,  for  the  teaching  of  almost  any  branch 
of  knowledge  may  be  so  conducted  as  to  have  a  highly  educative  influ- 
ence on  the  mind  of  the  learner. 


SUMMARY  AND  ESTIMATE  OP  PESTALOZZIANISM.  507 

Prof.  JAMES  TILLEARD,  one  of  the  teachers  selected  by  Dr.  Kay  and 
Mr.  Tufnell  to  inaugurate  the  Battersea  Training  School,  writes  of 
Pestalozzi  and  Fellenberg  in  "  The  Museum"  (a  Quarterly  Journal  of 
Education),  for  July,  1861,  as  follows: 

Their  experience  led  them  both,  at  an  early  period  of  their  lives,  to  the 
'Conviction  that  the  amelioration  of  society  was  to  be  hoped  for  only  from 
an  improved  and  extended  education  of  all  classes,  particularly  for  the 
poor.  To  the  furtherane«  of  this  object  they  both  resolved  to  devote 
tlit-ir  lives,  and  they  kept  their  resolve.  They  each  founded  and  person- 
ally conducted  educational  institutions  which  they  intended  to  serve  as 
models  for  general  imitation.  They  each  promulgated  their  views  on  the 
-objects  and  methods  of  education.  They  influenced,  and  still  continue 
to  influence  the  education  of  the  whole  world.  They  agreed  in  mai:y  of 
their  opinions  of  educational  methods.  Fellenberg,  indeed,  adopted  many 
principles  directly  from  Pestalozzi,  who  was  his  senior  by  a  quarter  of  a 
century. 

Pestalozzi  taught  that  instead  of  making  the  child  the  passive  recipient 
of  the  ideas  of  others,  as  most  teachers  before  his  time  had  done,*  it  was 
the  duty  of  the  teacher  to  develop  his  faculties  and  form  his  character, 
.so  as  to"  enable  him  to  think  and  act  for  himself.  In  developing  the  fac- 
ulties IV-talo/./i  thought  that  the  order  of  Nature  should  be  followed. 
He  held,  with  Locke,  that  all  our  ideas  originate  in  the  knowledge  de- 
rived through  our  perceptive  faculties,  and  this  cultivation  should  be 
made  the  foundation  of  education.  To  use  his  own  forcible  expression, 
he  turned  the  European  educational  vessel  round  and  put  it  on  a  new 
track.  These,  and  others  of  his  opinions,  were  adopted  by  Fellenberg, 
who  has,  therefore,  not  incorrectly  been  called  his  disciple. 

They  resemble  each  other,  also,  in  possessing,  in  a  high  degree,  the 
qualities  of  enthusiasm,  energy,  perseverance,  and  moral  courage.  They 
-each  had  to  encounter  much  opposition,  and  to  overcome  many  difficul- 
ties: Imt  nothing  could  turn  them  from  their  purpose,  or  abate  the  ardor 
•of  their  zeal.  .  .  . 

The  main  difference  between  the  educational  views  of  Pestalozzi  and 
Fellenberg  waa  this:  Pestalozzi  taught  as  a  fundamental  principle  that 
the  object  of  the  national  education  should  be  to  develop  the  mental  and 
moral  faculties  of  every  individual  member  of  society,  without  distinction 
of  rank.  This  cultivation  of  the  general  intelligence  of  the  pupils,  he 
maintained,  should  be  the  foundation  for  the  special  education  needed  to 
qualify  them  for  any  particular  rank  or  pursuit.  Such  a  view  of  national 
education  was  a  legitimate  corollary  of  his  opinions  as  a  political  reformer. 

Fellenberg  (one  of  the  governing  class  at  that  date,  in  Berne),  with  a 
deirree  of  liberality  and  moral  courage  that  it  is  difficult  now  to  estimate 
justly,  adopted  this  principle  in  the  main.  But  his  practical  mind  saw 
that  it  was  carried  by  Pestalozzi  beyond  the  just  limits  of  its  application 
at  that  date,  in  Switzerland.  He  maintained  that  it  applied  more  particu- 
larly to  the  earliest  period  of  education,  the  duration  of  which  should 
vary  with  the  capacity  and  circumstances  in  the  life  of  the  individual 
pupil ;  and  that  this  period  should  be  followed  by  one  chiefly  devoted  to 
the  acquisition  of  such  positive  knowledge  as  would  fit  him  for  the  dis- 
charge of  his  duties  as  a  member  of  society.  This  principle  of  adapting 
the  education  of  the  pupil  to  the  requirements  of  his  probable  station  and 
occupation  in  after  life  commends  itself  at  once  to  practical  minds  as 
sound  and  important;  nor  is  it  at  all  at  variance  with  the  Pestalozzian 
principle  of  general  development. 

*  The  majority  (before  Pestalozzi)  only  attempted  to  pour  into  the  mind  a  vast  amount 
of  knowledge  of  every  kind,  and  thought  an  intelligent  man  must  be  the  result.  Learned 
fools,  rather  —  with  mind  nciihi-r  for  the  present  or  the  future;  who  like  finite  beings,  in 
another  sense,  are  continuously  created,  but  never  able  to  create;  heirs  of  all  ideas,  but 
originators  of  none;  they  are  indeed  samples  of  their  education,  but  no  proofs  of  its  ex- 
cellence.— Kichter's  Lemnn,  Bug.  ed.,  p.  41G. 


508  SUMMARY  AND  ESTIMATE  OF  PESTALOZZIANISM. 

JOHN  GILL,  Professor  of  Education  in  the  Normal  School  at 
Cheltenham,  in  his  Systems  of  Education  advocated  by  Eminent  Edu- 
cationists (Longman,  1876),  gives  the  following  summary  of  the- 
Principles  and  Methods  of  Pestalozzi  as  interpreted  by  Rev. 
Charles  Mayo  in  a  lecture  before  the  Royal  Institution  in  1826, 
and  applied  by  him  in  his  Pestalozzian  School  at  Cheam: 

The  basis  of  all  sound  knowledge  is  the  accurate  observation  of  things 
acting  on  the  outward  senses.  Unless  physical  conceptions  be  formed 
with  distinctness,  our  abstractions  will  be  vague,  and  our  judgments  and 
reasoning  unstable.  The  first  object  then  in  education  must  be  to  lead  a 
child  to  observe  with  accuracy;  the  second,  to  express  with  correctness 
the  result  of  his  observation.  The  practice  of  embodying  in  language 
the  conceptions  we  form  gives  permanence  to  the  impressions;  and 'the 
habit  of  expressing  ourselves  with  the  utmost  precision  of  which  we  are 
capable,  mainly  assists  the  faculty  of  thinking  with  accuracy  and  remem- 
bering with  fidelity. 

This  being  the  leading  idea  of  his  method,  the  following  are  the  prin- 
ciples by  which  it  should  be  pursued. 

Education  should  be  essentially  religious.  Its  end  and  aim  should  be 
to  lead  a  creature,  born  for  immortality,  to  that  conformity  to  the  image 
of  God  in  which  the  glory  and  happiness  of  immortality  consists.  In 
pursuing  this  end,  the  instructor  must  regard  himself  as  standing  in 
God's  stead  to  the  child ;  and  as  by  the  revelation  of  God's  love  is  the 
spiritual  transformation  of  man  accomplished,  so  must  the  earthly  teacher 
build  all  his  moral  agencies  on  the  manifestation  of  his  own  love  towards 
the  pupil.  Then,  as  "we  love  God  because  He  first  loved  us,"  so  will 
the  affections  of  the  pupil  be  awakened  towards  his  instructor,  wrhen  lie- 
feels  himself  the  object  of  that  instructor's  regard.  Again,  as  love  to 
God  generates  conformity  to  His  will,  so  will  obedience  to  the  instructor 
be  the  consequence  of  awakened  affection. 

Education  should  be  essentially  moral.  The  principles  and  standard 
of  its  morality  should  be  derived  from  the  precepts  of  the  gospel,  as. 
*llustrated  by  the  example  of  the  Redeemer.  Moral  instruction,  to  be 
availing,  must  be  the  purified  and  elevated  expression  of  moral  life 
actually  pervading  the  scene  of  education.  In  carrying  on  the  business 
of  the  school-room,  or  in  watching  over  the  diversions  of  the  playground, 
the  motives  and  restraints  of  the  purest  morality,  and  those  only,  must 
be  employed.  Moral  diseases  are  not  to  be  counteracted  by  moral  poi- 
sons; nor  is  intellectual  attainment  to  be  furthered  at  the  expense  of 
moral  good. 

Education  should  be  essentially  organic.  A  stone  increases  in  size  by 
the  mechanical  deposition  of  matter  on  its  external  surface;  a  plant,  on 
the  other  hand,  grows  by  continual  expansion  of  those  organs  which  lie 
folded  up  in  its  germ.  Elementary  education,  as  ordinarily  carried  on, 
is  a  mechanical  inculcation  of  knowledge:  in  the  Pestalozzian  system  it 
is  an  organic  development  of  the  human  faculties,  moral,  intellectual, 
and  physical.  Moral  education  does  not  consist  in  preventing  immoral 
actions  in  the  pupil,  but  in  cultivating  dispositions,  forming  principles, 
and  establishing  habits.  Nor  does  intellectual  education  attain  its  end 
by  the  mere  communication  of  intellectual  truths,  but  rather  in  the 
development  of  those  faculties  by  which  truth  is  recognized  and  discov- 
ered. And,  lastly,  physical  education,  instead  of  confining  itself  to 
instruction  in  particular  arts,  must  be  directed  to  the  improvement  of  the 
outward  senses,  and  the  increase  of  activity  and  strength. 

Activity  is  the  great  means  of  development,  for  action  is  the  parent  of 

power.     The  sentiments  of  the  heart,  the  faculties  of  the  mind,  the  powers 

of  the  body,  advance  to  their  maturity  through  a  succession  of  acting  in 

conformity  to  their  nature.      Opportunities  for  the  exercise  of  moral 

50 


SUMMARY  AND  ESTIMATE  OF  PESTALOZZIANISM. 

virtue  should  be  carefully  sought  out,  or,  at  least,  diligently  applied.  To 
cultivate  benevolent  dispositions,  the  pupil  should  be  invited  to  relieve 
the  indigent ;  to  overcome  his  selfishness,  he  should  be  induced  to  share 
or  to  part  with  the  objects  of  his  own  desire.  In  intellectual  culture 
•every  branch  of  instruction  should  be  so  presented  to  the  pupil's  mind,  as 
to  bring  into  the  highest  activity  the  faculties  most  legitimately  employed 
upon  it. 

That  these  may  be  that  action  that  leads  to  development,  there  must 
be  liberty.  It  may  be  possible  by  a  system  of  coercion,  to  produce  a 
negative  exterior  morality,  which  shall  endure  as  long  as  the  circum- 
stances  on  which  it  is  built  remain  in  force ;  but  no  interior  moral  power, 
that  shall  survive  a  change  of  outward  circumstances,  can  be  formed, 
unless  such  moral  liberty  be  enjoyed  as  leaves  to  the  Judgment  room  for 
•  discerning  between  good  and  evil ;  to  the  moral  choice  the  adoption  of 
the  one,  and  the  rejection  of  the  other;  to  the  conscience  the  approval 
and  rewarding  of  right,  the  condemnation  and  punishment  of  wrong. 
Restraint  is  useful  to  check  the  career  of  passion,  to  arrest  the  progress 
and  diffusion  of  moral  mischief,  to  remove  the  incentives  to  evil,  and  to 
restore  to  that  position  in  which  the  moral  principle  may  again  exert  its 
influence.  Still  it  is  only  a  negative,  not  a  positive  means.  All  the  real 
development  of  man,  moral,  intellectual,  and  physical,  arises  from  moral, 
intellectual,  and  physical  liberty. 

This  liberty  must  be  directed  by  an  influence  essentially  parental; 
where  there  is  no  mother  there  can  be  no  child,  is  as  true  morally  as  it  is 
physically.  It  is  the  order  of  providence  that  maternal  affection  and 
maternal  wisdom  should  call  forth  the  dawning  powers  of  childhood; 
and  that  the  wisdom  and  firmness  of  a  father  should  build  up  and  con- 
solidate the  fabric  which  reposes  on  a  mother's  love.  The  Pestalozzian 
instructor  must  combine  the  character  of  each  relation,  but  exhibit  them 
in  different  proportions  according  to  the  age  and  disposition  of  his  pupil. 

The  development  of  the  faculties  should  be  harmonious.  In  some  cases 
the  intellectual,  or  moral,  or  both,  are  sacrificed  to  the  physical;  in  some, 
the  moral,  or  physical,  or  both,  to  the  intellectual.  A  Pestalozzian  edu- 
cator respects  the  rights  of  each.  He  fortifies  the  body  by  gymnastic 
exercises,  while  he  cultivates  the  understanding,  and  trains  the  senti- 
ments. He  endeavors  to  preserve  the  equipoise  in  each,  as  well  as 
between  each  of  the  three  departments,  to  mingle  firmness  with  sweet- 
ness, judgment  with  taste,  activity  with  strength.  His  object  will  be, 
not  to  develop  a  disproportionate  strength  in  one  faculty,  but  to  produce 
that  general  harmony  of  mind  and  character  which  is  the  most  conducive 
to  the  happiness  and  usefulness  of  the  individual. 

Development  should  be  essentially  progressive.  The  sentiments  should 
be  gradually  led  to  take  a  higher  direction  and  a  wider  range.  The 
motives  of  well-doing  must  be  by  degrees  elevated  and  purified  in  their 
character;  the  duty  which  was  discharged  at  first  in  obedience  to  an 
earthly  father  must  be  set  forth  as  the  requirements  of  a  heavenly  one ; 
the  charities  of  life  must  be  exercised  towards  those  in  immediate  con- 
tact ;  by  degrees  an  interest  may  be  cultivated  in  operations  embracing  a 
wider  or  distant  sphere  of  usefulness. 

In  every  branch  of  study,  the  point  de  depart  is  sought  in  the  actual 
experience  of  the  child;  and  from  that  point  where  he  intellectually  is, 
he  is  progressively  led  to  that  point  where  the  instructor  wishes  him  to 
be.  Thus  he  proceeds  from  the  known  to  the  unknown,  by  a  process 
that  connects  the  latter  with  the  former,  and,  instead  of  being  abruptly 
placed  in  contact  with  the  abstract  elements  of  a  science,  he  is  led  by  a 
sourse  of  analytical  investigations  of  the  knowledge  actually  possessed, 
to  form  for  himself  those  intellectual  abstractions  which  are  in  general 
presented  as  the  primary  truths. 

These  principles  are  recognized  in  the  Aims  and  Methods  of  the 
Normal  and  Model  Schools  of  the  Home  and  Colonial  Infant 
School  Society  established  in  1836. 


510  SUMMARY  AND  ESTIMATE  OF  PESTALOZZIANISM. 

DR.  BIBER,  who  had  the  best  opportunity  to  form  an  intelligent  opin- 
ion of  Pestalozzi's  personal  character,  and  influence  on  assistants  and  pu- 
pils, in  his  "  Life  of  Pestalozzi,"  in  1831,  remarks: 

At  the  opening  of  his  school  at  Stantz  he  had  no  plan  of  lessons,  no- 
method,  no  school  book,  except  one,  and  even  this  he  scarcely  used  at  all. 
Nor  did  he  attempt  to  form  a  plan,  to  sketch  out  a  method,  or  to  compose 
a  book.  The  only  object  of  his  attention  was  to  find  out  at  each  mo- 
ment what  instruction  his  children  stood  peculiarly  in  need  of,  and  what 
was  the  best  manner  of  connecting  it  with  the  knowledge  they  already 
possessed,  or  deducing  it  from  the  observations  which  they  had  an  op- 
portunity of  making  within  the  sphere  of  their  daily  iffe.  Nothing 
could  be  more  unsystematic  than  his  proceeding;  the  meanest  school- 
master would  have  thought  it  beneath  him  to  assist  in  the  management  of 
a  school  which  was  kept  together,  as  it  were,  on  the  spur  of  the  moment. 
But  though  there  was  in  it  little  or  no  method,  the  children  felt  attracted, 
interested,  stimulated.  They  had  no  tasks  to  get,  but  they  had  always 
something  to  investigate  or  to  think  about ;  they  gained  little  positive 
knowledge,  but  they  gained  daily  in  the  love  of  knowledge  and  in  the 
power  of  acquiring  it;  they  might  have  been  at  a  loss  if  called  upon  to 
quote  texts  in  support  of  any  particular  doctrine  of  Christianity,  but  in 
the  practice  of  its  virtues  they  were  perpetually  exercised.  The  whole 
tendency  of  Pestalozzi's  instruction  was  not  to  initiate  his  children  into 
the  use  of  those  phrases  which  form  the  currency  of  the  scientific,  liter- 
ary, political,  and  religious  world,  nor  to  habituate  them  to  any  sort  of 
routine  for  the  future  purposes  of  business,  but  to  raise  their  state  intel- 
lectually and  morally,  by  a  treatment  conformable  to  the  laws  of  God  in 
human  nature.  To  discover  this  law,  and  to  learn  by  experience  the 
bearing  which  it  had  upon  the  development  of  the  child,  was  the  great 
object  of  his  present  exertions,  he  had  thrown  off  the  fetters  by  which 
human  society  generally  disqualifies  man  for  the  higher  freedom  in  which 
God  would  lead  him  on ;  whenever  he  saw  a  landmark  of  truth  he  steered 
his  course  towards  it,  and  the  result  was  that  when  the  events  of  the  war 
had  banished  him  from  Stantz,  before  the  expiration  of  a  twelve  month, 
he  left  it  with  a  distinct  view  of  the  nature  of  his  task,  and  with  a  thou- 
sand floating  ideas  of  the  means  by  which  it  might  best  be  accomplished. 

Of  the  Institution  at  Yverdun  in  its  earliest  days,  before  dissension 
had  broken  out  among  his  assistants,  Dr.  Biber  writes : 

Never,  perhaps,  has  the  idea  of  domestic  life,  in  the  highest  sense  of 
the  word,  been  more  beautifully  realized;  never  the  effect  of  a  family 
spirit  been  more  fully  illustrated,  than  it  was  in  the  flourishing  times  o'f 
the  establishment  at  Yverdun,  in  which  persons  of  all  ages,  of  all  ranks, 
of  all  nations,  persons  of  the  most  different  gifts  and  abilities,  and  of  the 
most  opposite  characters,  were  united  together  by  that  unaffected  love 
which  Pestalozzi,  in  years  a  man  verging  to  the  grave,  but  in  heart  and 
mind  a  genuine  child,  seemed  to  breathe  out  continually,  and  to  impart 
to  all  that  came  within  his  circle.  His  children  forgot  that  they  had  any 
other  home;  his  teachers,  that  there  was  any  world  beside  the  Institution. 
Even  the  oldest  members  of  this  great  family,  men  who  had  attained  all 
the  maturity  of  manhood,  venerated  Pestalozzi  with  all  the  reverence  of 
true  filial  affection,  and  cherished  towards  each  other,  and  toward  the 
younger  teachers  and  pupils,  a  genuine  brotherly  feeling,  such  as  has, 
perhaps,  never  existed  on  earth  since  the  days  of  the  pristine  Christian 
Church.  There  was  no  man  that  claimed  any  privileges  for  himself,  none 
that  sought  anything  apart  from  the  others.  All  the  goods  of  the  earth, 
and  all  the  gifts  of  immortality,  by  whomsoever  they  might  be  possessed, 
were  enjoyed  in  common  by  all;  every  individual,  with  all  that  he  had, 
and  all  that  he  could  command,  devoted  himself  to  the  happiness  and  the 
improvement  of  all.  There  were  not  times  and  places  set  apart  for  duty, 
and  times  and  places  left  without  duty;  in  every  place,  and  in  every  mo- 
ment, there  was  a  claim  of  duty  upon  the  conscience  of  every  individual; 
the  discharge  of  that  duty  was  not  a  toilsome  drudgery,  but  a  true  delight. 


SUMMARY  AND  ESTIMATE  OF  PESTALOZZIANISM.  -lit 

GABRIEL  COMPAYRE,  born  in  1843,  a  pupil  of  the  Lycee  Louis 
le  Grand,  and  holding  a  diploma  of  graduation  from  the  Superior 
Normal  School  at  Paris  in  1865,  and  Professor  of  Pedagogy  in 
the  Normal  School  of  Fontenay-aux- Roses,  in  his  History  of  Edu- 
cation in  France  since  the  IQth  Century  (Paris,  1879,  2  vols.),.thus 
characterizes  Pestalozzi  : 

It  is  not  for  us  here  to  describe  in  detail  the  attractive  characteristics  of 
that  grand  teacher,  the  Rollin  of  primary  education,  who  might  well  be 
proud  to  say,  what  he  often  repeated  so  simply,  "I  am  only  a  school 
master."  During  twenty-four  years  of  his  long  and  arduous  life  he  was> 
in  turn,  director  of  Elementary  Schools,  chief  of  an  agricultural  and 
charitable  institution,  the  organizer  of  a  college  for  special  and  applied 
education,  the  author  of  educational  romances  such  as  "Leonard  and 
Gertrude,"  at  Neuhof,  at  Stanz,  at  Berthoud,  and  at  Yverdun  ;  and 
through  all  this  period  and  in  all  these  relations  Pestalozzi  never  ceased  to. 
love  the  children  and  to  work  for  them.  War  and  the  want  of  the  good 
wishes  and  sympathy  of  his  countrymen  well  nigh  destroyed  his  schools, 
but  he  rebuilt  them  at  a  greater  distance,  and  never  despaired  ;  always 
ready  to  listen  to  new  theories,  always  picking  up  orphans  and  vagabonds 
like  an  abductor  of  children  on  a  new  plan  ;  forgetting  that  he  was  poor 
when  he  would  beicharitable  and  that  he  was  ill  when  he  must  teach. ;  in 
fine,  pursuing  with  an  indomitable  energy  that  overcame  all  obstacles  to- 
his  apostleship  of  pedagogy.  "Success  or  death  ! "  he  cried ;  "  my  zeal  to* 
accomplish  the  dream  of  my  life  would  take  me  through  fire  and  water, 
even  to  the  highest  peak  of  the  Alps." 

Compayre  closes  his  interesting  chapter  on  Pestalozzi,  in  his. 
History  of  Pedagogy,  translated  by  Prof.  Payne  [Boston,  Heath  & 
Co.,  1886],  with  the  following  remarks  of  his  own  and  citations 
from  Morf,  Pestalozzi's  latest  biographer,  and  Yulliemen,  a  bright 
pupil  of  his  at  Yverdun. 

The  teaching  of  Pestalozzi  was  in  reality  a  long  groping  in  unexplored 
ways  —  a  ceaseless  search  after  the  best  methods.  Following  his  pedagogic 
instinct,  his  loving  desire  to  please  and  develop  the  child's  mind,  and  avail- 
ing himself  of  the  immediate  practical  skill  of  such  assistants  as  were  at  his 
command  (most  of  them  young,  and  pupil-teachers  who  had  come  to  study 
his  system),  he  never  worked  out  his  own  theories  to  complete  satisfac- 
tion or  clearly  formulated  them  in  manuals  for  the  guidance  of  others. 
He  made  many  important  innovations  on  the  old  routine  of  school  work, 
and  set  many  logical  minds  in  the  right  track  of  psychological  inquiry, 
and  through  them  settled  definitely  the  aims  and  processes  of  elementary 
instruction  in  all  countries,  and  primarily  in  Germany,  and  particularly 
in  Prussia  and  Wurtemberg. 

Vulliemen  thus  summarizes  the  essential  principles  and  processes  of 
Pestalozzi  as  applied  by  himself  at  Yverdun :  — 

Instruction  was  addressed  to  the  intelligence  rather  than  to  the  memory. 
"Attempt,  said  Pestalozzi  to  his  colleagues,  to  develop  the  child,  and  not 
to  train  him  as  one  trains  a  dog." 

Language  was  taught  us  by  the  aid  of  intuition;  we  learned  to  see 
correctly,  and  through  this  very  process  to  form  for  ourselves  a  correct 
idea  of  the  relations  of  things.  What  we  had  conceived  clearly  we  had 
no  difficulty  in  expressing  clearly. 

The  first   elements  of  geography  were  taught  us  on  the  spot.  .  .  * 


512  PESTALOZZIA^lS.M   IX   FRANCE.- COMPAYItfi. 

Then  we  reproduced  in  relief  with  clay  the  valley  of  which  we  had  just 
made  a  study. 

We  were  made  to  invent  geometry  by  having  marked  out  for  us  the 
end  to  reach,  and  by  being  put  on  the  route.  The  same  course  was 
followed  in  arithmetic;  our  computations  were  made  in  the  head  and 
viva  wee,  without  the  aid  of  paper. 

There  was  neither  book  nor  copy-book  in  the  schools  of  Berthoud. 

The  children  had  nothing  to  learn  by  heart.  They  had  to  repeat  all  at 
once  and  in  accord  the  instructions  of  the  master.  Each  lesson  lasted 
but  an  hour,  and  was  followed  by  a  short  interval  devoted  to  recreation. 

Manual  labor,  making  paper  boxes,  working  in  the  garden,  gymnastics, 
were  associated  with  mental  labor.  The  last  hour  of  each  day  was 
devoted  to  optional  labor.  The  pupils  said,  "We  are  working  for 
ourselves."  A  few  hours  a  week  were  devoted  to  military  exercises. 

Pestalozzi  in  his  first  letter  to  Gessner  adopts  Fischer's  formula  as 
expressing  the  five  essential  principles  his  own  system :  — 

1.  To  give  the  mind  an  intensive  culture,  and  not  simply  extensive: 
to  form  the  mind,  and  not  to  content  one's  self  with  furnishing  it; 

2.  To  connect  all  instruction  with  the  study  of  language; 

3.  To  furnish  the  mind  for  all  its  operations  with  fundamental  data, 
mother  ideas ; 

4.  To  simplify  the  mechanism  of  instruction  and  study; 

5.  To  popularize  science. 

Morf,  the  latest  biographer  of  Pestalozzi,  condenses  into  a  few 
maxims  the  pedagogy  of  the  great  master :  — 

1.  Intuition  is  the  basis  of  instruction; 

2.  Language  ought  to  be  associated  with  intuition; 

3.  The  time  to  learn  is  not  that  of  judging  and  of  criticizing; 

4.  In  each  branch,  instruction  ought  to  begin  with  the  simplest  ele- 
ments, and  to  progress  by  degrees  while  following  the  development  of  the 
child,  that  is  to  say,  through  a  series  of  steps  psychologically  connected ; 

5.  We  should  dwell  long  enough  on  each  part  of  the  instruction  for 
the  pupil  to  gain  a  complete  mastery  of  it; 

6.  Instruction  ought  to  follow  the  order  of  natural  development,  and 
not  that  of  synthetic  exposition ; 

7.  The  individuality  of  the  child  is  sacred; 

8.  The  principal  end  of  elementary  instruction  is  not  to  cause  the 
'Child  to  acquire  knowledge  and  talents,  but  to  develop  and  increase  the 
forces  of  his  intelligence ; 

9.  To  wisdom  there  must  be  joined  power;  to  theoretical  knowledge, 
practical  skill ; 

10.  The  relations  between  master  and  pupil  ought  to  be  based  on  love ; 

11.  Instruction  proper  ought  to  be  made  subordinate  to  the  higher 
purpose  of  education. 

The  processes  of  the  teacher  are  as  follows :  — 

The  child  should  know  how  to  speak  before  learning  to  read. 

For  reading,  use  should  be  made  of  movable  letters  glued  on  paste- 
board. Before  writing,  the  pupil  should  draw.  The  first  exercises  in 
writing  should  be  upon  slates. 

In  the  study  of  language,  the  evolution  of  nature  should  be  followed, 
first  studying  nouns,  then  qualificatives,  and  finally  prepositions. 

The  elements  of  computation  shall  be  taught  by  the  aid  of  material 
objects  taken  as  units,  or  at  least  by  means  of  strokes  drawn  on  a  board. 
Oral  computation  shall  be  the  most  employed. 

The  pupil  ought,  in  order  to  form  an  accurate  and  exact  idea  of  num- 
bers, to  conceive  them  always  as  a  collection  of  strokes  or  of  concrete 
things,  and  not  as  abstract  figures.  A  small  table  divided  into  squares  in 
which  points  are  represented,  serves  to  teach  addition,  subtraction,  etc. 


PESTALOZZI,  ROUSSEAU,  AND  FR(EBEL  IN  FRANCE.  51'? 

The  great  superiority  of  Pestalozzi  over  Rousseau  is  that  he  worked 
for  the  people,  that  he  applied  to  a  great  number  of  children  the  princi- 
ples which  Rousseau  embodied  only  in  an  individual  and  privileged  edu- 
cation. Enaile  after  all  is  an  aristocrat.  He  is  rich  and  of  good  ances-^^X" 
try;  and  is  endowed  with  all  the  gifts  of  nature  and  fortune.  Real  pupils 
do  not  offer,  in  general,  to  the  action  of  teachers,  material  as  docile  and 
complaisant.  Pestalozzi  had  to  do  only  with  children  of  the  common 
people,  who  have  everything  to  learn  at  school,  because  they  have  1'ound 
at  home,  with  busy  or  careless  parents,  neither  encouragement  nor  exam 
pie, —  because  their  early  years  have  been  only  a  long  intellectual  slumber. 
For  these  benumbed  natures,  many  exercises  are  necessary,  which  would 
properly  be  regarded  as  useless  if  it  were  a  question  of  instructing  child- 
ren of  another  condition.  .  .  The  real  organizer  of  the  education  of 
childhood  and  of  the  people,  Pestalozzi  has  a  right  to  the  plaudits  of  all 
those  who  are  interested  in  the  future  of  the  masses  of  mankind. 

Whatever  degree  of  approval  we  extend  to  the  fundamental  doctrine 
and  processes  of  the  Kindergarten  and  the  Infant  School,  may  be  justly       J 
claimed  for  Pestalozzi   who  recognized  the  play  spirit,  the  spontaneous     S 
and  pleasurable  activity  of  the  child  as  the  solid  basis  of  human  culture.      v 

Froebel  was  avowedly  a  loving  pupil  and  disciple  of  Pestalozzi,  and       \ 
followed   in   his  own    kindergarten    the   principles  and   spirit  of  the         j 
methods  of  the  Master.      Greard  thus  states  the  needs  of  the  child-aims 
and  processes  of  FrcebePfl  child-culture :  — 

1.     The  taste  for  observation:  — 

"All  the  senses  of  the  child  are  on  the  alert;  all  the  objects  which  his 
sight  or  his  hand  encounters  attract  him,  interest  him,  delight  him." 
"2.     The  need  of  activity,  tin;  taste  for  construction:  — 

"It  is  not  enough  that  we  show  him  objects;  it  is  necessary  that  he 
touch  them,  that  he  handle  them,  that  he  appropriate  them  to  him- 
self. .  .  .  He  takes  delight  in  constructing;  he  is  naturally  a  geometrician 
and  artist." 

3.     Finally,  the  sentiment  of  personality:  — 

"He  wishes  to  have  his  own  place,  his  own  occupation,  his  own 
teacher." 

Now  Frcebel's  method  has  precisely  for  its  object  the  satisfaction  of 
these  different  instincts. 

"  To  place  the  child  before  a  common  table,"  says  Greard,  "but  with 
his  own  chair  and  a  place  that  belongs  to  him,  so  that  he  feels  that  he  is 
the  owner  of  his  little  domain;  to  excite  at  the  very  beginning  his  good 
will  by  the  promise  of  an  interesting  game;  to  develop  in  succession 
under  his  very  eyes  the  marvels  of  the  five  gifts;  to  tench  him  in  the 
first  place  from  concrete  objects  exposed  to  his  sight,  balls  of  colored 
worsted  and  geometrical  solids,  to  distinguish  color,  form,  material,  the 
different  parts  of  a  body, -so  as  to  accustom  him  to  see,  that  is.  to  seize 
the  aspects,  the  figures,  the  resemblances,  the  differences,  the  relations  of 
things;  then  to  place  the  objects  in  his  hands,  and  to  teach  him  to  make 
with  the  balls  of  colored  worsted  combinations  of  colors  agreeable  to  the 
eye,  to  arrange,  with  matches  united  by  balls  of  cork,  squares,  angles, 
triangles  of  all  sorts,  to  set  up  little  cubes  in  the  form  of  crosses,  pyra- 
mids, etc.;  —  then  either  by  means  of  strips  of  colored  paper  placed  in 
different  directions,  interlaced  into  one  another,  braided  as  a  weaver 
would  make  a  fabric,  or  with  the  crayon  to  drill  him  in  reproducing,  in 
creating,  designs  representing  all  the  geometrical  forms,  so  that  to  the 
habit  of  observation  is  gradually  joined  that  of  invention;  finally,  while 
his  hand  is  busy  in  concert  with  his  intelligence,  and  while  his  need  of 
activity  is  satisfied,  to  take  advantage  of  this  awakened  and  satisfied 
attention  to  fix  in  his  mind  by  appropriate  questions  some  notions  of  the 
properties  and  uses  of  forms,  by  relating  them  to  some  great  principle  of 
general  order,  simple  and  fruitful,  to  mingle  the  practical  lesson  with 
moral  observations,  drawn  in  particular  from  the  incidents  of  the  school 
—  this,  in  its  natural  progress  and  its  normal  development  is  the  method 
of  Froebel." 


PESTALOZZI 


SELECTIONS  FROM  THE  PUBLICATIONS  OF  PESTALOZZI. 

[Translated  or  Revised  for  the  American  Journal  of  Education.] 


THE  choice  of  selections  from  the  works  of  Pestalozzi  is  rendered  diffi- 
cult by  the  character  of  the  mind  that  produced  them.  Taken  as  a  whole, 
they  display  remarkable  powers  of  observation,  considerable  insight  into 
the  operations  of  the  mind  and  feelings,  great  appreciation  of  character, 
and  a  graphic  and  forcible  style.  But  to  select  from  their  whole  extent 
portions  which  shall  give  a  connected  view  of  his  principles,  is  almost  im- 
possible, from  the  fact  that  his  mind  was  strongly  intuitional  in  tendency 
and  habit,  and  rapid  and  impulsive  in  action,  and  that  his  powers  of  re- 
flection, combination,  and  logical  expression  were  not  correspondingly 
great.  Thus  he  often  said  too  much  or  too  little ;  was  contradictory  or 
inconsistent ;  and  has  nowhere,  even  where  expressly  undertaking  to  do- 
it, as  in  " How  Gertrude  Teaches  Her  Children"  given  an  adequate 
presentation  of  his  principles  or  practice. 

"Leonard  and  Gertrude"  is  presented  as  the  book  which,  more  than 
any  other  one  work,  was  the  foundation  of  Pestalozzi's  fame,  and  as  in. 
itself  to  the  present  generation  a  new  and  interesting  picture  of  life  in 
the  German  Swiss  villages  of  the  last  half  of  the  last  century.  It 
has  also  additional  value  as  containing  many  of  the  author's  views 
on  educational  and  social  questions,  although  diffused  throughout 
the  work. 

A  brief  extract  from  " Christopher  and  Alice"  is  given,  sufficient  to 
exhibit  the  mode  of  treatment  of  the  subject.  The  work  was  compara- 
tively a  failure,  and  has  moreover  little  interest  to  readers  in  this  country 
and  this  age,  being  closely  and  exclusively  local  in  aim. 

"  The  Evening  Hour  of  a  Hermit"  is  termed  by  Karl  von  Raumer 
"  the  key  of  Pestalozzi's  educational  views."  And  Pestalozzi  himself 
observed,  in  his  old  age,  that  even  at  the  early  date  of  its  composition, 
he  had  already  arrived  at  the  fundamental  principles  which  controlled  the 
labors  and  expositions  of  all  his  subsequent  life. 

The  various  addresses  from  which  extracts  are  next  given  are  interest- 
ing as  affording  a  view  of  one  mode  of  communication  between  Pesta- 
lozzi and  his  associates.  They  are  doubtless  freer  and  more  spontaneous 
expressions  of  his  peculiar  modes  of  thought  and  feeling  than  his  more 
formal  expositions. 

"Sow  Gertrude  Teaches  Her  Children"  was  intended  by  Pestalozzi 
to  give  a  logical  and  connected  view  of  his  methods  of  instruction,  in, 


PREFACE. 

some  detail  The  extracts  presented  embody  the  most  important 
portion  of  the  work,  and  exhibit  also  some  of  his  characteristic  defects 
in  arrangement  and  exposition. 

The  extracts  from  the  "Paternal  Instructions  "  are  valuable  as  a  speci- 
men of  a  mode  of  combining  instruction  in  language  with  sound  lessons 
in  morals  ;  upon  a  principle  which  Pestalozzi  carried  very  far  in  theory, 
and  to  a  great  extent  in  practice ;  namely,  that  of  teaching  through  one 
and  the  same  vehicle,  if  possible,  in  the  departments  both  of  intellect  and 
morals. 

The  London  translation  of  "Leonard  and  Gertrude"  with  corrections, 
has  been  followed  in  that  work,  except  in  the  extracts  added  from  the 
subsequently  written  part  of  the  book.  The  liberty  has  been  taken  of 
extracting  from  Dr.  Biber's  valuable  biography  of  Pestalozzi,  his  transla- 
tion from  "Christopher  and  Alice"  and  from  the  "Paternal  Instructions" 
The  "Evening  Hour  of  a  Hermit"  the  extracts  from  the  second  part  of 
"Leonard  and  Gertrude"  and  from  "How  Gertrude  Teaches  Her  Children" 
and  the  several  addresses  of  Pestalozzi,  were  translated  by  FREDERICK  B. 
PERKINS,  Esq.,  of  Hartford,  Librarian  of  the  Connecticut  Historical  So- 
ciety ;  and  are  from  Cotta's  edition  of  Pestalozzi's  works,  Yon  Raumer's 
"History  of  Education,"  or  Christoffel's  "Life  and  Views." 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE 


CONTENTS. 


PACK. 

CHAPTER  I. — A  kfnd-heaited  man,  who 
yet  makes  his  wife  and  children  very  un- 
happy,   9 

CHAPTKR  n. — A  woman  who  forms  a  reso- 
lution, net-  up  to  it,  and  finds  a  lord  of  the 
manor,  who  has  the  heirt  of  a  father  to- 
ward his  dependents, 11 

CHAPTKR  in. — A  brute  appears, 13 

CHAPTER  iv.— He  is  with  his  own  set,  and  it 

is  there  that  rogues  show  themselves, 15 

CHAPTER  v. — He  finds  his  master, 16 

CHAPTER  vi. — Conversation  amongst  coun- 
try people, 19 

CHAPTKR  vn. — The  bailiff  begins  some  bai- 
liff's business 23 

CHAPTKR  VIH. — When  the  wheels  are  greased 

the  wagon  goes, 24 

CHAPTKR  ix.— On  the  righu  of  the  country,  25 
CHAPTER  x. — The   barber's   dog  drinks  up 
wnter  at  an   unlucky  moment,  and  plays 

the  bailiff  a  sad  trick 26 

CHAPTKR  xi. — Well-laid  plots  of  a  rogue,. .  28 

CHAPTER  xit. — Domestic  happiness, 3() 

CHAPTER  XHI. — A  proof  that  Gertrude  was 

dear  to  her  husband 32 

CHAPTER  xiv.— Mean  selfishness, 36 

CHAPTER  xv. — The  wise  goose  lays  an  egg; 
or,  a  blunder  which  costs  a  glass  of  wine,.  37 

CHAPTER  xvi.— The  death-bed 38 

CHAPTER  xvn. — The  sick  woman's  behavior  40 
CHAPTER  xvm. — A  poor  boy  aaks  pardon 
for  having  stolen    potatoes,  and  the  sick 

women  dies, 43 

CHAPTER  xix. — Good  spirits  comfort,  cheer, 
and  support  a  man,  but  anxiety  is  a  con- 
tinual torment, 45 

CHAPTER  xx. — Foolish   gossiping  leads   to 

idleness, 46 

CHAPTER  xxi. — Ingratitude  and  envy, 46 

CHAPTER  xxn. — Remorse    for   perjury  can 

not  be  allayed  by  crafty  arts, 47 

CHAPTER  xxni. — A  hypocrite,  and  a  suffer- 
ing woman, 49 

CHAPTER  xxiv. — An  honest,  joyful,  thank- 
ful heart 51 

CHAPTER  xxv. — How  rogues  talk  to  each 
other,..  ..  51 


PAOB, 

CHAPTER  xxvi. — Pride,  in  poverty  and  dis- 
tress, leads  to  the  most  unnatural  and  horri- 
ble deeds 52 

CHAPTER  xxvu. — Activity  and  industry, 
without  a  kind  and  grateful  heart, 54 

CHAPTER  XXVIH. — A  Saturday  evening  in 
the  house  of  a  bailiff,  who  is  a  land- 
lord,   55 

CHAPTER  xxix.— Continuation  of  the  con- 
versation of  rogues  with  each  other, 57 

CHAPTER  xxx. — Continuation  of  the  con- 
versation of  rogues  with  each  other,  in  a 
different  style 60 

CHAPTER  xxxi. — The  even  ing  before  a  Sab- 
bath in  the  house  of  a  good  mother, 62 

CHAPTER  xxxn. — The  happiness  of  the  hour 
of  prayer, 63 

CHAPTER  xxxui. — The  seriousness  of  the 
hour  of  prayer, 64 

CHAPTER  xxxiv. — A  mother's  instruction,.  65 

CHAPTER  xxxv. — A  Saturday  even  ing  pray- 


CHAPTER  xxxvi. — Pure  devotion  and  lift- 
ing up  of  the  soul  to  God, 67 

CHAPTER  xxxvu. — Kindness  toward  a  poor 
man,..  ..  69 


CHAPTER  xxxvm. — The  pure  and  peaceful 
greatness  of  a  benevolent  heart,.  73 

CHAPTKR  xxxix. — A  sermon 74 

CHAPTER  XL. — A  proof  that  the  sermon  was 
good ;  It,  in.  on  knowledge  and  error,  and 
what  is  called  oppressing  the  poor, 77 

CHAPTER  XLI. — A  church-warden  informs 
the  pastor  of  improper  conduct, 81 

CHAPTER  XLII. — An  addition  to  the  morn- 
ing's discourse, 82 

CHAPTER  XLIII.— The  countrymen  in  the 
tavern  are  disturbed, 82 

CHAPTER  XLIV. — Description  of  a  wicked 
man's  feelings  during  the  sacrament, 83 

CHAPTER  XLV. — The  bailiff's  wife  tells  her 
husband  some  weighty  truths,  hut  many 
years  too  Inte, 84 

CHAPTER  XLVI.— Soliloquy  of  a  man  whose 
thoughts  unhappily  lead  him  too  far, 85 

CHAPTER  XLVII.—  Domesticjinppinesson  the 
Sabbath  da v 86 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 


PAGE. 

CHAPTER  XLVIII. — Some  observations  upon 
sin, 88 

CHAPTER  XLIX. — The  character  and  educa- 
tion of  children, 88 

CHAPTER  L. — Conceit  and  bad  habits  inter- 
fere with  our  happiness,  even  when  we  are 
doing  a  kind  action, 91 

CHAPTER  LI. — No  man  can  tell  what  happy 
consequences  may  result  from  even  the 
most  trifling  good  action, 92 

CHAPTER  LII. — Early  in  the  morning  is  too    * 
late  for  what  ought  to  be  done  the  evening 
before, 93 

CHAPTER  LIII. — The  more  culpable  a  man 
is  himself,  the  more  violently  does  he  abuse 
another  who  has  done  wrong 93 

CHAPTER  LIV. — Useless  labor  for  poor  peo- 


pie, 


CHAPTER  LV. — A  hypocrite  makes  friends 
with  a  rogue, 94 

CHAPTER  LVI.— It  is  decided  that  the  bailiff 
must  no  longer  be  a  landlord, 96 

CHAPTER  LVII. — His  conduct  upon  the  oc- 
casion,    96 

CHAPTER  LVIII. — His  companion, 97 

CHAPTER  LIX. — Explanation  of  a  difficulty,     97 

CHAPTER  LX. — A  digression, 98 

CHAPTER  LXI. — An  old  man  lays  open  his 
heart 98 

CHAPTER  LXII. — The  horrors  of  an  uneasy 
conscience, 1UO 

CHAPTER  LXIII. — Kindness  and  sympathy 
«ave  a  wretched  man  from  becoming  utter- 
ly distracted, 100 

CHAPTER  LXIV. — A  pastor's  treatment  of  a 
case  of  conscience 100 

CHAPTER  LXV. — There  is  often  a  delicacy 
in  the  poorest  people,  even  when  they  are 
receiving  favors  for  which  they  have 
asked, 102 

CHAPTER  LXVI.— A  forester  who  does  not 
believe  in  ghosts, 103 

CHAPTER  LXVII. — A  man  who  desires  to 
remove  a  landmark,  and  would  willingly 
disbelieve  in  the  existence  of  spirits,  but 
dares  not 104 

CHAPTER  LXVIII. — The  setting  sun,  and  a 
poor,  lost  wretch, 104 

CHAPTER  LXIX. — How  a  man  should  con- 
duct himself,  who  would  prosper  in  the 
management  of  others, 105 

CHAPTER  LXX. — A  man  who  is  a  rogue  and 
thief  behaves  honorably,  and  the  mason's 
wife  shows  her  good  sense, 105 

CHAPTER  LXXI.— The  catastrophe  draws 
r~*r..  ..  107 


PACK 
CHAPTER  LXXII.  —  His   last  hope    forsakes 

the  bailiff,  ............................   108 

CHAPTER  LXXIII.  —  He  sets  about  removing 

the  landmark,  .........................   108 

CHAPTER  LXXIV.—  Night  greatly  deceives 

drunkards   and    rogues,   especially   when 

they  are  in  trouble,  ...................   100- 

CHAPTER  LXXV.  —  The  village  is  in  an  up- 

roar ..................................  109 

CHAPTER  LXXVI.  —  The  pastor  comes  to  the 

tavern,  ...............................  110 

CHAPTER  LXXVII.  —  Care  of  souls  .........   Ill 

CHAPTER  LXXVHI.  —  Two  letters  from  the 

pastor  to  Arner,  ........  .  ..............  114. 

First  letter,  ...........................   114 

Second  letter,  .....................  ____   114 

CHAPTER  LXXIX.  —  The  poulterer's  informa- 

tion, .................................  115 

CHAPTER  LXXX.—  The  squire's  answer  to 

the  pastor,  ............................   116- 

CHAPTER  LXXXI.  —  A  good  cow-man,  .....  117 

CHAPTER  LXXXII.  —  A  coachman  who  loves 

his  master's  son,  .......................  117 

CHAPTER  LXXXIII.  —  The  squire   with   his 

workmen,  ............................   118 

CHAPTER  LXXXIV  —  A  squire  and  a  pastor, 

who  have  equally  kind  hearts,  ..........   118 

CHAPTER   LXXXV.  —  The    squire's    feelings 

toward  his  guilty  bailiff,  ................  119 

CHAPTER  LXXXVI.  —  The  pastor  again  shows 

his  kindness  of  heart  ...................   119 

CHAPTER  LXXXVII.  —  On  a  cheerful  disposi- 

tion, and  on  ghosts,  ....................   120 

CHAPTER  LXXXVIII.  —  On  ghosts,  in  a  differ- 

ent tone,  ..............................  123 

CHAPTER  LXXXIX.  —  A  judgment,  .........   124 

CHAPTER  xc.  —  The  proposal  of  Hartknopf, 

the  church-warden,  ....................   125 

CHAPTER  xci.  —  The  squire's  reply,  .......   126 

CHAPTER  xcii.—  Speech  of  the  poulterer  to 

the  meeting,  ....................  ......   127 

CHAPTER  xcni.—  The  poor  are  gainers  by 

the  comedy,  ..........................   128 

CHAPTER  xciv.  —  The  squire  thanks  the  pas- 


tor 


12» 


CHAPTER  xcv.— The  squire  asks  forgiveness 
from  a  poor  man,  whom  his  grandfather 
had  injured, 130 

CHAPTER  xcvi. — Generosity  of  a  poor  man 
toward  his  enemy, 131 

CHAPTER  xcvii. — His  gratitude  to  the 

..  132 


squire, 


CHAPTER  xcvm.— A   scene  to  touch  the 

heart 132 

CHAPTER  xcix.— A  pleasing  prospect,....   133 
CHAPTER  c.— The  poulterer's  reward,....   133 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 


PREFACE  TO  THE  FIRST  EDITION. 


HEADER — In  the  following  pages  I  have  attempted,  through  the  medium  of  a  tale, 
to  communicate  some  important  truths  to  the  people,  in  the  way  most  likely  to 
make  an  impression  upon  their  understandings  and  their  feelings. 

It  has  also  been  my  endeavor,  to  ground  both  the  tale  and  the  instructions 
derived  from  it,  upon  the  most  careful  imitation  of  nature,  and  upon  the  simple 
description  of  what  is  every  where  to  be  found. 

In  what  is  here  related,  (the  greatest  part  of  which  I  have,  in  the  course  of  an 
active  life,  myself  observed,)  I  have  been  careful  never  to  set  down  my  own  opin- 
ions, instead  of  what  I  have  seen  and  heard  the  people  themselves  feel,  judge,  sayr 
and  attempt. 

If  my  observations  be  just,  and  if  I  have  been  successful  in  my  endeavor  to 
give  them  with  the  simplicity  of  truth,  they  will  be  well  received  by  all  thoser 
before  whose  eyes  the  things  which  I  relate  are  continually  passing.  If  they  be 
false,  if  they  be  the  creatures  of  my  imagination,  the  trifles  of  my  own  brain, 
they  will,  like  other  Sunday  discourses,  be  forgotten  on  the  Monday. 

I  will  say  no  more,  except  to  add  two  passages  which  appear  calculated  to  illus- 
trate my  opinions  as  to  the  means  to  be  adopted  for  a  wise  instruction  of  the 
people. 

The  first  is  from  a  work  of  our  immortal  Luther ;  every  line  of  whose  pen 
breathes  humanity,  insight  into  the  character  of  the  people,  and  a  desire  to  in- 
struct them.  He  says : — 

"  The  holy  scriptures  are  so  graciously  adapted  to  our  wants,  that  they  do  not 
tell  us  merely  of  the  great  deeds  of  holy  men,  but  also  relate  their  common  dis- 
course, and  disclose  to  us  the  inmost  motives  and  principles  of  their  hearts." 

The  second  is  from  the  writings  of  a  Jewish  Eabbi,  and,  according  to  a  Latin 
translation,  is  as  follows : — 

"  There  were  amongst  the  heathen  nations,  who  dwelt  round  about  the  inherit- 
ance of  Abraham,  men  full  of  wisdom,  whose  equals  were  not  to  be  found  far  or 
near.  These  said :  '  Let  us  go  to  the  kings  and  to  their  great  men,  and  teach  them 
how  to  make  the  people  happy  upon  the  earth.' 

"And  the  wise  men  went  out,  and  learned  the  language  of  the  houses  of  the 
kings  and  of  their  great  men,  and  spoke  to  the  kings  and  to  their  great  men,  in 
their  own  language. 

"  And  the  kings  and  the  great  men  praised  the  wise  men,  and  gave  them  gold,, 
and  silk,  and  frankincense ;  but  treated  the  people  as  before.  And  the  wise  men 
were  blinded  by  the  gold,  and  the  silk,  and  the  frankincense,  and  no  longer  saw 
that  the  kings  and  the  great  men  behaved  ill  and  foolishly  to  all  the  people  who 
lived  upon  the  earth. 

"But  a  man  of  our  nation  reproved  the  wise  men  of  the  heathens,  and  waft 
kind  to  the  beggar  upon  the  highway ;  and  took  the  children  of  the  thief,  of  th» 


524  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

what  a  mother's  heart,  almost  without  means  or  help,  can  do  for  her  children.  It 
is  equally  false  to  say  that  mothers  have  no  time  to  attend  to  the  first  formation, 
of  the  minds  and  feelings  of  their  children.  Most  of  them,  particularly  those 
who  live  at  home,  have  their  children  with  them  a  great  part  of  the  day ;  and 
why  can  not  they,  whilst  they  are  at  work,  as  well  behave  to  them,  and  talk  to 
them,  in  a  way  which  will  instruct  and  improve  them,  as  in  one  which  will  do 
neither?  A  mother's  instruction  requires  no  art.  It  is  nothing  but  to  excite  the 
child  to  an  active  observation  of  the  things  which  surround  it.  It  is  nothing  but 
a  regular  exercise  of  the  senses,  of  the  warm  feelings  of  the  heart,  of  the  powers 
of  speech,  and  of  the  natural  activity  of  the  body.  All  that  is  necessary  is  to 
second  the  feelings  of  mothers,  and  their  already  prepared,  and,  as  I  may  say,  in- 
stinctively simple  and  upright  understandings,  and  to  place  in  their  power  the 
necessary  means,  so  prepared  as  they  may  best  use  them. 

Good  mothers !  let  it  not  be  unjustly  said,  any  longer,  that  you  have  not  under- 
standing and  strength  for  what,  in  your  circumstances,  is  your  highest  and  holiest 
duty.  If  you  once  go  so  far  as  to  weep  in  the  stillness  of  your  chambers,  because 
the  good  Gertrude  did  more  for  her  children  than  you  have  hitherto  done  for 
yours,  I  am  sure  you  will  then  try  whether  it  be  not  possible  to  do  what  she  did  -r 
and  it  is  when  you  are  arrived  at  this  point,  that  I  wish  to  offer  you  my  element- 
ary books. 

My  heart  here  bids  me  be  silent;  but  one  word  more !  Whoever  wishes  to  do 
his  duty  to  God,  to  posterity,  to  public  right,  and  public  order,  and  to  the  security 
of  family  happiness,  must,  in  one  way  or  other,  accord  with  the  spirit  of  my 
book,  and  seek  the  same  object.  This  is  my  comfort.  When  these  truths  are 
ripened,  as  ripen  they  must,  they  will  bear  fruit;  when  they  are  become  fitted  for 
the  poor  and  desolate,  they  will  be  enjoyed  by  them.  Many  good  men  and 
women,  who  have  hitherto  been  unable,  notwithstanding  the  best  inclinations,  to 
give  a  good  piece  of  advice  to  a  neighbor,  will  become  the  fathers  and  mothers  of 
the  poor  and  desolate.  It  is  to  this  strength  and  greatness  that  I  seek  to  elevate 
the  minds  and  hearts  of  the  nobles,  and  of  the  people,  of  my  native  country. 
After  my  death,  may  men  of  matured  powers  proceed  in  this  great  object  of  my 
life ;  and,  before  I  close  my  eyes,  may  I  enjoy  the  happiness  of  seeing  both  my 
object  and  the  means  which  I  employ  to  attain  it,  no  longer  misunderstood. 

Alas !  this  misunderstanding  prevents  the  happiness  of  thousands,  who,  but 
for  it,  would  every  where  find  wise  and  powerful  assistance. 

PBSTALOZZJ. 

BURODOBF,  November,  1808. 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 


CHAPTER  r. — A  KIND-HEARTED  MAN,  WHO  YET  MAKES  HIS  WIFE  AND  CHILDREN 

VERY   UNHAPPY. 

THERE  lived  in  Bonual,  a  mason.  He  was  called  Leonard,  and  his  wife,  Ger- 
trude. He  had  seven  children  and  some  property,  but  he  had  this  fault ;  that 
he  often  let  himself  be  tempted  to  the  tavern.  When  he  was  once  seated  there, 
•he  behaved  like  a  madman ; — and  there  are  in  our  village,  cunning,  good-for- 
nothing  rogues,  whose  sole  employment  and  business  it  is,  to  take  in  honest  and 
simple  people,  and  seize  every  opportunity  of  getting  hold  of  their  money. 
These  were  acquainted  with  poor  Leonard,  and  often  led  him  on  from  drinking 
to  gaming,  and  thus  cheated  him  of  the  produce  of  his  labor.  Whenever  this 
•had.  happened  over-night,  Leonard  repented  in  the  morning,  and  it  went  to  his 
heart  when  he  saw  Gertrude  and  his  children  wanting  bread,  so  that  he  trembled, 
wept,  and  cast  down  his  eyes  to  conceal  his  tears. 

Gertrude  was  the  best  wife  in  the  village ;  but  she  and  her  blooming  children 
were  in  danger  of  being  robbed  of  their  father,  and  driven  from  their  home,  and 
•of  sinking  into  the  greatest  misery,  because  Leonard  could  not  let  wine  alone. 

Gertrude  saw  the  approaching  danger,  and  felt  it  most  keenly.  When  she 
.fetched  grass  from  the  meadow,  when  she  took  hay  from  the  loft,  when  she  set 
away  the  milk  in  her  clean  pans,  whatever  she  was  doing,  she  was  tormented 
by  the  thought  that  her  meadow,  her  haystack,  and  her  little  hut,  might  soon  be 
taken  away  from  her ;  and  when  her  children  were  standing  around  her,  or  sit- 
ting in  her  lap,  her  anguish  was  still  greater,  and  the  tears  streamed  down  her 
•cheeks. 

Hitherto,  however,  she  had  been  able  to  conceal  this  silent  weeping  from  her 
children ;  but  on  Wednesday,  before  last  Easter,  when  she  had  waited  long  and 
•her  husband  did  not  come  home,  her  grief  overcame  her,  and  the  children  ob- 
-served  her  tears.  "Oh  mother,"  exclaimed  they  all  with  one  voice,  "you  are 
weeping,"  and  pressed  themselves  closer  to  her.  Sorrow  and  anxiety  were  on 
every  countenance — anxious  sobs,  heavy,  downcast  looks,  and  silent  tears,  sur- 
rounded the  mother,  and  even  the  baby  in  her  arms,  betrayed  a  feeling  of  pain 
hitherto  unknown — his  first  expression  of  care  and  sorrow,  his  staring  eyes 
which,  for  the  first  time,  were  fixed  upon  her  without  a  smile — all  this  quite 
broke  her  heart.  Her  anguish  burst  out  in  a  loud  cry,  and  all  the  children  and 
the  baby  wept  with  their  mother,  and  there  was  a  dreadful  sound  of  lamentation 
just  as  Leonard  opened  the  door. 

Gertrude  lay  with  her  face  on  the  bed;  heard  not  the  opening  of  the  door, 
•and  saw  not  the  entrance  of  the  father ;  neither  did  the  children  perceive  him. 
They  saw  only  their  weeping  mother,  and  hung  on  her  arm  and  round  her  neck, 
*nd  by  her  clothes.  Thus  did  Leonard  find  them. 

God  in  heaven  sees  the  tears  of  the  wretched,  and  puts  a  limit  to  their  grief 
G-ertrude  found  in  her  tears  the  mercy  of  God.  The  mercy  of  God  brought 


526  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

Leonard  to  witness  this  scene,  which  pierced  through  his  soul,  so  that  his  limbs 
trembled.  The  paleness  of  death  was  upon  his  countenance,  and  he  could 
scarcely  articulate,  with  a  hasty  and  broken  voice:  "Lord  Jesus!  what  is  this?" 
Then  the  mother  saw  him  for  the  first  time,  the  children  looked  up,  and  their 
loud  exclamations  of  grief  were  hushed.  "0  mother!  here  is  our  father,"  said 
the  children  all  at  once,  and  even  the  baby  sobbed  no  longer. 

As  a  torrent,  or  a  raging  flame,  did  their  wild  anguish  subside  into  quiet, 
thoughtful  anxiety.  Gertrude  loved  Leonard,  and  in  her  deepest  distress  his 
presence  was  always  a  comfort.  Leonard's  horror  also  was  now  less  overwhelm- 
ing than  at  first. 

"  Tell  me,  Gertrude,"  said  he,  "what  is  this  dreadful  trouble  in  which  I  find 
thee?" 

"0  my  dear,"  answered  Gertrude,  "heavy  cares  press  upon  my  heart,  and 
when  thou  art  away  sorrow  preys  more  keenly  upon  me." 

"  Gertrude,"  said  Leonard,  "I  know  why  thou  weepest,  wretch  that  I  ami'1 

Then  Gertrude  sent  away  the  children,  and  Leonard  hid  his  face  on  her  neck, 
juia  could  not  speak. 

Gertrude  too  was  silent  for  a  few  moments,  and  leaned  sorrowfully  against  her 
husband,  who  wept  and  sobbed  on  her  neck. 

At  last  she  collected  all  her  strength,  and  took  courage  to  urge  him  not  to 
bring  any  further  trouble  and  misery  upon  his  children. 

Gertrude  was  pious,  and  trusted  in  God ;  and  before  she  spoke,  she  prayed 
silently  for  her  husband  and  for  her  children ;  and  her  heart  was  evidently  com- 
forted as  she  said,  "Leonard !  trust  hi  the  mercy  of  God,  and  take  courage  to 
do  nothing  but  what  is  right." 

"0  Gertrude,  Gertrude!"  exclaimed  Leonard,  and  wept,  and  his  tears  fell  in 
torrents. 

"0  my  love!  take  courage  and  trust  in  thy  Father  in  heaven,  and  all  will  be 
better  with  thee.  It  goes  to  my  heart  to  make  thee  weep.  My  love,  I  would 
gladly  keep  every  trouble  from  thee.  Thou  knowest  that,  by  thy  side,  I  could 
be  content  with  bread  and  water,  and  the  still  midnight  is  often  to  me  an  hour 
of  cheerful  labor,  for  thee  and  my  children.  But,  if  I  concealed  my  anxiety  from 
thee,  lest  I  be  separated  from  thee  and  these  dear  little  ones,  I  should  be  no 
mother  to  my  children,  nor  true  to  thee.  Our  children  are  yet  full  of  gratitude 
and  love  toward  us, — but,  my  Leonard,  if  we  do  not  continue  to  act  as  parents, 
their  love  and  tenderness,  to  which  I  trust  so  much,  must  needs  decrease,  and 
think  too  what  thou  wilt  feel,  when  thy  Nicholas  has  no  longer  a  home  of  his 
own,  and  must  go  out  to  service.  He  who  now  talks  with  so  much  delight  of 
freedom  and  his  own  little  flock.  Leonard  I  if  he,  and  all  these  dear  children, 
should  become  poor  through  our  fault,  should  cease  to  thank  us  in  their  hearts, 
and  begin  to  weep  for  us  their  parents — Leonard!  couldst  thou  bear  to  see  thy 
Nicholas,  thy  Jonas,  thy  Liseli,  and  thy  little  Anneli,  driven  out  of  doors  to  seek 
their  bread  at  another's  table  ?  Oh !  it  would  kill  me  to  see  it."  So  spoke  Ger- 
trude, and  the  tears  fell  down  her  cheeks. 

And  Leonard  was  not  less  affected.  "  What  shall  I  do,  miserable  creature 
that  I  am  ?  What  can  I  do  ?  I  am  yet  more  wretched  than  thou  knowest  of— 
0  Gertrude !  Gertrude!"  Then  he  was  again  silent,  wrung  his  hands  and  wept 
in  extreme  misery. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  husband,  do  not  mistrust  God's  mercy !  Whatever  it  be,  speak 
that  we  may  consult  together,  and  comfort  each  other." 


, 

LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  52Y 

OjAPTER   II. — A  WOMAN  WHO   FORMS  A   RESOLUTION,  ACTS   UP   TO  IT,  AND   FINDS- 

A   LORD   OF   THE   MANOR,  WHO   HAS  THE   HEART   OF  A   FATHER  TOWARD 

HIS    DEPENDENTS. 

u  OH  Gertrude,  Gertrude  I  it  breaks  my  heart  to  tell  thee  my  distress  and  add 
to  thy  anxieties ;  and  yet  I  must  do  it.  I  owe  Hummel,  the  bailiff,  thirty  florins ; 
and  he  is  a  hound  to  those  who  are  in  debt  to  him,  and  not  a  man.  I  wish  I 
uad  never  seen  his  face  1  If  I  do  not  go  to  his  house,  he  threatens  me  with  law ; 
and  if  I  do  go,  the  wages  of  my  labor  are  in  his  claws.  This,  Gertrude,  this  is 
the  source  of  our  misfortunes." 

"  My  dear  husband,"  replied  Gertrude,  "  canst  thou  not  go  to  Arner,  the  father 
of  the  country  ?  Thou  knowest  how  all  the  widows  and  orphans  praise  him.  I 
think  he  would  give  thee  counsel  and  protection  against  this  man." 

"  0  Gertrude,"  said  Leonard,  "  I  can  not,  I  dare  not.  What  could  I  say  against 
the  bailiff?  He  would  bring  up  a  thousand  different  things  against  me  1  He  ia 
bold  and  cunning,  and  has  a  hundred  ways  and  means  of  crying  down  a  poor 
man  before  a  magistrate,  so  that  he  may  not  be  heard." 

Gertrude.  Dear  husband,  I  never  yet  spoke  to  a  magistrate,  but  if  necessity 
and  want  carried  me  to  him,  I  am  sure  I  could  speak  the  truth  to  any  man.  0 
do  not  be  afraid ;  think  of  me,  and  of  thy  children,  and  go. 

"Gertrude,"  said  Leonard,  "I  can  not,  I  dare  not.  I  am  not  free  from  fault. 
The  bailiff  will  coolly  take  the  whole  village  to  witness  that  I  am  a  drunkard. 
0  Gertrude,  I  am  not  blameless.  "What  can  I  say?  Nobody  will  stand  up 
against  him  and  say  that  he  enticed  me  to  it  all.  0  Gertrude,  if  I  could,  if  I 
durst,  how  gladly  would  I  go ;  but  if  ventured,  and  did  not  succeed,  think  how 
he  would  revenge  himself." 

Gertrude.  But  even  if  thou  art  silent  he  will  nevertheless  bring  thee  to  ruin, 
without  a  chance  of  escape.  Leonard,  think  of  thy  children,  and  go.  This 
anxiety  of  heart  must  have  an  end.  Go, — or  I  will  go  myself 

Leonard.  Gertrude,  I  dare  not.  If  thou  darest,  for  God's  sake,  go  directly  ta 
Arner,  and  tell  him  all. 

"I  will  go,"  said  Gertrude;  and  she  did  not  sleep  one  hour  that  night;  but 
she  prayed  during  that  sleepless  night,  and  was  more  and  more  resolved  to  go  ta 
Arner,  the  lord  of  the  manor. 

Early  in  the  morning  she  took  her  baby,  which  bloomed  like  a  rose,  and  went 
six  miles,  to  the  hall. 

Arner  was  sitting  under  his  lime-trees,  before  the  door  of  his  house,  as  Ger- 
trude approached ;  he  saw  her,  he  saw  the  baby  in  her  arms,  and  upon  her 
countenance  sorrow  and  suffering,  and  the  traces  of  tears.  "  What  do  you  want 
my  good  woman  ?  Who  are  you  ?"  said  he,  so  kindly  that  she  took  courage  to 
speak, 

"I  am  Gertrude,"  said  she,  "the  wife  of  Leonard,  the  mason  of  Bonnal." 

"You  are  an  excellent  woman,"  said  Arner.  "  I  have  observed  your  children 
more  than  all  the  rest  in  the  village ;  they  are  more  modest  and  better  behaved 
than  any  of  the  others ;  and  they  appear  better  fed.  And  yet  I  hear  you  are 
very  poor.  Tell  me  what  you  wish  for." 

"  0  gracious  sir,  my  husband  has,  for  some  time  past,  owed  Urias  Hummel, 
the  bailiff,  thirty  florins ;  and  he  is  a  hard  man.  He  entices  him  to  gaming,  and 
all  kinds  of  waste ;  and  because  he  is  afraid  of  him,  he  dare  not  keep  away  from 
hia  tavern,  though  it  costs  him,  almost  every  day,  his  wages  and  his  children's 


528  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

bread.  Honored  sir !  he  has  seven  young  children,  and  without  help  and  coun- 
sel against  the  bailiff  it  is  impossible  that  we  should  escape  beggary.  I  know 
that  you  have  compassion  upon  the  widow  and  the  orphan,  and  therefore  I  have 
made  bold  to  come  to  you,  and  tell  you  our  misfortunes.  I  have  brought  with 
me  all  my  children's  savings,  to  leave  them  with  you,  if  I  might  venture  to  beg 
you  to  make  some  agreement  for  us,  so  that  the  bailiff,  till  he  is  paid,  may  not 
oppress  and  injure  us  any  more." 

Arner  had  long  had  suspicions  of  the  bailiff.  He  perceived,  therefore,  imme- 
diately, the  truth  of  this  complaint,  and  the  wisdom  of  what  she  asked.  He  took 
a  cup  of  tea  which  stood  before  him,  and  said — "  You  are  tired,  Gertrude ;  drink 
this  tea,  and  give  your  pretty  child  some  of  this  milk." 

Gertrude  stood  blushing ;  and  this  paternal  kindness  went  to  her  heart,  so  that 
she  could  not  restrain  her  tears.  And  Arner  encouraged  her  to  tell  him  what 
the  bailiff  and  his  companions  had  done,  and  the  wants  and  cares  of  many  years. 
He  listened  attentively,  and  than  asked  her,  "  How  have  you  been  able,  Ger- 
trude, through  all  this  distress  to  keep  your  children's  money?" 

Then  Gertrude  answered: — "It  was  difficult  indeed,  gracious  sir,  to  do  so; 
but  I  always  looked  upon  the  money  as  not  my  own,  as  if  some  dying  man  had 
given  it  me  on  his  death-bed  to  keep  for  his  children.  I  considered  it  almost  in 
this  light ;  and  if  ever,  in  the  time  of  our  greatest  need,  I  was  obliged  to  buy 
the  children  bread  with  it,  I  never  rested  till  I  had  made  it  up  again  for  them  by 
night  labor." 

"Was  that  always  possible,  Gertrude?"  said  Arner. 

"  0  gracious  sir,  if  we  have  once  set  our  hearts  upon  any  thing,  we  can  do 
more  than  we  could  imagine  possible,  and  God  always  helps  us  in  our  greatest 
need,  if  we  are  really  doing  our  best  to  get  what  is  absolutely  necessary.  0 
gracious  sir,  he  helps  us  more  than  you  in  your  magnificence  can  know  or 
imagine." 

Arner  was  deeply  affected  by  the  innocence  and  goodness  of  this  poor  woman ; 
he  made  still  further  inquiries;  and  said^  "Gertrude,  where  is  this  money?" 

Then  Gertrude  laid  down  seven  neat  parcels  upon  Arner's  table ;  and  to  every 
parcel  was  fastened  a  ticket,  saying  whose  it  was,  and  when  Gertrude  had  taken 
any  thing  away  from  it,  and  how  she  had  replaced  it. 

Arner  read  the  tickets  over  attentively.  Gertrude  saw  it,  and  blushed:  "I 
ought  to  have  taken  away  these  tickets,  gracious  sir." 

Arner  smiled,  and  read  on;  but  Gertrude  stood  there  abashed,  and  her 
heart  throbbed  on  account  of  these  tickets ;  for  she  was  modest,  and  troubled  at 
the  least  appearance  of  vanity. 

Arner  saw  her  uneasiness  because  she  had  not  taken  off  the  tickets,  and  felt 
the  simple  dignity  of  innocence,  as  she  stood  ashamed  that  her  goodness  and 
prudence  were  noticed ;  and  he  resolved  to  befriend  her  more  than  she  asked  or 
hoped  for;  for  he  felt  her  worth,  and  that  no  woman  was  like  her  among  a  thou- 
sand. He  added  something  to  each  of  the  parcels,  and  said  "Take  back  your 
children's  money,  Gertrude,  and  I  will  lay  down  thirty  florins  for  the  bailiff,  till 
he  is  paid.  Go  home,  now,  Gertrude ;  to-morrow  I  shall  be  in  the  village,  and 
I  will  settle  matters  between  you  and  Hummel." 

Gertrude  could  not  speak  for  joy;  scarcely  could  she  stammer  out  a  broken, 
sobbing — "  Heaven  reward  you,  gracious  sir!"  and  then  she  went  with  her  baby 
<ind  with  the  comfort  she  had  obtained,  to  her  husband.  As  she  went,  she 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  529 

prayed  and  thanked  God  all  the  way,  and  wept  tears  of  gratitude  and  hope,  till 
she  came  to  her  cottage. 

Leonard  saw  her  coming,  and  saw  the  joy  of  her  heart  in  her  countenance. 

"  Art  thou  here  again  so  soon  ?"  sak  je,  going  to  meet  her.  "  Thou  hast  been 
successful  with  Arner." 

"  How  dost  thou  know  that  already  ?"  said  Gertrude. 

"  I  see  it  in  thy  face,  thou  excellent  creature,  thou  canst  not  conceal  it." 

"That  can  I  not,"  said  Gertrude,  "  and  I  would  not,  if  I  could,  keep  the  good 
•news  a  moment  from  thee,  Leonard."  Then  she  related  to  him  Arner's  kind- 
ness ;  how  he  had  believed  her  words,  and  how  he  had  promised  to  help  them. 
And  she  gave  the  children  Arner's  present,  and  kissed  them  all,  more  fondly 
and  cheerfully  than  she  had  done  for  a  long  time  past ;  and  said  to  them :  "  Pray 
every  day  for  Arner,  my  children,  as  you  pray  for  your  father  and  me.  Arner 
-cares  for  .the  welfare  of  all  the  country ;  he  cares  for  your  welfare ;  and  if  you 
are  good  and  well-behaved,  and  industrious,  you  will  be  dear  to  him,  as  you  are 
•\ear  to  me  and  to  your  father." 

From  that  time  forward  the  mason's  children,  every  morning  and  evening, 
,v'hen  they  prayed  for  their  father  and  mother,  prayed  also  for  Arner,  the  father 
of  the  country. 

Gertrude  and  Leonard  made  fresh  resolutions  to  look  after  the  management 
•of  the  house,  and  to  bring  up  their  children  in  every  good  way ;  and  this  day 
was  a  festival  to  them.  Leonard's  courage  was  renewed,  and  in  the  evening 
Gertrude  prepared  for  him  a  supper  that  he  was  fond  of;  and  they  rejoiced  to- 
gether over  the  coming  morning,  the  assistance  of  Arner,  and  the  mercy  of  their 
God. 

Arner,  too,  longed  for  the  next  morning,  that  he  might  do  a  deed,  such  as  he 
did  by  thousands,  to  make  his  existence  useful. 

CHAPTER  in. — A  BRUTE  APPEARS. 

AND  when  his  bailiff  came  to  him,  that  evening,  to  receive  his  orders,  he  said 
to  him,  "  I  am  coming  myself  to  Bonnal,  to-morrow.  I  am  determined  to  have 
the  building  of  the  church  begun  at  last."  The  bailiff  replied :  "  Gracious  sir, 
is  your  grace's  master-builder  at  liberty  now?  "No,"  answered  Arner,  "but 
there  is  a  mason  in  the  village,  of  the  name  of  Leonard,  whom  I  shall  be  glad 
to  employ  in  this  affair.  Why  have  you  never  recommended  him  to  me  before 
as  a  workman  ?" 

The  bailiff  made  a  low  bow,  and  said  :  "  I  durst  not  have  employed  the  poor 
mason  in  any  of  your  magnificence's  buildings." 

Arner.     "  Is  he  a  trusty  man,  bailiff,  upon  whom  I  can  depend?" 
Riiliff.     "  Yes — your  grace  may  depend  upon  him ;  he  is  a  very  honest  fellow." 
"They  say  he  has  an  excellent  wife ;  is  she  not  a  talker?"  said  Arner  em- 
phatically. 

"No,  indeed,"  replied  the  bailiff,  "she  is  a  hard-working,  quiet  woman." 
"  Very  well,"  said  Arner,   "  be  at  the  church-yard  to-morrow  morning,  at  nine 
o'clock.     I  will  meet  you  there  myself." 

The  bailiff  went  away,  well  pleased  with  this  conversation ;  for  he  thought 
within  himself  this  is  a  fresh  cow  for  my  stall ;  and  he  already  turned  over  in 
<iis  mind  the  tricks  by  which  he  should  get  from  the  mason,  the  money  he  might 
gain  by  this  building  of  the  church.  He  went  straight  home,  and  then  to  the 
mason's  cottage.  34 


530  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

1 1  \vas  already  dark,  as  he  knocked  impatiently  at  the  door. 

Leonard  and  Gertrude  were  sitting  by  the  table.  The  remains  of  the  supper 
were  still  before  them.  Leonard  knew  the  voice  of  the  envious  bailiff,  started, 
and  pushed  the  food  into  a  corner. 

(!ert  rude  encouraged  him  not  to  bo  afraid,  and  to  trust  in  Arner;  but  he 
turned  pale  as  he  opened  the  door  for  the  bailiff. 

The  latter  smelt  out  the  concealed  supper  as  quick  as  a  hungry  hound,  but  he 
behaved  civilly,  and  said,  though  with  a  smile;  "You  are  well  off,  good  people; 
it  is  easy  to  do  without  the  tavern  at  this  rate.  Is  it  not,  Leonard?" 

The  poor  man  cast  down  his  eyes  and  was  silent ;  but  Gertrude  was  bolder, 
and  said :  "What  are  the  bailiff's  commands  ?  It  is  seldom  that  he  comes  fur- 
ther than  to  the  window  of  such  a  poor  house  as  this." 

Hummel  concealed  his  anger,  laughed,  and  said :  "  It  is  very  true  that  I 
should  not  have  expected  to  find  such  good  cooking  here ;  or  perhaps  I  might 
have  invited  myself." 

This  vexed  Gertrude.  "Bailiff,"  said  she,  "you  smell  our  supper,  and  grudge 
it  us.  When  a  poor  man  is  enjoying  a  supper  he  likes,  and  which  perhaps  he 
does  not  get  three  times  in  a  year,  you  should  be  ashamed  to  come  in  and  spoil 
it." 

"I  had  no  such  wicked  intention,"  said  the  bailiff,  still  laughing.  But  soon 
afterward,  he  added  more  seriously,  "  You  are  too  insolent,  Gertrude ;  it  does 
not  become  poor  people.  You  should  remember  that  we  may  have  something  to 
do  with  each  other  yet.  But  I  will  not  begin  upon  this  at  present.  I  am  always 
kindly  disposed  toward  your  husband ;  and  whenever  I  can,  I  serve  him.  Of 
this  I  can  give  proof." 

Gertrude.  "  Bailiff,  my  husband  is  enticed  away,  every  day,  to  drink  and  game 
in  your  tavern,  and  then  must  I  and  my  children,  at  home,  suffer  every  possible 
misery.  This  is  the  service  we  have  to  thank  you  for." 

Hummel.  "You  do  me  wrong,  Gertrude.  It  is  true  that  your  husband  ia 
somewhat  inclined  to  drinking.  I  have  often  told  him  so.  But  in  my  tavern, 
I  can  not  refuse  any  man  what  he  asks  for,  to  eat  and  drink.  Every  body  does 
the  same." 

Ger.  "Yes;  but  every  body  does  not  threaten  a  poor  unfortunate  man  witb 
law,  if  he  does  not  double  his  reckoning  every  year." 

Here  the  bailiff  could  restrain  himself  no  longer;  he  turned  in  a  rage  to 
Leonard:  "  Are  you  such  a  pitiful  fellow,  Leonard,  as  to  tell  these  tales  of  me? 
Must  I  have  it  thrown  into  my  very  beard,  what  you  ragamuffins  are  going  to- 
bring  upon  the  credit  and  good  name  of  an  old  man  like  me  ?  Did  I  not  reckon 
with  you  a  short  time  ago,  before  the  overseer  ?  It  is  well  that  all  the  tickets 
are  in  my  hands.  Will  you  deny  my  claims,  Leonard?" 

"  That  is  not  the  question,"  said  Leonard.  "  Gertrude  only  wants  me  to  make 
no  fresh  debts." 

The  bailiff  considered  a  little,  lowered  his  tone,  and  said:  " There  is  nothing 
so  much  amiss  in  that.  But  you  are  the  master — she  does  not  wish  to  tie  you 
up  in  leading-strings  ?" 

Ger.  "Far  from  it,  bailiff.  I  only  wish  to  get  him  out  of  the  leading-strings 
in  which  lie  is  now  fast — and  that  is  your  book,  bailiff,  and  those  beautiful 
tickets." 

Hum.  "  He  has  only  to  pay  me,  and  then  he  will  be  out  of  the  leading-strings,, 
as  you  call  them,  in  a  twinkl  i^." 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  531 

Ger.     "  He  will  well  be  able  to  do  that,  if  he  makes  no  fresh  debts." 

Hum.  "You  are  proud,  Gertrude — we  shall  see.  Confess  the  truth,  Ger- 
trude !  you  would  rather  sit  junketing  with  him  alone  at  home,  than  let  him 
enjoy  a  glass  of  wine  with  me." 

Ger.     "You  are  a  mean  fellow,  bailiff;  but  your  speeches  do  me  no  harm." 

Hummel  could  not  continue  this  conversation  any  longer.  He  felt  that  some- 
thing must  have  happened  to  make  this  woman  so  bold.  Therefore  he  durst  not 
indulge  his  anger,  and  took  his  leave. 

"Have  you  any  further  commands?"  said  Gertrude. 

"None  if  this  is  to  be  the  way;"  answered  Hummel. 

"  What  way  ?"    replied  Gertrude,  smiling,  and  looking  steadily  in  his  face. 

This  put  the  bailiff  still  more  out  of  countenance,  so  that  he  knew  not  how 
to  behave. 

He  went  out,  muttering  to  himself  down  the  steps ;  what  can  be  the  meaning 
of  all  this  ? 

Leonard  was  not  easy  about  the  business,  and  the  bailiff  was  still  less  so. 

CHAPTER  iv. — HE  is  WITH  HIS  OWN  SET,  AND  IT  is  THERE  THAT  ROGUES  SHOW 

THEMSELVES. 

IT  was  now  near  midnight,  and  as  soon  as  he  got  home,  he  sent  for  two  of 
Leonard's  neighbours,  to  come  to  him  directly. 

They  were  hi  bed  when  he  sent,  but  got  up  again,  without  delay,  and  went 
to  him  through  the  dark  night. 

And  he  inquired  about  every  thing  which  Leonard  and  Gertrude  had  done- 
for  some  days  past.  But  as  they  could  tell  him  nothing  which  threw  any  light, 
upon  the  subject,  he  turned  his  rage  against  them. 

"You  hounds,  if  one  wants  any  thing  from  you,  you  are  never  ready  with  it, 
I  don't  know  why  I  should  always  be  your  fool.  Whenever  you  trespass  in  the 
woods,  or  steal  fodder, — I  am  to  take  no  notice  of  it. — When  you  turn  cattle 
into  the  squire's  pastures  and  destroy  the  hedges — I  must  not  say  a  word" — 

"You,  Bullerl  more  than  a  third  part  of  thy  reckoning  was  false,  and  I  was 
silent  about  it.  Dost  thou  think  that  bit  of  mouldy  hay  was  enough  to  content 
me  ?  but  the  year  is  not  yet  passed  over.  And  you,  Kruel  I  Thy  half  meadow 
belongs  to  thy  brother's  children.  You  old  thief!  what  good  hast  thou  done 
to  me,  that  I  should  not  give  thee  up  to  the  hangman,  whose  property  thou  art?  " 

These  speeches  frightened  the  neighbors. 

"What  can  we  do?  What  must  we  do,  Mr.  Bailiff?  By  night  or  by  day, 
we  are  always  ready  to  do  what  you  ask  us." 

"You  dogs!  You  can  do  nothing — you  know  nothing — I  am  half  mad  with 
rage.  I  must  know  what  the  mason's  people  have  been  about  this  week — what 
is  hidden  hi  that  poke."  Thus  he  went  on. 

In  the  mean  time  Kruel  recollected  himself. 

"  Hold,  bailiff,  I  have  just  thought  of  something.  Gertrude  went  over  the 
fields  this  morning ;  and  this  evening,  her  Liseli  was  praising  the  squire  at  the  well. 
She  must  surely  have  been  to  the  hall.  The  evening  before,  there  was  a  great 
lamentation  in  the  cottage ;  nobody  knew  why.  To-day  they  are  all  cheerful 
again." 

The  bailiff  was  now  convinced  that  Gertrude  had  been  to  the  hall.  Anger 
and  alarm  raged  still  more  fiercely  in  his  soul. 

He  uttered  horrible  curses,  abused  Arner  violently  for  listening  to  every  beg- 


532  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

garly  wretch  ;  and  swore  to  have  revenge  upon  Leonard  and  Gertrude.  "  But 
you  must  say  nothing  about  it,  neighbors.  I  will  treat  these  people  civilly,  till 
all  is  ripe.  Look  carefully  after  what  they  do,  and  bring  me  word — I  will  be 
your  man  when  you  want  help." 

Then  he  took  Buller  aside,  and  said.  "  Dost  thou  know  any  thing  of  the  stolen 
flower-pots?  Thou  wert  seen,  yesterday,  going  over  the  borders  with  a  laden 
ass.  What  wert  thou  carrying  off? 

Buller  started.  "I— I— had— "  "Come,  come,"  said  the  bailiff  "be  faithful 
to  me,  and  I  will  help  thee  at  a  pinch." 

Then  the  neighbors  went  away,  but  it  was  already  near  dawn. 

And  Hummel  threw  himself  on  his  bed  for  about  an  hour — started,  thought 
of  vengeance,  gnashed  his  teeth  in  uneasy  slumber,  and  kicked  with  his  feet — 
till  the  clear  day  called  him  from  his  bed. 

He  resolved  to  see  Leonard  once  more,  to  master  himself,  and  to  tell  him  that 
Arner  had  appointed  him  to  build  the  church.  He  summoned  all  his  powers 
of  deceiving,  and  went  to  him. 

Gertrude  and  Leonard  had  slept  more  peacefully  this  night  than  they  had 
done  for  a  long  time  past;  and^at  the  dawn  of  morning  they  prayed  for  a  bless- 
ing upon  the  day.  They  hoped  also  for  prompt  help  from  Father  Arner.  This 
hope  spread  tranquillity  of  soul,  and  unwonted  delightful  serenity  around  them. 

Thus  did  Hummel  find  them.  He  saw  how  it  was,  and  Satan  entered  into 
his  heart,  so  that  he  was  more  than  ever  inflated  with  rage ;  but  he  commanded 
himself,  wished  them  civilly  good  morning,  and  said : 

"Leonard,  we  parted  in  anger  with  each  other  last  night;  but  this  must  not 
last.  I  have  some  good  news  for  thee.  I  am  come  from  our  gracious  master; 
he  has  been  speaking  of  building  the  church,  and  inquired  about  thee.  I  said 
thou  wert  equal  to  the  work,  and  I  think  he  will  give  it  thee.  This  is  the  way 
neighbors  can  serve  one  another — we  must  not  be  so  easily  vexed." 

Leonard.  "He  has  agreed  with  his  master-builder  to  build  the  church.  You 
told  the  whole  village  so,  long  ago." 

Hummel.  "  I  thought  it  was  so ;  but  it  proves  a  mistake.  The  master-builder 
has  only  made  an  estimate  of  it,  and  thou  mayest  easily  believe  he  has  not  for- 
gotten his  own  profit.  If  thou  undertakest  it  according  to  this  reckoning,  thou 
mayst  gather  up  gold  like  leaves.  Leonard,  see  now  how  well  I  mean  by  thee." 

The  mason  was  overcome  by  the  hope  of  having  the  work,  and  thanked  him 
cordially.  But  Gertrude  saw  that  the  bailiff  was  white  with  smothered  rage, 
and  that  bitter  wrath  was  concealed  under  his  smiles;  and  she  could  not  yet  re- 
joice. The  bailiff  retired,  and  as  he  went,  he  added,  "  "Within  an  hour  Arner 
\rill  be  here."  And  Leonard's  daughter  Lise,  who  was  standing  by  her  father, 
said  to  the  bailiff, 

"  We  have  known  that  ever  since  yesterday." 

Hummel  started  at  these  words,  but  pretended  not  to  hear  them. 

And  Gertrude,  who  saw  that  the  bailiff  was  lying  in  wait  for  the  money, 
which  might  be  gained  by  the  building  of  the  church,  was  very  uneasy  about  it. 

CHAPTER  v. — HE  FINDS  HIS  MASTER. 

IN  the  mean  time  Anier  came  to  the  churchyard,  and  many  people  collected 
together  from  the  village  to  see  the  good  squire. 

"  Are  you  so  idle,  or  is  this  a  holiday,  that  you  have  so  much  time  to  be  gossip- 
ing here  ?  said  the  bailiff  to  some  who  stood  too  near  him  ;  for  he  always  took  care 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  533 

that  nobody  should  hear  the  orders  he  received.  But  Arner  observed  it  and 
said  aloud:  "Bailiff,  I  like  my  children  to  remain  in  the  churchyard,  and  to 
hear,  themselves,  how  I  will  arrange  about  the  building.  Why  do  you  drive 
them  away  ?  " 

Hummel  bowed  down  to  the  ground,  and  called  aloud  to  the  neighbors  : 
"  Come  back  again  !  his  grace  will  allow  it." 

Arner.     "  Have  you  seen  the  estimate  for  the  building  of  the  church  ?" 

Bai'Aff.     "  Yes,  gracious  sir." 

Arrier.  "Do  you  think  Leonard  can  make  the  building  good  and  durable,  at 
this  price  ?" 

"Yes,  gracious  sir,"  answered  the  bailiff;  and  he  added  in  a  lower  tone, 
"  I  think,  as  he  lives  on  the  spot,  he  might  perhaps  undertake  it  for  something 
less." 

But  Arner  said  aloud,  "  As  much  as  I  would  have  given  to  my  master-builder, 
so  much  will  I  give  him.  Call  him  here,  and  take  care  that  he  has  as  much 
from  the  wood  and  from  the  magazine  as  the  master-builder  would  have  had." 

A  few  moments  before  Arner  sent  to  call  him,  Leonard  had  gone  to  the  upper 
village,  and  Gertrude  resolved  to  go  back  herself  to  the  churchyard  with  the 
messenger,  and  tell  Arner  her  anxieties. 

When  the  bailiff  saw  Gertrude  coming  back  with  the  messenger  instead  of 
Leonard,  he  turned  pale. 

Arner  observed  it,  and  said,  "What  is  the  matter,  bailiff?" 

Bailiff.  "  Nothing,  gracious  sir!  nothing  at  all ;  only  I  did  not  sleep  well  last 
night." 

"One  may  tell  that  by  your  looks,"  said  Arner,  looking  steadily  into  his  in- 
flamed eyes.  Then  he  turned  to  Gertrude,  spoke  to  her  kindly,  and  said,  "  Is 
your  husband  not  with  you  ?  You  must  tell  him  to  come  to  me.  I  will  intrust 
the  building  of  this  church  to  him." 

Gertrude  stood  for  a  few  moments  silent,  and  durst  not  say  a  word  before  so 
many  people. 

Arner.  "  Why  do  you  not  speak,  Gertrude  ?  I  will  give  your  husband  the 
work,  upon  the  same  terms  on  which  my  master-builder  would  have  had  it. 
This  ought  to  please  you,  Gertrude." 

Gertrude  had  now  recovered  herself,  and  said,  "  Gracious  sir,  the  church  is  so 
near  the  tavern." 

All  the  people  began  to  smile ;  and  as  most  of  them  wished  to  conceal  this 
from  the  bailiff,  they  turned  away  from  him  toward  Arner. 

The  bailiff,  who  clearly  saw  that  Arner  had  perceived  it  all,  got  up  in  a  pas- 
sion, went  toward  Gertrude,  and  said,  "  What  have  you  to  say  against  my  tavern?" 

Arner  quickly  interrupted  him  and  said,  "  Is  this  your  affair,  bailiff,  that  you 
interfere  about  it  ?"  Then  he  turned  again  to  Gertrude,  and  said,  "  What  do  you 
mean?  Why  is  the  church  too  near  the  tavern?" 

Ger.  "Gracious  sir,  my  husband  is  easily  enticed  away  by  wine;  and  if  he 
works  every  day  so  near  the  tavern,  I  am  afraid  he  will  not  be  able  to  resist." 

Arner.     "But  can  not  he  avoid  the  tavern,  if  it  is  so  dangerous  to  him?" 

Ger.  "Gracious  sir,  when  people  are  working  hard,  and  get  heated,  it  makes 
them  very  thirsty ;  and  if  he  has  always  before  his  eyes  people  drinking  together, 
and  trying  to  entice  him  by  every  kind  of  joviality,  and  jesting,  and  buying 
wine,  and  laying  wagers,  oh  1  how  will  he  be  able  to  resist  ?  and  if  he  once  gets 
ever  so  little  into  debt  again,  he  is  fast.  Gracious  sir,  if  you  only  knew  how 


034  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

one  single  evening,  in  such  houses,  can  bring  poor  people  into  slavery  and 
snares,  out  of  which  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  escape  again!" 

Arner.  "  I  do  know  it,  Gertrude !  and  I  am  angry  about  what  you  told  me 
yesterday ;  and  therefore,  before  your  eyes,  and  before  the  eyes  of  all  these  peo- 
ple, I  will  show  that  I  will  not  have  the  poor  oppressed  and  ID-used.  Then  he 
turned  to  the  bailiff,  and  said,  with  a  solemn  voice,  and  a  look  which  thrilled 
through  his  bones  and  marrow :  "  Bailiff!  is  it  true,  that  poor  people  are  op- 
pressed, and  misled,  and  cheated  in  your  house  ?" 

Confused,  and  pale  as  death,  the  bailiff  answered:  "  Gracious  sir,  such  a  thing 
never  happened  to  me  before  hi  my  life, — and  so  long  as  I  live,  and  am 

bailiff" ;  he  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  face— coughed — cleared  his 

throat,  and  began  again.  "It  is  dreadful" . 

Arner.  "  You  are  disturbed,  bailiff !  The  question  is  a  simple  one.  Is  it  true, 
that  you  oppress  the  poor,  and  lay  snares  for  them  in  your  tavern,  so  as  to  make 
their  homes  unhappy  ?" 

Bailiff.  ' '  N"o,  certainly  not,  gracious  sir !  This  is  the  reward  one  gets  for  serving 
such  beggarly  folks.  I  might  have  foreseen  it.  One  always  gets  such  thanks 
instead  of  payment." 

Arner.  "  Trouble  not  yourself  about  payment  now.  The  question  is,  whether 
this  woman  lies." 

Bailiff.     "  Yes,  certainly,  gracious  sir!     I  will  prove  it  a  thousand  fold." 

Arner.  "  Once  is  enough,  bailiff!  but  take  care.  You  said  yesterday,  that 
Gertrude  was  a  good,  quiet,  hard-working  woman,  and  no  talker." 

"I  don't  know — I — I — thought — you  have — I  thought — her  so ,"  said 

the  gasping  bailiff. 

Arner.  "  You  are  so  troubled,  bailiff,  that  there  is  no  speaking  to  you  now.  It 
will  be  better  for  me  to  find  it  out  from  these  neighbors  here ;  and  immediately 
he  turned  to  two  old  men  who  stood  by  quietly,  and  with  interest,  observing 
what  passed,  and  said  to  them,  '  Is  it  true,  good  neighbors  ?  are  the  people  led 
away  to  evil,  and  oppressed  in  the  tavern  ?'  The  two  men  looked  at  each  other, 
and  durst  not  speak." 

But  Arner  encouraged  them  kindly.  "Do  not  be  afraid!  Tell  me  the  plain 
truth!" 

"It  is  but  too  true,  gracious  sir;  but  how  can  we  poor  people  venture  to  com- 
plain against  the  bailiff?"  said  the  elder  of  the  two  at  last,  but  in  so  Imv  a  voice. 
that  only  Arner  could  hear  it. 

"It  is  enough,  old  man,"  said  Arner;  and  then  turned  to  the  luiliff. 

"I  can  not,  at  present,  inquire  fully  into  this  complaint;  but  certainly  I  will 
have  my  poor  people  secure  against  all  oppression ;  and  I  have  long  thought 
that  no  bailiff  should  keep  tavern.  But  1  will  defer  this  till  Monday.  Gertrude, 
tell  your  husband  to  come  to  me;  and  be  easy,  on  his  account,  about  the 
tavern." 

Then  Arner  transacted  some  other  business ;  and  when  he  had  done,  he  went 
into  the  forest  hard  by ;  and  it  was  late  when  he  arrived  at  home.  The  bailiff, 
too,  who  was  obliged  to  follow  him  into  the  forest,  did  not  get  back  to  the  vil- 
lage till  it  was  night. 

When  he  came  to  his  house,  and  saw  no. light  in  the  room,  and  heard  no 
voices,  he  foreboded  some  misfortune ;  for  usually  the  house  was  full  every  eve- 
ning, and  all  the  windows  were  lighted  up  by  the  candles  which  stood  upon  the 
tables ;  and  the  shouts  of  those  \vlio  were  drinking,  always  sounded  through 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  535 

the  still  night,  so  that  you  might  have  heard  them  at  the  bottom  of  the  street, 
though  it  is  a  long  one,  and  the  bailiff's  house  stands  at  the  top. 

The  bailiff  was  very  much  startled  by  this  unusual  silence.  He  opened  his 
door  impatiently,  and  said,  "What  is  this?  what  is  this?  "Why  is  nobody 
here  ?" 

His  wife  was  sobbing  in  a  corner.  <;  Oh  husband!  Art  thou  comeback? 
Oh  what  a  misfortune  has  befallen  us !  There  is  a  jubilee  of  thy  enemies  in  the 
village,  and  no  man  dares  come  and  drink  a  single  glass  of  wine  with  us. 
They  all  say  thou  hast  been  taken  through  the  forest  to  Arnburg." 

As  an  imprisoned  wild  boar  foams  in  the  trap,  opens  his  jaws,  rolls  about  his 
eyes,  and  roars  with  anger;  so  did  Hummel  rage.  He  stamped,  and  was  full 
of  fury,  plotted  revenge  against  Arner,  and  cursed  him  for  his  goodness.  Then 
he  spoke  to  himself: 

"Is  this  the  way  to  have  justice  done  in  the  country?  He  will  take  away 
my  license  from  me,  and  be  the  only  person  to  hang  up  a  sign  in  the  manor. 
In  the  memory  of  man,  the  bailiffs  have  all  been  landlords.  All  affairs  have 
gone  through  our  hands.  But  this  man  thrusts  himself  into  every  thing, 
like  a  village  schoolmaster.  Therefore  every  knave  is  become  insolent  to  the 
constables,  and  says  he  can  speak  to  Arner  himself.  Thus  the  law  loses  all  its 
credit,  and  we  sit  still  under  it  and  are  silent,  pitiful  creatures  as  we  are,  whilst 
he  thus  wrongs  arid  alters  the  rights  of  the  land." 

Thus  did  the  old  rogue  misrepresent  to  himself  the  good  and  wise  actions  of 
his  excellent  master,  raged  and  plotted  revenge,  till  he  fell  asleep. 

CHAPTER  vi. — CONVERSATION  AMONGST  COUNTRY  PEOPLE. 

IN  the  morning  he  rose  early,  and  sang  and  whistled  at  his  window,  that  peo- 
ple might  think  he  was  perfectly  easy  about  what  had  happened  yesterday.  But 
Fritz,  his  neighbor,  called  to  him  across  the  street:  "Hast  thou  customers  so 
early,  that  thou  art  so  merry?"  and  he  smiled  to  himself  as  he  said  it. 

"They  will  be  coining  soon,  Fritz!  Hopsasa  and  Heisasa!  Plums  are  not 
figs,"  said  the  bailiff;  and  he  held  a  glass  of  brandy  out  of  the  window,  and 
said:  "Wilt  thou  pledge  me,  Fritz?" 

"It is  too  soon  for  me,"  answered  Fritz,  "I  will  wait  till  there  is  more  com- 
pany." 

"Thou  wert  always  a  wag,"  said  the  bailiff,  "but,  depend  upon  it,  yesterday's 
business  will  not  turn  out  so  ill.  No  bird  flies  so  high  that  it  never  comes  down 
again." 

"I  know  not,"  answered  Fritz.  "The  bird  I  am  thinking  ofj  has  had  a 
long  flight  of  it;  but  perhaps  we  are  not  speaking  of  the  same  bird,  Mr. 
Bailiff?  They  are  calling  me  to  breakfast!"  and  with  this,  Fritz  shut  down  his 
window. 

''Short  leave-taking,"  murmured  the  bailiff  to  himself,  and  shook  his  head 
until  his  hair  and  his  cheeks  shook.  "  I  shall  have  the  devil  to  pay,  to  get  this 
cursed  business  of  yesterday  out  of  these  people's  heads."  Having  said  this  to 
himself,  he  poured  out  some  brandy,  drank  it  off,  and  said  again:  "Courage! 
time  brings  counsel !  This  is  Saturday.  These  simpletons  will  be  going  to  be 
shaved.  I  will  away  to  the  barber's,  and  give  them  each  a  glass  of  wine.  The 
fellows  always  believe  me  ten  times  before  they  would  half  believe  the  pastor 
once."  So  said  the  bailiff  to  himself;  and  then  added  to  his  wife :  "Fill  my  box 
with  tobacco :  not  with  my  own,  but  with  that  strong  sort — it  suits  such  fel- 


536  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

lows.     And  if  the  barber's  boy  comes  for  wine,  give  him  that  brimstoned  tkree 
times  over,  and  put  into  each  can  a  glass  of  brandy." 

He  went  out ;  but  whilst  he  was  in  the  street,  and  not  far  from  home,  he  rec- 
ollected himself,  turned  back,  and  said  to  his  wife,  "  There  may  be  knaves  drink- 
ing with  me.  I  must  be  upon  my  guard.  Get  me  some  yellow-colored  water ;. 
and  when  I  send  for  the  La  Cote,  bring  it  thyself."  He  then  went  out  again. 

But  before  he  arrived  at  the  barber's,  and  under  the  lime-trees  near  the  school 
he  met  Nickel  Spitz  and  Jogli  Rubel. 

"  Whither  away,  in  thy  Sunday  clothes,  Mr.  Bailiff?"  asked  Nickel  Spitz. 

Bailiff.     "  I  am  going  to  get  shaved." 

Nickel.     "It's  odd  thou  hast  time  for  it,  on  a  Saturday  morning." 

Bailiff.     "  That's  true.     It  is  not  so  the  year  through." 

Nick.  '•  No  I  It  is  not  long  since  thou  earnest  always  on  a  Sunday,  between 
morning  prayers,  to  the  barber." 

Bailiff.     "  Yes,  a  time  or  two." 

Nick.  "  A  time  or  two !  The  two  last,  I  think.  Since  the  pastor  had  thy  dog 
driven  out  of  the  church,  thou  hast  never  been  within  his  premises." 

Bailiff.  "  Thou  art  a  fool,  Nickel,  to  talk  so.  We  must  forgive  and  forget ;  the 
driving  the  dog  away,  has  long  been  out  of  my  head." 

Nick.     "I  would  not  trust  to  that,  if  I  were  the  pastor." 

Bailiff.  "  Thou  art  a  simpleton,  Nickel ;  why  should  he  not  ?  But  come  into 
the  room,  there  will  be  some  drinking  ere  long." 

Nick.  "  Thou  wouldst  look  sharp  after  the  barber,  if  he  had  any  drinking 
going  on  in  his  house." 

Bailiff.  "  I  am  not  half  so  jealous  as  that  comes  to.  They  are  for  taking  away 
my  license ;  but  Nickel,  we  are  not  come  to  that  yet.  At  all  events,  we  shall 
have  six  weeks  and  three  days,  before  that  time  arrives." 

Nick.  "  So  I  suppose.  But  it  is  HO  good  thing  for  thee,  that  the  young  squire 
does  not  follow  his  grandfather's  creed." 

Bailiff.     "  Truly,  he  does  not  believe  quite  as  his  grandfather  did." 

Nick.     "I  suspect  they  differ  about  every  article  of  the  twelve." 

Bailiff.     "  It  may  be  so.     But  the  old  man's  belief  was  the  best,  to  my  fancy." 

Nick.  "  No  doubt !  The  first  article  of  his  creed  was :  I  believe  in  thee,  my 
bailiff." 

Bailiff.     "Thou  art  facetious,  Nickel!  but  what  was  the  next?" 

Nick.  "  I  don't  know  exactly.  I  think  it  was :  I  believe  in  no  man  but  thee, 
my  bailiff,  not  a  single  word." 

Bailiff.  "Thou  shouldst  have  been  a  pastor,  Nickel:  thou  couldst  not  only 
have  explained  the  catechism,  but  put  a  new  one  in  its  place." 

Nick.  "  They  would  not  let  me  do  that.  If  they  did,  I  should  make  it  so  clear 
and  plain,  that  the  children  would  understand  it  without  the  pastor,  and  then  he 
would  naturally  be  of  no  use." 

Bailiff.  "  We  will  keep  to  the  old,  Nickel.  It  is  the  same  about  the  catechism 
as  about  every  thing  else  to  my  mind.  We  shall  not  better  ourselves  by  changing." 

Nick.  "  That  is  a  maxim  which  is  sometimes  true,  and  sometimes  not.  It  seems 
to  suit  thee  now  with  the  new  squire." 

Bailiff.  "It  will  suit  others  too,  if  we  wait  patiently,  and  for  my  own  part,  I 
am  not  so  much  afraid  of  the  new  squire.  Every  man  finds  his  master." 

Nick.  "  Very  true :  but  there  was  an  end  of  the  old  times  for  thee,  last 
summer." 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  53 T 

Bailiff.  "  At  all  events,  Nickel,  I  have  had  my  share  of  them.  Let  others  try- 
now." 

Nick.  "True,  thou  hast  had  thy  share!  and  a  very  good  one  it  was ;  but,  how 
could  it  miss  ?  The  secretary,  the  attorney,  and  the  late  pastor's  assistant,  all 
owed  thee  money." 

Bailiff.     "  People  said  so,  but  it  was  not  true." 

Nick.  "  Thou  mayst  say  so  now ;  but  thou  hadst  an  action  brought  against 
two  of  them,  because  the  money  did  not  come  back." 

Bailiff.     "  Thou  fool,  thou  knowest  every  thing." 

Nick.  "  I  know  a  great  deal  more  than  that.  I  know  thy  tricks  with  Rudi's 
father,  and  how  I  caught  thee  by  the  dog-kennel,  under  the  heap  of  straw,  lying 
on  thy  face,  close  to  Rudi's  window ;  his  attorney  was  with  him.  Till  two  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  didst  thou  listen  to  what  they  were  saying  in  the  room.  I  was 
watchman  that  night,  and  had  wine  gratis  at  thy  house,  for  a  week  after,  for  my 
silence." 

Bailiff.  "  Thou  heretic :  there  is  not  a  word  of  truth  in  what  thou  sayest.  It 
would  be  pretty  work  for  thee,  if  thou  wert  made  to  prove  it." 

Nick.  "  I  was  not  talking  about  proving  it,  but  thou  knowest  whether  it  be  true 
or  not." 

Bailiff.     "  Thou  hadst  better  take  back  thy  words." 

Nick.  "  The  devil  put  it  into  thy  head  to  listen  under  the  straw,  in  the  night. 
Thou  couldst  hear  every  word,  and  then  easily  twist  thy  evidence  with  the 
attorney." 

Bailiff.     "  How  thou  talkest !" 

Nick.  "  How  I  talk  ?  If  the  attorney  had  not  wrested  thy  evidence  before  the- 
court,  Rudi  would  have  had  his  meadow  now,  and  Wast  and  Kaibacker  needed 
not  have  taken  their  fine  oaths." 

Bailiff.  "  Truly,  thou  understandest  the  business,  as  well  as  the  schoolmaster 
does  Hebrew." 

Nick.  "Whether  I  understand  it  or  not,  I  learned  it  from  thee.  More  than 
twenty  times  thou  hast  laughed  with  me,  at  thy  obedient  servant,  Mr.  attorney." 

Bailiff.  "  Yes,  so  I  have ;  but  he  did  not  do  what  thou  sayest.  It  is  true,  he 
was  a  cunning  devil.  God  forgive  him.  It  will  be  ten  years,  next  Michaelmas, 
since  he  was  laid  in  his  grave." 

Nick.     "  Since  he  was  sent  to  hell,  thou  shouldst  say." 

Bailiff.     "  That  is  not  right.     We  should  not  speak  ill  of  the  dead." 

Nick.     "Very  true;  or  else  I  could  tell  how  he  cheated  Roppi's  children." 

Bailiff.  "  He  might  have  confessed  himself  to  thee,  on  his  death-bed,  thon< 
knowest  it  all  so  well." 

Nick.     "I  know  it,  at  any  rate." 

Bailiff.  "  The  best  part  of  it  is,  that  I  gamed  the  action :  if  thou  hadst  known, 
that  I  had  lost  it,  it  would  have  troubled  me." 

Nick.     "Nay,  I  know  that  thou  didst  gain  it,  but  I  also  know  how." 

Bailiff.     "Perhaps;  perhaps  not." 

Nick.     "  God  keep  all  poor  folks  from  law." 

Bailiff.  "  Thou  art  right  there.  Only  gentle-folks  and  people  well  off  in  the 
world,  should  go  to  law.  That  would  certainly  be  a  good  thing;  but  so  would 
many  other  things,  Nickel.  Well,  well,  we  must  be  content  with  things  as  they 
are." 

Nick.     "  Bailiff,  that  wise  saying  of  thine  puts  me  in  mind  of  a  fable  I  heard? 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

from  a  pilgrim.  He  came  out  of  Alsace,  and  told  it  before  a  whole  room  full  of 
people.  A  hermit  had  described  the  world  in  a  book  of  fables,  and  he  could 
repeat  it  almost  from  beginning  to  end.  We  asked  him  to  tell  us  some  of  these 
fables,  and  he  related  that  which  thou  remindest  me  of." 

Bailiff.     "  Well,  what  was  it,  prater  ?" 

Nick.  "  By  good  luck,  I  think  I  remember  it.  'A  sheep  was  complaining  and 
lamenting  that  the  wolf,  the  dog,  the  fox,  and  the  butcher,  tormented  her  terri- 
bly. A  fox,  that  was  standing  near  the  fold,  heard  the  complaint,  and  said  to 
the  sheep :  we  must  always  be  content  with  the  wise  regulations  of  the  world. 
If  there  were  any  change  it  would  be  for  the  worse. 

That  may  be  true,  when  the  fold  is  shut,  answered  the  sheep ;  but  if  it  were 
open,  I,  for  one,  should  not  agree  with  you. 

It  is  right  enough  that  there  should  be  wolves,  foxes,  and  wild  beasts :  but 
it  is  also  right,  that  the  fold  should  be  carefully  looked  after,  and  that  poor  weak 
animals  should  have  watchful  shepherds  and  dogs,  to  protect  them  from  wild 
beasts.' 

'  Heaven  preserve  us,'  added  the  pilgrim ;  '  there  are  everywhere  plenty  of  wild 
beasts,  and  but  few  good  shepherds.' 

1  Great  God,  thou  knowest  wherefore  it  is  so,  and  we  must  submit  silently.' 
His  comrades  added :  '  yes,  we  must  submit  silently ;  and  holy  virgin,  pray  for  us 
now,  and  in  the  hour  of  our  death.' 

We  were  all  affected  when  the  pilgrim  spoke  so  feelingly,  and  we  could  not 
go  on  chattering  our  nonsense  as  usual." 

Bailiff.  "  It's  fine  talking  about  such  silly  fancies  of  the  sheep ;  according  to 
which,  wolves,  foxes,  and  other  wild  beasts  must  die  of  hunger." 

Nick.     "  It  would  be  no  great  harm  if  they  did." 

Bailiff.     "  Art  thou  sure  of  that  ?" 

Nick.  "Nay,  I  spoke  foolishly;  they  need  not  die  of  hunger :  they  might 
always  find  carrion  and  wild  creatures,  and  these  belong  to  them,  and  not  tame 
animals,  which  must  be  brought  up,  and  kept  with  labor  and  cost." 

Bailiff.  "Thou  wouldst  not  then  have  them  altogether  die  of  hunger.  That  is 
a  great  deal  for  such  a  friend  of  tame  animals  to  allow;  but  I  am  starved,  come 
into  the  room." 

Nick.     "  I  can  not,  I  must  go  on." 

Bailiff.  "  Good-bye  then,  neighbors ;"  and  he  went  away.  Rubel  and  Nickel 
looked  at  each  other  for  a  moment,  and  Rubel  said,  "  Thou  hast  salted  his  meat 
for  him." 

Nick.  "  I  wish  it  had  been  peppered  too,  and  so  that  it  might  have  burnt  his 
tongue  till  to-morrow." 

Rubel     "A  week  ago,  thou  durst  not  thus  have  spoken  to  him." 

Nick.     "And  a  week  ago  he  would  not  have  answered  as  he  did." 

Rubel.  "  That  is  true.  He  is  grown  as  tame  as  my  dog,  the  first  day  it  had  its 
muzzle  on." 

Nick.  "  When  the  cup  is  full  it  will  run  over.  That  has  been  true  of  many  a 
man,  and  it  will  be  true  of  the  bailiff." 

Rubel.  "  Heaven  keep  us  from  officers  1  I  would  not  be  a  bailiff,  with  his  two 
courts." 

Nick.  "  But  if  anybody  offered  thee  half  of  one,  and  the  office  of  bailiff,  what 
wouldst  thou  do  ?" 

Rubel.     "Thou  fool!" 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  539 

Nick.     "  Thou  wise  man !  what  wouldst  them  do  ?  come,  confess ;  thou  wouldst 
quickly  consent,  wrap  the  cloak  of  two  colors  around  thee,  and  be  bailiff." 
RubeL     "  Dost  thou  think  so  ?" 
Nick.     "Yes,  I  do  think  so." 

Rubd.     "  We  are  losing  time  chattering  here.     Good-bye,  Nickel." 
Nick.     "  Good-bye,  Rubel." 

CHAPTER  vn. — THE  BAILIFF  BEGINS  SOME  BAILIFF'S  BUSINESS. 

As  soon  as  the  bailiff  entered  the  barber's  room,  he  saluted  him,  and  his  wife, 
•and  the  company,  before  he  seated  himself,  or  made  any  bustle.  Formerly,  he 
used  to  make  a  great  spitting  and  coughing  first,  and  took  no  notice  of  anybody, 
till  he  had  seated  himself. 

The  country  people  answered,  smilingly,  and  put  their  hats  on  again,  much 
sooner  than  they  usually  did,  when  the  bailiff  spoke  to  them.  He  began  the 
conversation  by  saying,  "  Always  good  pay,  Mr.  Barber,  and  so  much  custom ; 
I  wonder  how  you  manage  to  get  through  it,  with  one  pair  of  hands." 

The  barber  was  a  quiet  man,  and  not  in  the  habit  of  replying  to  such  speeches ; 
but  the  bailiff  had  been  teasing  him  with  these  jests  for  several  months  past, 
and  every  Sunday  morning  in  sermon-time ;  and  as  it  happened,  he  took  it  into 
his  head  to  answer  him  for  once,  and  said : 

<;  Mr.  Bailiff,  you  need  not  wonder  how  people  manage  to  work  hard,  with 
one  pair  of  hands,  and  get  little ;  but  it  is,  indeed,  a  wonder  how  some  people 
manage  to  sit  with  their  hands  before  them,  doing  nothing  at  all,  and  yet  get  a 
great  deal." 

Bailiff.  ''True  enough,  barber;  but  thou  shouldst  try.  The  thing  is,  to  keep 
the  hands  still,  in  the  right  way:  then,  money  showers  down  like  rain." 

The  barber  made  another  attempt,  and  said:   ''Nay,  bailiff,  the  way  is,  to 
wrap  one's  self  up  in  a  two-colored  cloak,  and  say  these  three  words :  It  is  so, 
on  my  oath,  It  is  so.     If  the  time  be  well  chosen,  one  may  then  put  two  fingers' 
-up,  three  down — abracadabra!  and  behold  a  bag  full  of  gold." 

This  put  the  bailiff  into  a  passion,  and  he  answered,  "  Thou  art  a  conjuror, 
barber !  but  there  is  no  wonder  in  that.  People  of  thy  trade  always  understand 
witchcraft  and  conjuring." 

This  was  too  sharp  for  the  good  barber,  and  he  repented  having  meddled  with 
-the  bailiff;  so  he  held  his  peace,  and  let  the  others  talk,  and  began  quietly 
lathering  a  man  who  was  sitting  before  him.  The  bailiff  continued,  maliciously : 
"  The  barber  is  quite  a  fine  gentleman,  he  will  not  answer  one  again.  He  wears 
•smart  stockings,  town-made  shoes,  and  ruffles  on  a  Sunday.  He  has  hands  as 
smooth  as  a  squire's,  and  his  legs  are  like  a  town-clerk's." 

The  country  people  liked  the  barber,  had  heard  this  before,  and  did  not  laugh 
at  the  bailiff's  wit. 

Only  young  Galli,  who  was  being  shaved,  could  not  help  smiling  at  the  idea 
of  the  town-clerk's  legs;  for  he  was  just  come  from  the  office,  where  the  jest 
'had  begun ;  but  When  his  face  moved,  the  barber's  razor  cut  his  upper  lip. 

This  vexed  the  people  ;  they  shook  their  heads,  and  old  Uli  took  his  pipe  out 
of  his  mouth,  and  said : 

"  Bailiff,  it  is  not  right  to  disturb  the  barber  in  this  way." 

And  when  the  others  saw  that  old  Uli  was  not  afraid,  and  said  this  boldly, 
they  murmured  still  more  loudly,  and  said:  "Galli  is  bleeding,  nobody  can  be 
•shaved  at  this  rate." 


540  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

"I  nin  sorry  for  what  has  happened,"  said  the  bailiff,  "but  I  will  set  all  to 
rights  again." 

"Boy!  fetch  three  flasks  of  good  wine,  which  heals  wounds  without  needing 
to  be  wanned." 

The  moment  the  bailiff  spoke  of  wine,  the  first  murmur  subsided. 

Some  did  not  believe  that  be  was  in  earnest ;  but  Lonk,  who  was  sitting  in  a. 
corner,  solved  the  riddle,  saying:  "The  bailiffs  wine  was  tapped  yesterday,  in 
the  church-yard." 

The  bailiff,  taking  his  tobacco-box  out  of  his  pocket,  laid  it  on  the  table,  and; 
Christian,  the  ballad-singer,  asked  him  for  a  pipe-full.  He  gave  it  him ;  then 
more  followed  his  example,  and  the  room  was  soon  full  of  the  smoke  of  tins- 
strong  tobacco,  but  the  bailiff  smoked  a  better  kind  himself. 

Meantime  the  barber  and  the  other  neighbors  kept  quiet,  and  made  light  of  it. 

This  disturbed  Master  Urias.  He  went  up  and  down  the  room,  with  his, 
finger  on  his  nose,  as  he  always  did,  when  he  could  not  get  rid  of  his  vexation. 

"It  is  devilish  cold  in  this  room ;  I  can  never  smoke  when  it  is  so  cold,"  said 
he.  So  he  went  out  of  the  room,  gave  the  maid  a  kreuzer  to  make  a  larger  fire, 
and  it  was  soon  warm  enough. 

CHAPTER  vin. — WHEN  THE  WHEELS  ARE  GREASED  THE  WAGON  GOES. 

Now  came  the  brimstoned  wine.  "  Glass«?s,  glasses  here,  Mr.  Barber,"  said 
the  bailiff.  And  the  wife  and  the  boy  soon  brought  plenty. 

All  the  neighbors  drew  near  the  wine  flasks,  and  the  bailiff  poured  out  for  them. 

Now  were  old  Uli.  and  all  the  rest,  content  again ;  and  young  Galli's  wound 
was  not  worth  mentioning.  "  If  the  simpleton  had  only  sat  still,  the  barber 
would  not  have  cut  him." 

By  degrees  they  all  grew  talkative,  and  loud  sounds  of  merriment  arose. 

All  praised  the  bailiff;  and  the  mason,  Leonard,  was  at  one  table  abused  for 
a  lout,  and  at  the  other  for  a  beggar. 

One  told  how  he  got  drunk  every  day,  and  now  played  the  saint ;  another 
said,  "  He  knew  well  why  pretty  Gertrude  went,  instead  of  the  mason,  to  the 
squire  at  the  hall:"  and  another,  "That  he  dreamed,  last  night,  that  the  bailiff 
would  soon  serve  the  mason  according  to  his  deserts." 

As  an  unclean  bird  buries  its  beak  in  the  ditch,  and  feeds  upon  rotten  garbage, 
so  did  Hummel  satiate  his  wicked  heart  oil  the  conversation  of  the  neighbors. 
Yet  it  was  with  great  caution  and  watchfulness  that  he  mingled  in  the  wild  up- 
roar of  the  chattering  drunkards. 

"Neighbor  Richter,"  said  he,  giving  him  a  glass,  "you  were  yourself  at  the 
last  reckoning,  and  are  a  qualified  man.  You  know  that  the  mason  owed  me 
thirty  florins.  It  is  now  half  a  year  since,  and  he  has  not  paid  me  any  part  of  it. 
I  have  never  once  asked  him  for  the  money,  nor  given  him  a  hard  word,  and  yet 
it  is  likely  enough  that  I  shall  lose  every  farthing  of  it." 

"  That  is  clear  enough,"  swore  the  farmers,  "  thou  wilt  never  see  another 
farthing  of  thy  money;"  and  they  poured  out  more  wine. 

But  the  bailiff  took  out  of  his  pocket  book  the  mason's  promissory  note,  laid 
it  on  the  table,  and  said,  "  There  you  may  see  whether  it  be  true,  or  not." 

The  countrymen  looked  over  the  writing,  as  if  they  could  read  it,  and  said^ 
"  He  is  a  rogue,  that  mason." 

And  Christian,  the  ballad-singer,  who,  till  now,  had  been  quietly  swallowing 
down  the  wine,  wiped  his  mouth  with  his  coat  sleeve,  got  up,  raised  his 
and  shouted  out, 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  54 i 

Long  life  to  the  bailiff,  and  away  with  all  firebrands ;"  so  saying,  he  drank  off 
'the  glass,  held  it  to  be  filled,  drank  again,  and  sang : 

"  He  who  digs  another's  grave, 

Into  it,  himself  may  slip  ; 
Who  ne'er  lilts  a  hand  to  save, 

Should  be  careful  not  to  trip. 

"Be  he  lifted  e'er  so  high, 

And  cunning  as  the  deuce  withal, 
He  who  will  still  in  ambush  lie, 
Is  sure,  at  last,  himself  to  fall— 
Himself  to  fall. 
Juhe,  mason  !  juhe  !" 

CHAPTER  ix. — ON  THE  RIGHTS  OF  THE  COUNARY. 

"NOT  so  riotous,  Christian,"  said  the  bailiff;  "that  is  of  no  use.  I  should  be 
very  sorry  if  any  ill  luck  happened  to  the  mason.  I  forgive  him  freely.  He  did 
it  from  poverty.  Still  it  is  hard  that  the  country  must  lose  its  rights." 

The  neighbors  opened  their  ears  when  he  spoke  of  the  country's  rights. 

Some  put  down  their  glasses,  when  they  heard  of  the  country's  rights,  and 
listened. 

"  I  am  an  old  man,  neighbors,  and  it  can  not  signify  much  to  me.  I  have  no 
•children,  and  it  is  almost  over  with  me.  But  you  have  sons,  neighbors;  to 
you,  your  rights  are  of  great  consequence." 

"  Ay  I  our  rights !"  called  out  the  men.  "  You  are  our  bailiff.  Do  not  let  us 
lose  a  hair  of  our  rights." 

Bailiff.  "Yes,  neighbors.  The  landlord's  license  is  a  parish  concern,  and  a 
valuable  one.  "We  must  defend  ourselves." 

Some  few  of  the  men  shook  their  heads,  and  whispered  to  each  other,  "He 
never  looked  after  the  parish  before — he  wants  to  draw  us  into  the  mud  where 
he  is  sticking," 

But  the  majority  shouted  louder  and  louder,  stormed,  and  cursed,  and  swore 
that  to-morrow  there  must  be  a  parish  meeting. 

The  wiser  amongst  them  were  silent,  and  only  said,  quietly,  to  each  other, 
"  We  shall  see  what  they  do  when  the  wine  is  out  of  their  heads." 

Meantime  the  bailiff  kept  prudently  drinking  of  the  colored  water,  and  began 
again  to  rouse  up  the  people  about  their  rights. 

"You  all  know,"  said  he,  "how  our  forefather,  Ruppli,  two  hundred  years 
ago,  had  to  fight  with  the  cruel  ancestors  of  this  .squire.  This  old  Ruppli,  (my 
grandfather  has  told  me  of  it  a  thousand  times,)  had  a  favorite  saying,  'When 
the  squires  welcome  beggars  at  the  hall,  God  help  the  country  people.'  They 
do  it  only  to  make  mischief  amongst  them,  and  then  to  be  masters  themselves. 
Neighbors,  we  are  thus  always  to  be  the  fools  in  the  game." 

Countrymen.  "  Nothing  is  clearer.  We  are  thus  always  to  be  the  fools  in  the 
game." 

Bailiff.  "  When  your  lawyers  can  be  of  no  more  use,  you  are  as  ill  off  as 
soldiers,  who  have  their  retreat  cut  off.  The  new  squire  is  as  sharp  and  cunning 
as  the  devil.  No  man  can  see  through  him ;  and  certainly  he  gives  no  one  a 
good  word  for  nothing.  If  you  knew  but  half  as  much  as  1  do,  there  would  be 
no  need  for  me  to  say  another  word  to  you.  But  you  are  not  quite  blockheads ; 
you  will  take  heed,  and  be  on  your  guard." 

Abi,  to  whom  the  bailiff  was  speaking,  and  to  whom  he  made  a  sign,  answered, 


542  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

"Do  you  think,  bailiff,  that  we  do  not  perceive  his  drift?  He  wants  to  lake  thfr 
landlord's  license  into  his  own  hands." 

Bailiff.     "  You  see  through  it,  do  you?" 

Countrymen.  "Ay,  by  G !  but  we  will  not  allow  it.  Our  children  shall 

have  a  free  tavern,  as  we  have  had." 

AU.  "  He  may  choose  to  make  us  pay  a  ducat  for  a  measure  of  wine ;  and  we 
should  be  false  to  our  own  children." 

Baili/.  "  That  is  going  too  far,  Abi.  He  can  never  make  you  pay  a  ducat  for 
a  measure  of  wine." 

Abi.  "I  don't  know.  The  smith  and  the  cartwright  are  raising  their  prices 
shamefully;  and  even  wood  is  dearer  than  it  has  been  these  fifty  years.  What 
say  you,  bailiff?  As  the  twig  is  bent,  so  grows  the  tree.  How  can  you  tell 
how  high  a  measure  of  wine  may  get,  when  nobody  can  sell  it  but  the  squire  ? 
It  is  devilish  dear  already,  on  account  of  the  duty." 

Bailiff.  "  So  it  is.  There  is  always  some  new  plague  and  difficulty,  and  that 
makes  every  thing  dearer." 

"Yes,  yes,  if  we  will  submit  to  itl"  said  the  men,  shouting  and  roaring,  and. 
threatening.  Their  conversation  became,  at  last,  the  wild  uproar  of  a  set  of 
drunkards,  which  I  can  describe  no  further. 

CHAPTER  x. — THE  BARBER'S  DOG  DRINKS  UP  WATER  AT  AN  UNLUCKY  MOMENT, 

AND  PLAYS  THE   BAILIFF  A   SAD  TRICK. 

MOST  of  them  were,  by  this  time,  pretty  well  intoxicated,  particularly  Chris- 
tian the  ballad-singer,  who  sat  next  the  bailiff;  and,  in  one  of  his  drunken 
huzzas,  knocked  over  the  jug  of  water. 

The  bailiff,  alarmed,  wiped  the  colored  water  off  the  table  as  quickly  as  he 
could,  that  nobody  might  detect  the  cheat.  But  the  barber's  dog,  under  the 
table,  was  thirsty,  and  lapped  the  water  from  the  ground ;  and,  unluckily,  one 
of  the  neighbors,  who  was  looking  sorrowfully  after  the  good  wine  under  the 
table,  observed  that  Hector  licked  it  up. 

"Wonder  and  marks,  bailiff"  said  he,  "how long  have  dogs  drank  wine?" 

"You  fool,  long  enough!"  answered  the  bailiff,  and  made  signs  to  him  with 
his  hands  and  head,  and  pushed  him,  with  his  foot,  under  the  table,  to  be  silent. 
He  kicked  the  dog,  at  the  same  time,  to  drive  him  away.  But  Hector  did  not 
understand  him,  for  he  belonged  to  the  barber.  He  barked,  snarled,  and  lapped 
up  the  colored  water  a  little  further  off.  The  bailiff  turned  pale  at  this ;  for 
many  of  the  others  now  began  to  look  under  the  table,  and  lay  their  heads  to- 
gether, and  point  to  the  dog.  The  barber's  wife  took  up  the  fragments  of  the 
broken  pitcher,  and  smelt  at  them,  and  perceiving  that  it  was  only  water,  shook 
her  head,  and  said,  aloud,  "  This  is  not  right." 

The  men  murmured  all  round;  "There's  something  hidden  under  this;"  and" 
the  barber  told  the  bailiff,  to  his  face,  "Bailiff,  your  fine  wine  is  nothing  but 
colored  water." 

"Is  it  not,  indeed?"  exclaimed  the  men. 

"What  the  devil  is  the  meaning  of  this,  bailiff?     Why  do  you  drink  water?" 

The  bailiff,  confused,  answered,  "  I  am  not  very  well ;  I  am  obliged  to  spare- 
myself." 

But  the  men  did  not  believe  the  answer;  and  right  and  left  they  murmured 
more  and  more;  "There  is  something  wrong  in  this." 

And  now  some  began  to  complain  that  the  wine  had  got  into  their  heads,, 
which  such  a  small  quantity  should  not  have  done. 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  543 

The  two  wisest  amongst  them  got  up,  paid  the  barber,  and  said,  "  good-bye, 
neighbors,"  and  went  to  ward  the  door. 

'•So  soon,  gentlemen  1  Why  do  you  leave  the  company  so  soon?"  said  the 
bailiff 

u  We  have  something  else  to  do,"  answered  the  men,  and  went  out. 

The  barber  accompanied  them  out  of  the  room,  and  said,  "I  wish  the  bailiff 
had  gone  instead  of  you.  He  has  had  no  good  intention,  either  with  the  wine 
or  the  water." 

"So  we  think,  or  we  would  have  staid,"  answered  the  men. 

Barber.     "And  I  can  not  endure  this  drunken  rioting." 

Men.  There  is  no  reason  why  thou  shouldst ;  and  it  may  bring  thee  into  dif- 
ficulties. "  If  I  were  in  thy  place,  I  would  put  an  end  to  it,"  said  the  elder  of 
the  two. 

"I  dare  not  do  that,"  replied  the  barber. 

"Things  are  not  as  they  were,  and  thou  art  master  in  thy  own  house,"  said 
the  men. 

"I  will  follow  your  advice,"  said  the  barber,  and  went  back  into  the  room. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  these  gentlemen,  that  they  are  gone  off  so  sud- 
denly ?  "  said  the  bailiff. 

And  the  barber  answered,  "I  am  of  their  mind.  Such  rioting  is  unseemly 
and  does  not  suit  my  house." 

Bailiff.     "So,  so!  and  is  this  your  answer?" 

Barber.     "Yes,  indeed,  it  is,  Mr.  Bailiff.     I  like  a  quiet  house." 

This  dispute  did  not  please  the  honorable  company. 

"We  will  be  quieter,"  said  one  of  them. 

"We  will  behave  well,"  said  another. 

"Come,  come,  let  us  all  be  friends,"  said  a  third. 

"Bailiff,  another  flask!  "  said  Christian. 

"  Ha,  neighbors  I  I  have  a  room  of  my  own.  We  will  leave  the  barber  in 
peace,"  said  the  bailiff. 

"I  shall  be  very  glad  of  it,"  answered  the  barber. 

"But  the  parish  business  is  forgotten,  and  the  landlord's  rights,  neighbors!" 
said  old  Abi,  who  was  thirsty  yet. 

"Follow  me,  all  who  are  true  men,"  said  the  bailiff,  threateningly, — muttering 
"  donner  and  wetter,"  and  looking  fiercely  round  the  room.  He  said  good-bye  to 
nobody,  and  clapped  the  door  after  him  so  furiously,  that  the  room  shook. 

"  This  is  shameful !  "  said  the  barber. 

"Yes;  it  is  shameful,"  said  many  of  the  men. 

"It  is  not  right,"  said  young  Meyer.  "I,  for  one,  will  not  enter  the  bailiff's 
house." 

"Nor  I,"  added  Laupi. 

"The  devil,  nor  I!"  said  Reynold.  "I  remember  yesterday  morning.  I 
stood  next  to  him  and  Arner,  and  saw  how  it  was." 

The  neighbors  looked  at  each  other,  to  see  what  they  should  do ;  but  most 
of  them  sat  down  again,  and  staid  where  they  were. 

Only  Abi  and  Christian,  and  a  couple  of  blockheads  more,  took  up  the  bailiff's 
empty  cans,  and  went  after  him. 

The  bailiff  was  looking  out  of  his  window,  down  the  street,  which  led  to  the 
oarber's  house,  'and  as  nobody  followed  at  first,  he  was  vexed  at  himself. 

"  What  a  lam©  ox  I  am !     It  is  almost  noon,  and  I  have  done  nothing  yet. 


.544  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

The  wine  is  drunk  and  now  they  laugh  at  me.  I  have  blabbed  to  them  like  a 
child,  and  let  myself  down,  as  if  I  had  been  one  of  them.  Now,  if  I  had  really 
meant  well  by  these  fellows ;  if  I  had  really  desired  to  serve  the  parish ;  or,  if 
I  had  only  kept  up  the  appearance  of  it  a  little  better,  I  should  have  succeeded. 
Such  a  parish  as  this  will  dance  after  any  cunning  piper,  who  can  only  persuade 
them  he  means  well  by  them.  But  times  have  been  only  too  good  for  me.  In 
the  old  squire's  time,  I  led  the  parish  about  like  a  he-goat.  Ever  since  I  nave 
been  bailiff,  it  has  been  my  pastime  and  delight  to  abuse  them,  tease  them,  and 
master  them ;  and  even  now  I  mean  to  do  so  more  than  ever.  But  then,  I  must 
.and  will  keep  them  at  a  distance.  Shaking  hands  and  lowering  one's  self;  ask- 
ing advice,  and  acting  like  everybody's  brother-in-law,  does  not  do,  where  peo 
pie  are  so  well  known.  Such  a  man  as  I  am,  must  quietly  act  for  himself;  only 
employ  such  people  as  he  knows,  and  let  the  parish  alone.  A  herdsman  doea 
.not  ask  advice  of  his  oxen,  and  yet  I  have  been  fool  enough  to  do  so  to-day." 

Now  came  the  men  with  the  empty  cans. 

"Are  you  alone?     Would  not  the  dogs  come  with  you ?" 

"  No,  not  a  man,"  answered  Abi. 

Bailiff.     "  That  is  going  a  good  way." 
•  Christian.     "  I  think  so  too." 

Bailiff.  "I  should  like  to  know  what  they  are  talking  and  consulting  to- 
gether. Christian,  go  and  seek  the  other  cans." 

Christian.     "  There  are  none  left  there." 

Bailiff.  "  Blockhead !  It's  all  one  for  that.  If  thou  findest  none,  get  thyself 
shaved  or  bled,  and  wait  to  listen  to  what  they  say.  If  thou  bringest  me  any 
news,  I  will  drink  with  thee  till  morning.  And  thou,  Loli,  go  to  the  mason's 
old  comrade,  Joseph,  but  take  care  that  no  one  observes  thee,  tell  him  to  come 
to  me  at  noon." 

"Give  me  another  glass  first,  I  am  thirsty,"  said  Loli,  "and  then  I'll  run  like 
.a  greyhound,  and  be  back  again  in  a  twinkling." 

"Very  well,"  said  the  bailiff,  and  gave  him  one. 

These  two  went  off,  and  the  bailiffs  wife  set  some  wine  before  the  others. 

CHAPTER  XL — WELL-LAID  PLOTS  OF  A  ROGUE. 

THE  bailiff  himself  went,  in  some  perplexity,  into  the  next  room,  and  considered 
how  he  should  manage  matters  when  Joseph  came. 

"He  is  faithless,  that  I  may  depend  upon,  and  cunning  as  the  devil.  He  has 
•drunk  away  several  crowns  of  his  master's  money ;  but  my  demand  is  a  great 
one.  He  will  be  afraid,  and  not  trust  me.  It  is  almost  noon.  I  will  offer  him 
as  much  as  ten  crowns.  If  he  will  do  as  I  bid  him,  within  three  weeks  all  the 
plaster  will  fall  off  the  building.  I  shall  not  grudge  ten  crowns,"  said  the  bailiff; 
and  as  he  was  speaking  thus  to  himself,  Loli  arrived,  with  Joseph  behind  him. 
They  did  not  come  together,  that  they  might  excite  less  suspicion. 

"  Good  day,  Joseph !  I  suppose  thy  master  does  not  know  that  thou  art  here." 

Joseph  answered.  "  1!  '•-.  still  at  the  hall,  but  he  will  come  back  at  noon.  If 
I  am  at  work  again  by  ono  o'clock,  he  will  never  miss  me." 

"Very  well.  I  have  something  to  say  to  thee,  Joseph.  "We  must  be  alone," 
said  the  bailiff;  and,  taking  him  into  the  inner  room,  he  shut  the  door  and  bolted 
it.  There  were  bacon,  vegetables,  wine,  and  bread,  upon  the  table.  The  bailiff 
placed  two  chairs  by  the  table,  and  said  to  Joseph,  "Thou  wilt  miss  thy  dinner; 
sit  down  and  eat  it  with  me  " 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  545 

"With  all  my  heart,"  answered  Joseph — sat  down,  and  said,  "Mr.  Bailiflj 
what  is  it  you  want?  I  am  at  your  service." 

The  bailiff  answered,  "To  thy  good  health,  Joseph!"  drank,  and  then  con- 
tinued the  conversation.  "  Try  these  vegetables :  they  are  good.  Why  dost 
thou  not  help  thyself?  Thou  hast  hard  times  enough  with  thy  master." 

Joseph.     "True;  but  it  will  be  better  when  he  has  work  at  the  hall." 

Bailiff.  "Thou  art  a  fool,  Joseph!  Thou  mayest  easily  imagine  how  long 
that  will  last.  I  wish  him  joy  of  it;  but  he  is  not  the  man  for  such  a  thing. 
He  has  never  had  the  management  of  any  thing  of  the  sort ;  but  he  will  trust 
all  to  thee,  Joseph." 

Joseph.     "May  be  so." 

Bailiff.  "  I  foresaw  that,  and  therefore  wished  to  speak  to  thee.  Thou  canst 
do  me  a  great  favor." 

Joseph.  "I  am  all  attention,  Mr.  Bailiff.  Here's  luck  to  my  master,"  (drink- 
ing.) 

"It  shall  not  be  for  nothing,  mason,"  said  the  bailiff,  and  helped  him  again  to 
the  vegetables.  "  I  should  be  very  glad  if  the  foundation  of  the  church,  which 
is  to  be  of  hewn  stone,  were  got  from  the  quarry  at  Schwendi." 

Joseph.  "Potz  blitz,  Mr.  Bailiff!  It  can  never  be!  The  stone  is  bad,  and 
good  for  nothing,  as  a  foundation — " 

Bailiff.  "0  the  stone  is  not  so  bad:  I  have  often  seen  it  used.  It  is  good,  I 
say,  Joseph ;  and  it  would  be  a  great  pleasure  to  me  if  this  quarry  were  to  be 
opened  again." 

Joseph.     "  It  can  not  be  done,  Mr.  Bailiff." 

Bailiff.     "I  will  be  grateful  for  the  service,  Joseph." 

Joseph.     "  The  wall  will  be  down  in  six  years  if  it  be  built  of  this  stone." 

Bailiff.     "  I  can't  hear  that.     That  is  a  foolish  story." 

Joseph.  "  By  G ,  it  is  true !  There  are  two  dung-heaps  next  the  wall,  and 

the  stables  drain  past  it.  The  stone  would  rot  away  like  a  fir  plank." 

Bailiff.  "  After  all,  what  is  it  to  thee,  whether  the  wall  be  good  or  not,  in  ten 
years?  Dost  thou  fear  that  the  squire  can  not  make  a  new  one?  Do  what  I 
say,  and  thou  mayst  expect  a  good  handsome  present." 

Joseph.  "  That  is  all  very  well.  But  what  if  the  squire  should  find  out  that 
the  stone  is  not  good." 

Bailiff.     "  How  should  he  find  it  out  ?     There  is  no  fear  of  that." 

Joseph.  "  He  knows  more  about  things  than  any  body  would  believe.  But 
you  know  him  better  than  I." 

Bailiff.     "He  will  understand  nothing  about  this." 

Joseph.  "  I  almost  think  so  myself;  for  the  stone  looks  very  well  on  the  out- 
side, and  is  very  good  for  some  purposes." 

Bailiff.  "  Give  me  thy  hand  upon  it,  that  thy  master  shall  use  the  stone  out 
of  this  quarry.  If  thou  wilt,  thou  shalt  have  five  crowns  for  thyself." 

Joseph.     "It's  a  good  sum,  if  I  had  only  hold  of  it." 

Bailiff.  "  I  am  in  earnest,  by  G !  I  will  give  thee  five  crowns,  if  thou  wilt 

do  it!" 

Joseph.  "Well,  there  you  have  my  word,  Mr.  Bailiff;  and  he  stretched  out 
his  hand  and  pledged  it  him.  It  shall  be  done,  Mr.  Bailiff.  Why  should  I 
trouble  myself  about  the  squire?" 

Bailiff.  "  One  word  more,  Joseph.  I  have  a  bag  full  of  stuff,  from  an  apothe- 
cary's shop,  which  a  gentleman  gave  me.  They  say,  that  when  it  is  mixed  with 

35 


546  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

the  lime,  the  mortar  sticks  to  a  wall  like  iron.  But  these  gentlemen  are  such/ 
queer  folks,  that  one  can  not  trust  them  about  any  thing.  I  would  rather  not 
try  it  first  on  a  building  of  my  own." 

Joseph.  •'  I  can  manage  that  for  you.  I  will  try  it  on  a  corner  of  a  neighbor's 
house." 

Bailiff'.  "It  is  of  no  use  to  try  it  in  such  a  small  way.  Whether  it  succeeds 
or  fails,  one  is  at  no  certainty.  There  is  no  knowing  how  it  might  do  on  a  larger 
scale.  T  should  like  it  to  be  tried  on  the  church,  Joseph!  can  not  it  be  done?" 

Joseph.     "Is  it  necessary  to  put  much  of  it  into  the  lime?" 

Bailiff.     "I  think  about  two  pounds  to  a  barrel." 

Joseph.     "  Then  it  will  be  easy  enough." 

Bailiff.     "  Wilt  thou  do  it  for  me  ?" 

Joseph.     "Yes,  that  I  will." 

Bailiff.     "And  if  it  should  fail,  say  nothing  about  it?" 

Joseph.  "  It  can  not  fail,  so  as  to  signify ;  and,  of  course,  one  should  say 
nothing  about  it!" 

Bailiff.  "  Thou  wilt  find  the  stuff  at  my  house,  whenever  thou  art  ready  for 
it ;  and  a  glass  of  wine  with  it." 

Joseph.  "  I  will  not  fail,  Mr.  Bailiff.  But  I  must  go  now.  It  has  struck 
one.  Here's  my  thanks  to  you,"  said  he,  taking  up  his  glass. 

Bailiff.  "  Thou  hast  nothing  to  thank  me  for  yet.  Keep  thy  word,  and  thou 
shalt  have  the  five  crowns." 

"I  will  do  my  part,  Mr.  Bailiff,"  said  Joseph,  getting  up  and  putting  by  his 
chair.  "  My  best  thanks  to  you" — and  he  drank  off  his  parting  glass. 

Bailiff.  "  Well,  if  thou  must  go,  good-bye,  Joseph ;  and  remember  our  agree- 
ment" 

Joseph  went  away,  and,  as  he  was  going,  said  to  himself,  "  This  is  a  strange 
fancy  of  his  about  the  stone ;  and  still  stranger  about  the  stuff  in  the  lime.  It's 
a  fine  way  to  try  a  thing,  to  begin  upon  a  church.  But,  at  all  events,  I'll  get 
hold  of  the  money ;  and  I  can  do  as  I  like  afterward." 

"This  has  turned  out  very  well,"  said  the  bailiff  to  himself.  " Better  than  I 
expected,  and  for  half  the  money.  I  should  have  promised  him  ten  crowns,  as 
easily  as  five,  if  he  had  understood  how  to  make  his  bargain.  I  am  well  pleased 
that  the  thing  is  set  a  going.  No,  no !  one  should  never  despair.  0  that  tho 
wall  were  but  already  above  the  ground  !  Well,  patience !  on  Monday  they  will 
begin  to  prepare  the  stone.  Poor  mason  I  Thy  wife  has  cooked  up  a  pretty 
mess  for  thee." 

CHAPTER  xn. — DOMESTIC  -HAPPINESS. 

THE  mason  Leonard,  who  had  gone  up  to  the  hall  early  in  the  morning,  was 
now  come  back  to  his  wife. 

She  had  been  very  busy  in  getting  her  Saturday's  work  done,  against  her 
husband's  return.  She  had  combed  the  children,  made  them  tidy,  mended  their 
clothes,  cleaned  up  the  little  room,  and,  whilst  she  was  at  work,  had  taught 
them  a  song.  "You  must  sing  it  for  your  dear  father,"  said  she;  and  the  chil- 
dren gladly  learned  any  thing  which  would  please  their  father,  when  he  came 
home.  Whilst  they  were  working,  and  without  any  trouble  or  loss  of  time, 
without  book,  they  sang  it  after  her  till  they  knew  it. 

When  their  father  came  home,  the  mother  welcomed  him ;  and  then  she  and 
the  children  sang: 


LEONARD  AM)  GERTRUDE 


547 


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LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 


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Heavenly  guest !  who  hast  the  pow'r— 

Sorrow,  pain,  and  care  controlling, 
O'er  the  suff'rer's  saddest  hour, 

To  throw  a  radiant  beam  consoling: 

Weary  now  of  care  and  riot, 

Ceaseless  changes,  without  rest; 
Heavenly  quiet ! 
'  Come  and  reign  within  my  breast. 

The  tears  came  into  Leonard's  eyes,  as  the  children  and  their  mother  sang  so 
happily  together,  to  welcome  him.  "God  bless  you,  my  darlings!  God  bless 
thee,  my  love!"  said  he  to  them,  with  great  emotion. 

"My  dear  husband,"  answered  Gertrude,  "it  is  heaven  upon  earth  to  seek  for 
peace,  do  what  is  right,  and  wish  for  little." 

Leon.  "If  I  have  ever  enjoyed  an  hour  of  that  happiness  which  peace  of 
mind  brings,  I  owe  it  to  thee.  Till  my  last  moment  I  will  thank  thee  for  saving 
me ;  and  these  children  will  be  grateful  to  thee  for  it,  after  thy  death.  0,  my 
dear  children !  always  do  what  is  right,  and  follow  your  mother,  and  you  will 
prosper." 

G&r.     "  How  cheery  thou  art  to-day,  Leonard!" 

Leon.     "  I  have  gone  on  well  with  Arner." 

Ger.     "  Ah !  God  be  thanked  for  it,  my  dear  husband." 

Leon.  "  He  is  a  man  who  has  not  his  equal.  How  childish  it  was  in  me  to 
be  afraid  of  going  to  him." 

Ger.  "  And  how  wise  we  have  been  at  last,  love.  But  come,  tell  me  how  it 
all  was."  And  as  she  sat  down  by  him,  and  took  out  the  stocking  she  was  knit- 
ting, he  said  to  her: — 

CHAPTER  xin. — A  PROOF  THAT  GERTRUDE  WAS  DEAR  TO  HER  HUSBAND. 

Leonard.  "  IF  thou  sittest  down  in  such  state,  as  thou  dost  to  thy  Bible  on  a 
Sunday  evening,  I  must  prepare  to  tell  thee  a  great  deal." 

Gertrude.     " Every  thing!  thou  must  tell  me  every  thing,  love !" 

Leon.  "  Yes,  if  thou  hadst  time  for  it ;  but,  Gertrude,  dear,  it  is  Saturday, 
when  thou  art  always  so  busy." 

Ger.    (Smiling.)     "Look  about  thee!" 

Leon.     "Ah!  is  every  thing  done  already?" 

Lise.  "  She  has  been  very  busy,  father ;  and  Enne  and  I  have  helped  her  to 
slean  up.  Is  not  that  right  ?" 

"It  is,  indeed,  right,"  answered  the  father 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDF.  549 

"  Bui  now  begin  to  tell  me."  said  Gertrude. 

Leon.  "  Aruer  asked  me  my  father's  name,  and  the  street  where  I  lived,  and 
the  number  of  my  house." 

Ger.     "  0,  thou  art  not  telling  it  right,  Leonard;  I  know  he  did  not  begin  so." 

Leon.     "And  why  not,  darling?     What  w,ouldst  thou  have?" 

Ger.  "  First,  thou  wouldst  make  thy  bow  to  him,  and  he  would  take  notice 
of  thee.  How  did  he  do  that  ?" 

Leon.  "  Thou  little  conjuror ;  thou  art  right.  I  did  not  begin  at  the  begin- 
ning." 

Ger.     "I  told  thee  so,  Leonard." 

Leon.  "Well,  then,  as  soon  as  he  saw  me,  he  asked  whether  I  was  still  afraid 
of  him.  I  made  a  bow,  as  well  as  I  could,  and  said  '  Forgive  me,  gracious  sir.' 
He  smiled,  and  ordered  a  jug  of  wine  to  be  set  before  me." 

Ger.  "  Come  now,  this  is  quite  a  different  beginning.  Well,  wert  thou  ready 
enough  to  drink  the  wine?  no  doubt!" 

Leon.  "  No,  wife,  I  was  as  shamefaced  as  a  young  bride,  and  would  not 
touch  it.  But  he  did  not  let  it  pass  so.  '  I  know  you  can  tell  what  good  wine 
is,'  said  he,  'help  yourself.'  I  poured  out  a  little,  drank  his  health,  and  tasted 
it — but  he  looked  at  me  so  steadily,  that  the  glass  shook  in  my  hand." 

Ger.  "What  it  is  to  have  a  tender  conscience,  Leonard!  It  had  got  into  thy 
fingers.  But  thou  wouldst  recover  thyself,  I  suppose." 

Leon.  "Yes,  very  soon.  He  was  very  kind,  and  said,  'It  is  very  natural 
that  a  man  who  works  hard  should  like  a  glass  of  wine.  It  does  him  good  too. 
But  it  is  a  misfortune  when,  instead  of  taking  one  glass  to  refresh  himself,  he  lets 
wine  make  a  fool  of  him,  and  thinks  no  more  of  his  wife  and  children,  nor  of  his 
old  age.  This  is  a  great  misfortune,  Leonard.' 

Wife !  I  felt  it  strike  through  my  heart  as  he  said  this ;  but  I  took  courage, 
and  answered,  '  That  by  unlucky  circumstances  I  had  got  so  entangled,  that  I 
did  not  know  how  in  the  world  to  help  myself;  and  that  I  had  not,  in  all  that 
time,  drunk  one  glass  with  a  merry  heart.'  " 

Ger.     "  And  didst  thou  really  get  through  all  that?" 

Leon.     "  If  he  had  not  been  so  very  kind,  I  could  not  have  managed  it." 

Ger.     "And  what  did  he  say  next  ?" 

Leon.  "  '  That  it  was  a  misfortune  that  poor  folks,  when  they  were  in  trouble, 
generally  got  hold  of  people  they  should  avoid  as  the  plague.'  I  could  not  help 
sighing ;  and  I  think  he  observed  it,  for  he  went  on,  very  kindly :  '  If  one  could 
only  teach  good  people  this,  before  they  learn  it  by  sad  experience ! — a  poor 
man  is  half  saved,  if  he  can  only  keep  out  of  the  claws  of  these  blood-suckers.' 
Soon  afterward  he  went  on  again :  '  It  goes  to  my  heart,  when  I  think  how  often 
the  poor  will  go  on  suffering  the  greatest  misery,  and  have  not  the  sense  and 
courage  to  tell  their  situation  to  those  who  would  gladly  help  them,  if  they  only 
knew  how  things  were.  It  is  really  unpardonable  to  think  how  you  have  let 
yourself  be  ensnared,  day  after  day,  by  the  bailiff,  and  brought  your  wife  and 
children  into  such  trouble  and  danger,  without  once  coming  to  me,  to  ask  for 
help  and  counsel.  Only  consider,  mason,  what  would  have  been  the  end  of  all 
this,  if  your  wife  had  had  no  more  sense  and  courage  than  you.'  " 

Ger.  "And  did  he  say  all  this  before  he  asked  after  the  number  of  thy 
house  ?" 

Leon.     "Thou  hearest  how  it  was." 

Ger.     "Thou  didst  not  mean  to  tell  me  all  this  in  a  hurry,  didst  thou?" 


050  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

Leon.  "  Why,  indeed,  I  think  it  would  have  been  more  prudent  not.  Thou 
wilt  grow  too  proud  for  me ;  because  thou  hast  had  so  much  courage." 

Ger.  "Thinkest  thou  so,  my  good  master?  Yes,  indeed,  I  will  plume  my 
self  upon  this  as  long  as  I  live ;  and  as  long  as  it  does  us  any  good.  But  what 
said  A rner  besides?" 

Leon.  "He. began  to  examine  me  about  the  building.  It  was  well  I  had  not 
forgotten  every  thing.  I  had  to  reckon  it  all  up  by  measurement,  and  set  down 
every  item  for  carrying  lime,  and  sand,  and  stone." 

Ger.     "  Didst  thou  make  no  mistake  at  all  in  the  reckoning?" 

Leon.     "No;  not  this  time,  love." 

Ger.     "  God  be  thanked  for  it." 

Leon.     "  Yes,  indeed,  God  be  thanked." 

Gtr.     "Is  every  thing  ready  now?" 

Leon.  "Yes;  all  will  very  soon  be  ready.  Guess  now  much  he  has  given 
me  in  hand,  said  he,  (shaking  the  money  in  a  bag.)  It  is  long  since  I  heard  the 
sound  of  so  much  silver.''  Gertrude  sighed. 

Leon.  "Do  not  sigh  now,  my  dear  wile,  we  will  be  prudent  and  saving;  and 
we  shall  certainly  never  come  into  the  same  distress  again." 

Ger.     "God in  heaven  has  helped  us." 

Leon.  "Yes;  and  many  nmre  in  the  village  besides  us.  Only  think;  Arner 
has  chosen  out  ten  fathers  of  families,  who  were  poor  and  in  want,  as  day- 
laborers  at  this  building ;  and  he  gives  each  of  them  twenty-five  kreutzers  a 
day.  Thou  shouldst  have  seen,  Gertrude,  how  carefully  he  chose  them  all  out." 

Ger.     "  0,  tell  me  how  it  all  was  ?" 

Leon.     "Yes;  if  I  could  remember  I  would." 

Ger.     "  Try  what  thou  canst  do,  Leonard." 

Leon.  "Well  then:  he  inquired  after  all  the  fathers  of  families  who  were 
poor ;  how  many  children  they  had ;  how  old  they  were ;  and  what  property  or 
help  they  had.  Then  he  asked  which  were  the  worst  off,  and  had  the  most 
young  children ;  and  said  to  me,  twice  over,  '  If  you  know  of  any  body  else, 
who  is  in  trouble,  as  you  were,  tell  me.'  I  thought  of  Hubel  Rudi,  and  he  has 
now  Work  for  a  year  certain." 

Ger.  "  Thou  didst  very  right  not  to  let  him  suffer  for  having  taken  thy 
potatoes." 

Leon.  "  I  can  never  bear  malice  against  any  poor  man,  Gertrude ;  and  they 
are  terribly  ill  off.  I  met  Rudi,  near  the  potato  hole  two  days  ago,  and  pre- 
tended not  to  see  him.  It  went  to  my  heart,  he  looked  such  a  picture  of  want 
and  misery;  and,  thank  God,  we  have  always  yet  had  something  to  eat." 

Ger.  "  Thou  art  quite  right,  my  dear  husband !  but  still  it  can  not  be  a  help 
to  any  body  to  steal;  and  the  poor  who  do  so,  are  only  doubly  wretched." 

Leon.  "  True ;  but  when  people  are  very  hungry,  and  see  food  before  them, 
and  know  how  much  of  it  must  go  to  waste  in  the  hole,  and  that  even  the  cattle 
have  enough  to  eat ; — 0  Gertrude !  it  is  hard  work  to  let  it  lie  there  and  not 
touch  it." 

Ger.  "It  is  very  hard!  but  the  poor  man  must  learn  to  do  it,  or  he  will  be 
wretched  indeed." 

Leon.     "Oh,  who  could  punish  him  for  it?  who  could  ask  it  of  him  again?" 

Ger.  "God! — He  who  requires  this  from  the  poor  man,  gives  him  strength 
to  do  it,  and  leads  him  on,  through  trouble,  and  want,  and  the  many  sufferings 
of  his  situation,  to  that  self-denial  which  is  required  from  him.  Believe  me, 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  551 

Leonard,  God  helps  the  poor  man  in  secret,  and  gives  him  strength  and  under- 
standing to  bear,  and  to  suffer,  and  to  endure,  what  appears  almost  incredible. 
And,  when  it  is  once  gone  through,  with  an  approving  conscience,  Leonard,  then 
it  brings  happiness,  indeed ;  greater  than  any  one  can  know,  who  has  had  no 
occasion  to  practice  self-denial." 

Leon.  "I  know  it,  Gertrude.  I  know  it  by  what  thou  hast  done.  I  am  not 
blind.  I  have  often  seen  how,  in  the  greatest  need,  thou  couldst  still  trust  in 
God  and  be  content.  But  few  are  like  thee  in  trouble,  and  there  are  many  who, 
like  me,  are  very  weak  creatures,  when  want  and  distress  are  heavy  upon  them ; 
and  therefore  I  always  think,  that  more  should  be  done,  to  provide  all  the  poor 
with  work  and  food.  I  think  too,  that  they  would  then  all  be  better  than  they 
now  are,  in  the  distraction  of  their  poverty,  and  of  their  many  troubles." 

Ger.  "  0  my  love  1  that  is  not  the  state  of  the  case.  If  nothing  were  want- 
ing but  work  and  gain,  to  make  the  poor  happy,  they  would  be  easily  helped. 
But  it  is  not  so.  Both  rich  and  poor  must  have  their  hearts  well  regulated 
before  they  can  be  happy.  And  more  arrive  at  this  end,  by  means  of  trouble 
and  care,  than  through  rest  and  joy.  If  it  were  not  so,  God  would  willingly  let 
us  all  have  joys  in  abundance.  But  since  men  can  only  know  how  to  bear 
x  "osperity,  and  rest,  and  joy,  when  their  hearts  have  been  trained  to  much  self- 
denial,  and  are  become  steadfast,  firm,  patient,  and  wise,  it  is  clearly  necessary 
that  there  should  be  much  sorrow  and  distress  in  the  world ;  for  without  it,  few 
men  can  bring  their  hearts  into  due  regulation,  and  to  inward  peace ;  and,  if 
these  be  wanting,  a  man  may  have  work  or  no  work,  he  may  have  abundance  or 
not,  it  is  all  one.  The  rich  old  Meyer  has  all  he  wants,  and  spends  every  day  in 
the  tavern :  but  for  all  that,  he  is  no  happier  than  a  poor  man  who  has  nothing, 
works  hard  all  day,  and  can  only  now  and  then  have  a  glass  of  wine  in  a  corner." 
Leonard  sighed.  Gertrude  was  silent  for  a  short  time.  Then  she  continued : 
"  Hast  thou  seen  whether  the  men  are  at  work  ?  I  should  tell  thee,  that  Joseph 
has  again  slipped  away  to  the  tavern." 

Leon.  "  That  looks  ill !  I  am  sure  the  bailiff  must  have  sent  for  him.  He 
goes  on  very  strangely.  Before  I  came  home,  I  went  to  them  at  their  work, 
when  he  was  just  come  back  from  the  tavern ;  and  what  he  said  made  me  un- 
easy. It  is  not  his  own  thought  then." 

Ger.     "  "What  was  it  ?" 

Leon.  "  He  said  the  stone  out  of  the  quarry  at  Schwendi  was  excellent  for 
the  church  wall ;  and  when  I  told  him  the  great  flint  stones,  which  lay  near  in 
heaps,  were  much  better,  he  said,  '  I  should  always  be  a  fool,  and  not  know  my 
own  business.  The  wall  would  be  much  better  and  handsomer  of  Schwendi 
stone.'  I  thought,  at  the  time,  he  said  it  with  a  good  intention.  But  he  began 
so  suddenly  about  the  stone,  that  it  seemed  very  strange ;  and  if  he  has  been 
with  the  bailiff, — there  is  certainly  something  more  in  it  The  Schwendi  stone 
is  soft  and  sandy,  and  not  fit  for  such  work.  If  it  should  be  a  snare  laid  for 
me!"— 

Ger.     "  Joseph  is  not  a  man  to  depend  upon,  be  careful  about  him." 

Leon.  "They  will  not  take  me  in,  this  time.  The  squire  will  have  no  sand- 
stone in  the  wall." 

Ger.     "Why  not?" 

Leon.  "  He  says  that  sandstone  where  there  are  dung  heaps  and  stable 
drainage  will  decay,  and  be  eaten  up  with  saltpetre." 

Ger.     "  Is  that  true  ?" 


552  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

Leon.  "Yes.  When  I  was  from  home  once,  I  worked  at  a  building, 
where  they  were  obliged  to  take  away  a  very  good  foundation  of  this  kind  of 
stone." 

Ger.     "To  think  of  his  understanding  it  so  well!" 

Leon.  "I  was  surprised  myself;  but  he  understands  a  great  many  things. 
He  asked  me  where  the  best  sand  was.  I  said,  near  the  lower  mill.  '  That  is 
very  far  to  fetch  it,  and  up  the  hill  too,'  answered  he:  'We  must  be  careful  of 
men  and  cattle.  Do  you  not  know  of  any  nearer?'  I  said,  there  certainly  was 
very  good  sand  in  a  meadow  near  the  church ;  but  it  was  private  property,  and 
we  should  have  to  pay  for  the  hole ;  and  could  go  no  way  but  through  the 
meadow,  where  we  must  make  a  road.  '  There  is  no  harm  in  that,'  said  he.  '  It 
is  better  than  fetching  sand  from  the  mill.'  I  must  tell  thee  one  thing  more : 
As  he  was  speaking  of  the  sand,  a  servant  came  from  the  squire  of  Oberhofen, 
and  I  thought  then,  that  I  ought  to  say  I  would  not  detain  him,  but  come  another 
time.  He  laughed,  and  said :  '  No,  mason,  I  like  to  finish  what  I  am  about ;  and 
when  I  have  done,  I  see  what  any  body  else  wants  from  me.  But  it  is  like  you, 
to  be  taking  leave.  It  is  a  part  of  your  old  ways,  which  you  must  give  up — to- 
be  so  ready  at  every  opportunity  to  leave  your  business  and  work.' 

"I  looked  like  a  fool,  wife;  and  heartily  wished  I  had  kept  my  tongue  quiet,, 
and  npt  said  a  word  about  coming  another  time.'  " 

"It  was  partly  thy  own  fault,  indeed  1"  said  Gertrude;  and  at  that  moment 
somebody  called  out  at  the  door:  "  Holla  I  is  nobody  at  home?" 

CHAPTER  xiv. — MEAX  SELFISHNESS. 

THE  mason  opened  the  door,  and  Margaret,  the  sexton's  daughter-in-law,  and 
the  bailiff's  niece,  came  into  the  room.  As  soon  as  she  had  very  slightly  saluted 
the  mason  and  his  wife,  she  said  to  him :  "  You  will  not  be  for  mending  our  old 
oven,  now,  I  suppose,  Leonard!" 

Leonard.     "Why  not,  neighbor?     Does  it  want  any  thing  done  to  it?" 

Margaret.  "  Not  just  now.  I  only  ask  in  time,  that  I  may  know  what  to 
trust  to." 

Leon.  "You  are  very  careful  Margaret;  but  there  was  no  great  need  to  bfr 
afraid." 

Marg.     "Ay!  but  times  change,  and  people  with  them." 

Leon.  "  Very  true.  But  one  may  always  find  plenty  of  people  to  mend  an 
oven." 

Marg.     "  That  is  some  comfort,  at  all  events." 

Gertrude,  who  had  been  silent  all  this  time,  took  up  the  cleaver  to  cut  some 
hard  rye-bread  for  supper. 

"That  is  but  black  bread,"  said  Margaret;  "but  you  will  soon  have  better,  as 
your  husband  is  become  builder  to  the  squire." 

"  You  talk  foolishly,  Margaret.  I  shall  be  thankful  if  I  have  enough  of  bread 
like  this,  all  my  life;"  said  Gertrude. 

Marg.  "But  white  bread  is  better;  and  you  will  find  it  so.  You  will  now 
be  a  bailiff's  wife,  and  your  husband,  Mr.  Bailiff;  but  it  will  be  a  bad  thing  for 
us." 

Leon.  "What  do  you  mean  by  your  sneers?  I  like  people  to  speak  out;  if 
they  have  any  thing  on  their  minds,  and  dare  say  it." 

Marg.  "  Ay,  mason !  and  I  dare  say  it,  if  it  comes  to  that.  My  husband  is 
the  sexton's  son,  and  since  the  church  was  first  built,  it  was  never  heard  of  be- 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  553 

fore,  but  that  his  people  had  the  preference,  when  there  was  any  thing  to  be 
done  at  it!" 

Leon.     "Well!  what  more?" 

Marg.  "Why,  now,  at  this  very  moment,  the  bailiff  has  a  list  hi  his  house, 
m  which  more  than  a  dozen  blockheads,  out  of  the  village,  are  marked  out  to 
work  at  the  building  of  the  church,  and  there  is  not  a  word  said  of  the  sexton's 
people." 

Leon.     "  But,  neighbor !  what  have  I  to  do  with  it  ?     Did  I  write  out  the  list  ?" 

Mury.     "No,  you  did  not  write  it  out,  but  I  suppose  you  dictated  it." 

Leon.  "It  would  be  a  fine  thing  for  me,  indeed,  to  dictate  his  own  list  to  the 
squire." 

Marg.  "  0 !  we  all  know  that  you  go  every  day  to  the  hall ;  and  you  have 
certainly  been  there  again  to-day;  and  if  you  had  only  told  him  how  it  was  be- 
fore, things  would  have  gone  on  in  the  old  way. 

Leon.  "You  are  mistaken,  Margaret,  if  you  think  so.  Arner  is  not  the  man 
to  let  things  go  on  in  the  old  way,  if  he  can  mend  them  by  a  new  one." 

Marg.     "We  see  how  it  is!" 

Leon.     "  And  he  means  to  help  the  poor  and  needy,  by  giving  them  work." 

Marg.     "Yes!  he  means  to  help  all  the  blockheads  and  beggarly  rabble." 

Leon.  "  All  poor  folks  are  not  rabble,  Margaret ;  and  it  is  not  right  to  talk 
so.  No  one  knows  what  may  happen  to  himself  before  he  dies." 

Marg.  "No;  and  therefore  everybody  should  look  after  his  own  bread;  and  | 
it  is  no  wonder  we  are  troubled  to  be  so  forgotten." 

Leon.  "Ah,  Margaret !  it  is  a  very  different  thing.  You  have  good  property, 
and  live  with  your  father,  who  has  the  best  situation  in  the  village ;  and  you 
have  no  need  to  work  for  your  bread  like  us  poor  folks." 

Marg.  "You  may  say  what  you  will:  every  one  is  vexed  when  he  thinks  a 
thing  belongs  to  him,  and  another  dog  comes  and  snatches  it  out  of  his  mouth." 

Leon.  "  Don't  talk  of  dogs,  Margaret,  when  you  are  speaking  of  men,  or  you 
may  find  one  that  will  bite  you.  But  if  you  think  the  situation  belongs  to  you, 
you  are  young  and  strong,  and  a  rare  talker;  you  can  manage  your  own  affair, 
and  take  it  to  the  place  where  you  may  be  helped  to  your  right." 

Marg.     "Many  thanks,  Mr.  Mason,  for  your  fine  piece  of  advice." 

Leon.     "  I  can  give  you  none  better." 

Marg.  "  One  may  find  an  opportunity  to  remember  the  service.  Farewell, 
Leonard." 

Leon.     "  Farewell,  Margaret.     It  is  all  I  can  do  for  you." 

Margaret  went  away,  and  Leonard  to  his  men." 

CHAPTER  xv. — THE  WISE  GOOSE  LAYS  AN  EGG;  OR,  A  BLUNDER  WHICH  COSTS 

A   GLASS  OF  WINE. 

LEONARD  had  no  sooner  left  the  hall,  than  Arner  sent  the  list  of  day-laborers 
which  he  had  written  out,  by  Flink,  his  huntsman,  to  the  bailiff,  with  orders  to 
give  them  all  notice. 

The  huntsman  brought  the  list  to  the  bailiff  before  nbon ;  but  formerly,  all 
the  writings  which  came  from  the  hall,  were  directed  "  To  the  honorable  and 
discreet,  my  trusty  and  well-beloved  Bailiff  Hummel  in  Bonnal,"  and  on  this, 
there  was  only,  "  To  the  Bailiff  Hummel  in  Bonnal." 

"What  is  that  damned  Spritzer,  the  secretary,  about,  that  he  does  not  give 
me  my  right  title  ?"  said  the  bailiff  to  Flink,  as  he  took  the  letter. 


554  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

But  the  huntsman  answered:  "Take  care,  bailiff,  what  you  say.  The  squire 
directed  the  letter  himself." 

Bailiff.  "  That's  not  true.  I  know  the  writing  of  that  powdered  beggar  the 
secretary  1" 

Flink  shook  his  head,  and  said:  "You  are  a  bold  man.  I  saw  the 
squire  write  it,  with  my  own  eyes,  and  I  stood  by  him  in  the  room  whilst  he 
did  it." 

Bailiff.  "  Then  I  have  made  a  damned  blunder,  Flink !  The  words  escaped 
me.  Forget  them,  and  come  into  the  house,  and  drink  a  glass  of  wine  with  me." 

"  Take  care  the  next  time,  bailiff!  I  don't  like  to  make  mischief,  and  will 
pass  it  over  for  once,"  said  Flink,  going  with  the  bailiff  into  the  house.  He  set 
his  short  gun  in  a  corner,  drank  one  glass,  and  then  went  away. 

The  bailiff  opened  the  paper,  read  it,  and  said:  "These  are  all  mere  block- 
heads and  beggars,  from  first  to  last.  Donner!  what  a  business  this  is!  Xot 
one  of  my  own  people,  except  Michael.  I  am  not  even  to  recommend  a  day- 
laborer  to  him !  And  here  I  am  to  give  them  ail  notice  to-day.  It  will  be  hard 
work  for  me — but  I  will  do  it.  It  is  not  evening  all  day  long.  Truly,  I  will 
tell  them  of  it,  and  advise  them  all  to  go  on  Monday  to  the  hall,  to  return  thanks 
to  the  squire.  He  does  not  know  one  of  these  fellows.  It  must  be  the  ninnm 
who  has  recommended  them  to  him.  When  they  arrive  at  the  hall,  on  Monday, 
all  in  tatters,  some  without  shoes,  others  without  hats,  and  stand  before  the 
squire,  I  shall  wonder  if  he  does  not  say  something  I  can  turn  to  use."  Thus 
he  laid  his  plans,  dressed  himself,  and  took  up  the  list  to  see  how  they  lay  near 
each  other,  that  he  might  not  go  roundabout. 

Hubel  Rudi  was  not  the  next  to  him;  but  ever  since  he  had  gained  the 
meadow  from  his  father  by  a  lawsuit,  he  kept,  as  much  as  he  could,  away  from 
his  house,  on  account  of  certain  uneasy  thoughts  which  occurred  to  him,  when 
•he  saw  these  poor  people.  "  I  will  go  first  to  these  folks,"  said  he,  and  went  up 
to  their  window. 

CHAPTER  xvi. — THE  DEATH-BED. 

HUBEL  RUDI  was  sitting  with  his  four  children.  It  was  only  three  months 
sinoe  his  wife's  death,  and  now  his  mother  lay  dying  upon  a  bed  of  straw,  and 
said  to  Rudi:  "I  wish  thou  wouldst  collect  some  leaves  this  afternoon,  to  put 
•into  my  coverlid ;  I  am  very  cold." 

Rudi.     "  Oh,  mother!  as  soon  as  ever  the  fire  in  the  oven  is  put  out,  I  will  go." 

Mother.  "Hast  thou  any  wood  left,  Rudi?  I  think  not.  for  thou  canst  not 
leave  me  and  the  children,  to  go  into  the  forest — alas,  Rudi,  I  am  a  burthen  to 
thee!" 

Rudi.  "  My  dear  mother,  do  not  say  that  thou  art  a  burthen  to  me !  Oh,  if 
I  could  only  give  thee  what  thou  hast  need  of!  Thou  art  hungry  and  thirsty, 
and  makest no  complaint.  It  goes  to  my  heart,  mother!" 

Mother.  "Do  not  make  thyself  unhappy,  Rudi.  Thanks  be  to  God,  my  pain 
is  not  severe — he  will  soon  relieve  it,  and  my  blessing  will  repay  thee  what  thou 
hast  done  for  me." 

Rudi.  "  0  mother,  my  poverty  was  never  such  a  trouble  to  me  as  wow,  when 
I  can  give  thee  nothing,  and  do  nothing  for  thee.  Alas!  thou  sufferest  from 
sickness  and  misery,  and  sharest  my  wants." 

Mother.  "When  we  draw  near  our  end,  we  want  little  on  earth,  and  what  \\  v 
do  want,  our  heavenly  Father  supplies.  I  thank  him,  Rudi ;  for  he  srrengtheus 
me  in  my  approaching  hour." 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  555 

R-udi.  (Weeping.)  "Dost  them  think  then,  mother,  that  thou  wilt  not 
recover  ? " 

Mother.  "Never,  Rudi!  it  is  most  certain." 

Rudi.     "  Gracious  heaven  I  " 

Mother.     "  Take  comfort,  Rudi !  I  go  into  a  better  life." 

Rudi.     (Sobbing.)     Alas,  alas!" 

Mother.  "Do  not  grieve,  Rudi!  Thou  hast  been  the  joy  of  my  youth,  and 
the  comfort  of  my  old  age.  And  now  I  thank  God  that  thy  hand  will  soon  close 
my  eyes !  Then  shall  I  go  to  God,  and  I  will  pray  for  thee,  and  all  will  be  well 
with  thee  for  ever.  Think  of  me,  Rudi.  All  the  sufferings  and  all  the  troubles 
of  this  life,  if  they  are  well  borne,  end  in  good,  All  I  have  undergone  comforts 
me,  and  is  as  great  a  blessing  to  me,  as  any  of  the  pleasures  and  joys  of  life. 
I  thank  God  for  the  gladsome  days  of  my  childhood ;  but  when  the  fruit  of  life 
ripens  for  harvest,  and  when  the  tree  drops  its  leaves  before  its  winter  sleep, — 
then  are  the  sorrows  of  life  hallowed,  and  its  joys  but  as  a  dream.  Think  of 
me,  Rudi ! — all  thy  sufferings  will  end  in  good." 

Rudi.     "  Oh,  mother  1  dear  mother !  " 

Mother.     "  Yet,  one  thing  more,  Rudi." 

Rudi.     "What,  mother?" 

Mother.  "  Ever  since  yesterday  it  has  lain  like  a  stone  on  my  heart.  I  must 
tell  thee  of  it,  Rudi." 

Rudi.     "  What  is  it,  dear  mother  ?  " 

Mother.  "  Yesterday  I  saw  our  little  Rudeli  creep  behind  my  bed,  and  eat 
roasted  potatoes  out  of  his  bag.  He  gave  some  to  his  sisters,  and  they  also  ate 
these  potatoes,  which  must  have  been  stolen.  Rudi,  they  could  not  be  ours ! — 
or  the  boy  would  have  thrown  them  upon  the  table,  and  called  his  sisters  loud- 
ly ;  and  he  would  have  brought  me  some  of  them,  as  he  had  done  a  thousand 
times  before.  Oh,  how  it  used  to  gladden  my  heart,  when  he  flew  towards  me 
with  something  in  his  hand,  and  said,  so  fondly  to  me :  "  Eat,  eat,  grandmother?  " 
Rudi,  if  this  darling  child  should  become  a  thief  1  0,  this  thought  has  been  a 
sad  weight  upon  me  since  yesterday.  Where  is  he  ?  bring  him  to  me — I  will 
speak  to  him." 

Rudi  ran  quickly,  sought  the  boy  and  brought  him  to  his  mother's  bed-side. 

The  mother,  with  great  difficulty,  raised  herself  up,  for  the  last  time,  turned 
toward  the  boy,  took  both  his  hands  in  hers,  and  bent  forward  her  weak,  dying 
head. 

The  little  fellow  wept  aloud.  "Grandmother!  what  is  it  you  wish?  you  are 
.not  dying  yet !  0,  do  not  die  yet,  grandmother." 

She  answered  in  broken  words:  "Yes,  Rudeli,  I  must  certainly  die  very 
soon." 

"  0  my  God!  do  not  die,  grandmother,"  said  the  boy. 

'The  sick  woman  lost  her  breath,  and  was  obliged  to  lie  down  again. 

The  boy  and  his  father  burst  into  tears — but  she  soon  recovered  herself,  and 
said : 

"  I  am  better  again,  now  that  I  lie  down." 

And  Rudeli  said :   "  And  you  will  not  then  die  now,  grandmother  ?  " 

Mother.  "Say  not  so,  my  darling!  I  die  willingly;  and  shall  then  go  to  a 
kind  father !  If  thou  couldst  know,  Rudeli,  how  happy  I  am,  that  I  shall  soon 
go  to  Him,  thou  wouldst  not  be  so  sorrowful." 

Rudeli.     "I  will  die  with  you,  grandmother,  if  you  must  die!  " 


556  LEONARD  4.ND  GERTRUDE. 

Mother.  "No,  Rudeli,  them  must  not  die  with  me.  If  it  be  the  will  of  (Jod,. 
thou  must  live  a  long  time  yet,  and  grow  up  to  be  a  good  man ;  and  when  thy 
lather  is  old  and  weak,  thou  must  be  his  help  and  comfort.  Tell  me,  Rudeli, 
wilt  thou  follow  after  him,  and  be  a  good  man,  and  do  what  is  right  ?  Promise 
me  thou  wilt,  my  love  I" 

Ruddi.     "Yes,  grandmother,  I  will  do  what  is  right,  ancllbllow  after  him." 

Mother.  "  Rudeli,  our  Father  in  heaven,  to  whom  I  am  going,  sees  and  hears 
all  that  we  do,  and  what  we  promise.  Tell  me,  Rudeli,  dost  thou  know  this, 
and  dost  thou  believe  it  ?" 

Rudeli.     "Yes,  grandmother  I     I  know  it,  and  I  believe  it." 

Mother.  "  But  why  didst  thou  then  eat  stolen  potatoes,  yesterday,  behind  my 
bed?" 

Rudeli.  "  Forgive  me  this  once,  grandmother ;  I  will  never  do  so  again.  For- 
give me  1  I  will  certainly  never  do  so  again,  grandmother." 

Mother.     "  Didst  thou  steal  them  ?" 

Rudeli.     (Sobbing.)     "Yes,  grandmother,  I  did!" 

Mother.     "  From  whom  didst  thou  steal  them  ?" 

Rudeli.     "From  the  ma — ma — son." 

MotJier.     "  Thou  must  go  to  him  Rudeli,  and  beg  him  to  forgive  thee." 

Rudeli.     "  0,  grandmother,  for  God's  sake  I  I  dare  not." 

Mother.  "  Thou  must  Rudeli  1  that  thou  mayst  not  do  so  another  time.  Thou 
must  go,  without  another  word  1  and  for  heaven's  sake,  my  dear  child,  if  thou 
art  ever  so  hungry,  never  take  any  thing  again.  God  will  not  forsake  any  of 
us.  He  provides  for  all.  0,  Rudeli,  if  thou  art  ever  so  hungry,  if  thou  hast  no 
food,  and  knowest  of  none,  yet  trust  in  God,  and  do  not  steal  any  more." 

Rudeli.  "  Grandmother,  I  will  never  steal  again.  If  I  am  hungry,  I  will 
never  steal  again." 

Mother.  "  Then  may  the  God,  in  whom  I  trust,  bless  thee,  and  keep  thee,  my 
darling  1"  She  pressed  him  to  her  heart,  wept,  and  said :  "  Thou  must  now  go  to 
the  mason,  and  beg  his  pardon ;  and,  Rudi,  do  thou  also  go  with  him,  and  tell 
the  mason,  that  I  too  beg  his  pardon ;  and  that  I  am  very  sorry  I  can  not  give 
him  back  the  potatoes.  Tell  him  I  will  pray  for  the  blessing  of  God  upon  what 
he  has  left,  I  am  so  grieved !  They  have  so  much  need  of  all  they  have — and 
if  his  wife  did  not  work  so  hard,  day  and  night,  they  could  not  possibly  maintain 
their  own  large  family.  Rudi,  thou  wilt  willingly  work  a  couple  of  days  for 
him,  to  make  it  up." 

Rudi.     "I  will,  indeed,  dear  mother,  with  all  my  heart." 

As  he  spoke,  the  bailiff  tapped  at  the  window." 

CHAPTER  xvn. — THE  SICK  WOMAN'S  BEHAVIOR. 

AND  the  sick  woman  knew  him  by  his  cough,  and  said:  "  0  Rudi!  here  is  the 
bailiff! — I  am  afraid  the  bread  and  butter  thou  art  preparing  for  me  are  not  paid 
for." 

Rudi.  "  For  heaven's  sake,  do  not  distress  thyself,  mother.  It  is  of  no  conse- 
quence. I  will  work  for  him ;  and,  at  harvest  time,  reap  for  him,  as  much  as  he 
likes," 

"  Alas!  he  will  not  wait,"  said  the  mother;  and  Rudi  went  out  of  the  room 
to  the  bailiff. 

The  sick  woman  sighed  to  herself,  and  said:  "Since  this  affair  of  ours,  God 
forgive  him,  the  poor  blinded  creature.  T  never  see  him  without  a  pang.  And  to- 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  557 

•think  that,  at  my  last  hour,  he  must  come  and  talk  under  my  window.  It  is  the 
will  of  God  that  I  should  forgive  him,  entirely  and  immediately,  and  overcome 
my  last  resentment,  and  pray  for  his  soul — and  I  will  do  so." 

"0  God,  thou  hast  overruled  the  whole  affair.  Forgive  him,  Father  in 
heaven,  forgive  him."  She  heard  the  bailiff  talking  loudly,  and  started.  "  Alas ! 
le  is  angry!  0  my  poor  Rudi!  it  is  owing  to  me  that  thou  art  in  his  power!" 
Again  she  heard  his  voice,  and  fainted  away. 

Rudeli  sprang  out  of  the  room  to  his  father,  and  called  him :  "  Father,  come, 
come !  I  think  my  grandmother  is  dead." 

And  Rudi  exclaimed:   "Gracious  heaven!    Bailiff,  I  must  go  into  the  room." 

"Much  need  of  that,"  said  the  bailiff.  "It  will  be  a  great  loss,  truly,  if  the 
old  witch  should  be  gone  at  last." 

Rudi  heard  not  what  he  said,  but  rushed  into  the  room. 

The  sick  woman  soon  recovered  herself,  and  as  she  opened  her  eyes,  she  said : 
'•Is  he  angry,  Rudi?  I  am  sure  he  will  not  wait." 

Rudi.  "No,  indeed,  mother!  It  is  some  very  good  news.  But  art  thou  quite 
•recovered  ?" 

"Yes!"  said  the  mother,  and  looked  at  him  very  earnestly  and  mournfully, — 
"  What  good  news  can  this  man  bring?  what  dost  thou  say  ?  Dost  thou  wish 
to  comfort  me,  and  to  suffer  alone  ?  He  has  threatened  thee." 

Rudi.  "I  do  assure  thee  it  is  not  so,  mother.  He  has  told  me  that  I  am  to 
be  a  day-laborer,  at  the  building  of  the  church,  and  the  squire  pays  every  man 
twenty-five  kreutzers  a  day,  wages." 

Mother.     "Lord  God!  Can  this  be  true?" 

Rudi.  "  Yes,  mother,  it  is  indeed !  And  there  is  work  for  more  than  a  whole 
year." 

Mother.  "  Now  I  shall  die  more  easy,  Rudi.  Great  God,  thou  art  merciful ! 
0,  be  so  to  the  end!  And,  Rudi,  be  thou  sure,  that  the  greater  our  want,  the 
nearer  is  his  help." 

She  was  silent  for  a  while,  and  then  said  again,  "  I  believe  it  is  all  over  with 
me !  my  breath  grows  shorter  every  moment — we  must  part,  Rudi — I  will  take 
lea/e  of  thee." 

Rudi  trembled,  shuddered,  took  off  his  cap,  and  knelt  down  by  his  mother's 
•bed,  folded  his  hands,  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven,  and  tears  and  sobs  choked  his 
speech. 

Then  said  his  mother:  "Take  courage,  Rudi!  I  trust  in  an  eternal  life, 
where  we  shall  meet  again.  Death  is  a  moment  which  passes  away — I  do  not 
fear  it — I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth,  and  that  he  shall  stand  at  the  latter 
•day  upon  the  earth:  and  though,  after  my  skin,  worms  destroy  this  body,  yet  in 
my  flesh  shall  I  see  God :  whom  I  shall  see  for  myself,  and  mine  eyes  shall  be- 
hold, and  not  another." 

Rudi  had  now  recovered  himself,  and  said:  "Give  me  thy  blessing,  mother! 
If  it  be  the  will  of  God,  may  I  soon  follow  thee  to  eternal  life." 

Then  said  his  mother:  "Hear  me,  heavenly  Father,  and  grant  thy  blessing 
upon  my  child  !  Upon  this,  the  only  child  whom  thou  hast  given  me,  and  who 
•  is  so  dear  to  me!  Rudi,  may  my  God  and  Saviour  be  with  thee,  and  as  he 
showed  mercy  unto  Isaac  and  Jacob,  for  their  father  Abraham's  sake,  so  may  he 
show  mercy  unto  thee,  abundantly,  for  the  sake  of  my  blessing ;  that  thy  heart 
may  rejoice  and  be  glad,  and  praise  his  name." 

"Hear  me  now,  Rudi!  and  do  as  I  say.     Tcjich  thy  children  regularity  and 


058  LEONARD  AM)  (JKKTKl  Dlv 

industry,  that  they  may  never  come  to  want,  nor  grow  disorderly  and  idle 
Teach  them  to  hope  and  trust  in  Almighty  God,  and  to  be  kind  to  each  other  in 
joy  and  in  sorrow.  So  will  it  be  well  with  them,  even  in  poverty. 

"  Forgive  the  bailiff;  and,  when  I  am  dead  and  buried,  go  to  him,  and  tell 
him  that  I  die  in  charity  with  him,  'and  if  God  hears  my  prayer,  he  will  yet  do 
well  and  come  to  the  knowledge  of  himself,  before  he  must  depart  hence." 

After  a  pause,  the  mother  said  again:  "Rudi,  give  me  my  two  bibles,  my 
prayer-books,  and  a  paper,  which  is  lying  under  my  handkerchief,  in  a  little 
box." 

And  Rudi  rose  from  his  knees  and  brought  them  all  to  his  mother. 

Then  she  said :  "  Now  bring  all  the  children  to  me.''  He  brought  them  from 
the  table,  where  they  were  sitting  weeping,  and  they  all  knelt  down  by  her  bed- 
side. 

Then  she  said  to  them:  "Weep  not  so,  my  children!  your  heavenly  Father 
will  support  and  bless  you — you  are  very  dear  to  me,  and  I  grieve  to  leave  you 
so  poor,  and  without  a  mother.  But  hope  in  God,  and  trust  in  him,  whatever 
ma}''  befall  you ;  so  will  you  always  find  in  him,  more  than  a  father's  help,  or  a 
mother's  kindness.  Remember  me,  my  darlings  I  I  have  nothing  to  leave  you, 
but  I  have  loved  you  tenderly,  and  I  know  that  you  love  me  also.  My  bibles 
and  my  prayer-books  are  almost  all  I  have  left,  but  do  not  think  them  trifles, 
my  children ! — They  have  comforted  and  cheered  me,  a  thousand  times,  in  my 
troubles.  Let  the  word  of  God  be  also  your  comfort  and  your  joy;  and  love 
one  another;  and  help  and  advise  one  another,  as  long  as  you  live;  and  be 
honest,  true,  kind,  and  obliging,  to  all  men — so  will  you  pass  well  through  life. 

"  And  thou,  Rudi,  keep  the  great  bible  for  Betheli,  and  the  smaller  one  for 
Rudeli ;  and  the  two  prayer-books  for  the  little  ones,  for  a  remembrance  of  me. 

"  I  have  nothing  for  thee,  Rudi !  but  thou  needest  no  remembrance  of  me — 
thou  wilt  not  forget  me." 

Then  she  called  Rudeli  again  to  her:  "  Give  me  thy  hand,  my  dear  child !  Be 
sure  thou  never  stealest  again." 

"  No  indeed,  grandmother,  believe  me !  I  will  never  take  any  thing  from  any 
body  again,"  said  Rudeli,  with  burning  tears. 

"And  I  do  believe  thee,  and  will  pray  to  God  for  thee,"  said  the  mother. 
"See,  my  love,  I  give  thy  father  a  paper  which  the  pastor,  with  whom  I  lived 
servant,  gave  me.  When  thou  art  older  read  it,  and  think  of  me,  and  be  good 
and  true." 

It  was  a  certificate  from  the  late  pastor  of  Eichstatten,  that  Catharine,  the 
sick  woman,  had  served  him  ten  years,  and  helped  him,  indeed,  to  bring  up  his 
children,  after  the  death  of  his  wife ;  that  all  had  been  intrusted  to  Catharine ; 
and  that  she  had  looked  after  every  thing  most  carefully.  The  pastor  thanked 
her  in  it,  and  said  that  she  had  been  as  a  mother  to  his  children,  and  he  should 
never  forget  the  assistance  she  had  been  to  him  in  his  difficulties.  She  had  also 
earned  a  considerable  sum  of  money  in  his  service,  which  she  gave  to  her 
deceased  husband  to  buy  the  meadow,  which  the  bailiff  had  afterward  taken 
from  him  by  a  law  suit. 

After  she  had  given  Rudi  this  paper,  she  said :  "  There  are  two  good  shifts 
there.  Do  not  put  either  of  them  on  me  when  I  am  buried — the  one  I  have  on, 
is  good  enough.  And  when  I  am  dead,  let  my  gown  and  my  two  aprons  be  cut 
up  for  the  children." 

Soon  afterward,  she  added:   "Look  carefully  after  Betheli,  Rudi!     She  is  such 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  550, 

a  delicate  child ;  and  always  let  the  children  be  kept  clean,  and  well  washed  and 
combed;  and  every  year  let  them  have  spring  herbs  to  sweeten  their  blood; 
they  do  them  so  much  good.  And  if  thou  canst  manage  it,  keep  a  goat  for 
them,  during  the  summer — Betheli  can  take  care  of  it  now.  It  grieves  me  to 
think  that  thou  wilt  be  so  solitary,  but  keep  up  thy  courage,  and  do  what  thou 
canst.  This  work  at  the  church  will  be  a  great  help  to  thee — I  thank  God  for 
it." 

The  mother  was  now  silent,  and  the  children  and  their  father  remained  for  a 
time  upon  their  knees,  praying.  Then  they  stood  up,  and  Rudi  said  to  his  moth- 
er :  "  Mother,  I  will  now  go  and  get  the  leaves  for  thy  coverlid." 

She  answered :  "  There  is  no  hurry  for  that,  Rudi !  The  room  is  warmer  now, 
thank  God!  and  thou  must  go  to  the  mason's  with  the  child." 

And  Rudi  beckoned  Betheli  out  of  the  room,  and  said :  "  Watch  thy  grand- 
mother carefully,  and  if  any  thing  happens  to  her,  send  Anneli  after  me.  I  shall, 
be  at  the  mason's." 

CHAPTER  xvm. — A  POOR  BOY  ASKS  PARDON  FOR  HAVING  STOLEN  POTATOES, 

AND   THE   SICK   WOMAN   DIES. 

AND  he  took  the  little  one  by  the  hand,  and  went  with  him. 

Gertrude  was  alone  in  the  house  when  they  arrived,  and  soon  saw  that  both 
the  boy  and  his  father  had  tears  in  their  eyes.  "  What  dost  thou  want,  neigh- 
bor Rudi  ?  Why  art  thou  weeping  ?  Why  is  the  little  fellow  weeping  ?"  said 
she,  kindly  taking  his  hand. 

"Alas,  Gertrude?  I  am  in  trouble,"  answered  Rudi.  "I  am  come  to  thee, 
because  Rudeli  has  taken  potatoes  out  of  your  heap.  Yesterday  his  grand- 
mother found  it  out,  and  he  has  confessed  it — forgive  us,  Gertrude. 

"  His  grandmother  is  on  her  death-bed — she  has  just  taken  leave  of  us.  And. 
I  am  so  wretched,  I  scarcely  know  what  I  am  saying — Gertrude !  she  begs  thy 
forgiveness  too — I  am  sorry  I  can  not  pay  thee  back  now;  but  I  will  willingly 
work  a  couple  of  days  for  thee,  to  make  it  up.  Forgive  us ! — The  boy  did  it 
from  hunger." 

Gertrude.  "Say  not  another  word  about  it,  Rudi:  and  thou,  dear  little  fel- 
low !  come  and  promise  me  never  to  take  any  thing  from  any  body  again."  She 
kissed  him,  and  said:  "Thou  hast  an  excellent  grandmother!  only  grow  up  as 
pious  and  as  good  as  she  is." 

Rudeli.     "Forgive  me,  Gertrude!  I  will  never  steal  again." 

Ger.  "No,  my  child,  never  do  so  again.  Thou  dost  not  yet  know  how  mis- 
erable and  unhappy  all  thieves  become.  Do  so  no  more :  and  if  thou  art  hun- 
gry, come  to  me  instead,  and  tell  me.  If  I  can,  I  will  give  thee  something  to- 
eat." 

Rudi.  "I  thank  God,  I  have  now  got  work  at  the  building  of  the  church, 
and  I  hope  hunger  will  never  lead  him  to  do  any  thing  of  the  kind  again." 

Ger.  "  My  husband  and  I  were  very  glad  to  hear  that  the  squire  had  fixed 
upon  thee  as  one." 

Rudi.  "And  I  am  so  glad  that  my  mother  has  lived  to  have  this  comfort  1 
Tell  thy  husband,  I  will  work  under  him  honestly  and  truly,  and  be  there  early 
and  late ;  and  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  allow  any  wages,  to  pay  for  the  potatoes."" 

Ger.  "  Say  nothing  of  that,  Rudi.  I  am  sure  my  husband  will  never  take 
it.  God  be  praised,  we  are  now  much  better  off,  on  account  of  this  building. 
Rudi,  I  will  go  with  thee  to  thy  mother,  as  she  is  so  very  ill." 


560  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE 

She  filled  Rudeli's  pocket  with  apples,  and  said  to  him  once  more :  "  Remem- 
ber, my  dear  child,  never  to  take  any  thing  from  any  body  again;"  and  she 
then  went  with  Rudi  to  his  mother. 

And  as  he  was  collecting  some  leaves  under  a  nut-tree,  to  fill  his  mother's 
coverlid,  Gertrude  helped  him — and  then  went  with  him  to  her. 

Gertrude  spoke  kindly  to  the  sick  woman,  took  her  hand,  and  wept. 

"Dost  thou  weep,  Gertrude?"  said  the  grandmother.  "It  is  we  who  should 
weep.  Hast  thou  forgiven  us?  " 

Ger.  "0,  do  not  talk  of  forgiveness,  Catharine!  Your  distress  goes  to  my 
heart,  and  still  more  thy  goodness  and  carefulness.  Thy  carefulness  and  hon- 
esty will  certainly  bring  down  the  blessing  of  God  upon  thy  children,  Catharine." 

Catharine.     "  Hast  thou  forgiven  us,  Gertrude  ?  " 

Ger.  "  Say  no  more  about  that,  Catharine.  I  only  wish  I  could  do  any  thing 
'to  give  thee  ease,  in  thy  sickness." 

Oath.  "  Thou  art  very  good,  Gertrude,  and  I  thank  thee ;  but  God  will  soon 
help  me.  Rudeli,  hast  thou  asked  her  pardon?  Has  she.forgiven  thee?  " 

Rudeli.  "Yes,  grandmother:  see  how  good  she  is."  He  showed  her  his 
pocket  full  of  apples. 

"How  very  sleepy  I  am,"  said  the  grandmother.  "Hast  thou  asked  her  for- 
giveness properly  ?  " 

Rud.     "  Yes,  grandmother,  with  my  whole  heart." 

Cafh.  "A  slumber  creeps  over  me,  and  my  eyes  grow  dim.  I  am  going, 
Gertrude  1 "  said  she  softly,  and  in  broken  words.  "  There  is  one  thing  more,  I 
wish  to  ask  thee ;  but  I  don't  know  whether  I  dare.  This  unfortunate  child  has 
stolen  from  thee — may  I  ask  thee,  Gertrude,  when — I  am  dead — these  poor — 
desolate  children — they — are  so  desolate" — she  stretched  out  her  hand — (her 
eyes  were  already  closed,)  "may  I — hope — follow  her — Rud" — she  expired, 
unable  to  finish. 

Rudi  thought  she  had  only  dropped  asleep,  and  said  to  the  children :  "Do 
not  speak  a  word,  she  is  asleep.  0,  if  she  should  yet  recover !  " 

But  Gertrude  thought  it  was  death,  and  told  Rudi  so. 

How  he  and  all  the  little  ones  wrung  their  hands  in  anguish,  I  can  not  de 
scribe.  Reader!  let  me  be  silent  and  weep — for  it  goes  to  my  heart  to  thinj 
how  man,  in  the  dust  of  earth,  ripens  to  immortality ;  and  how,  in  the  pom| 
and  vanity  of  the  world,  he  decays  without  coming  to  maturity.  Weigh  then, 
0  man,  weigh  the  value  of  life,  on  the  bed  of  death ;  and  thou  who  despisest 
the  poor,  pitiest  and  dost  not  know  him— tell  me  whether  he  can  have  lived  un- 
happy, who  can  thus  die ! — But  I  refrain.  I  wish  not  to  teach  you,  0  men  1  I 
only  wish  you  to  open  your  eyes,  and  see  for  yourselves,  what  really  is  happiness 
or  misery,  a  blessing  or  a  curse  in  this  world. 

Gertrude  comforted  poor  Rudi,  and  told  him  the  last  wish  of  his  excellent 
mother,  which,  in  his  trouble,  he  had  not  heard. 

Rudi  took  her  by  the  hand,  confidingly — "  What  a  sad  affliction  it  is  to  lose 
my  dear  mother  I  How  good  she  was !  I  am  sure.  Gertrude,  thou  will  remem- 
ber her  wish." 

Ger.  "  I  must  have  a  heart  of  stone  if  I  could  forget  it.  I  will  do  what  I 
can  for  thy  children." 

Rudi.     "  God  will  repay  thee  what  thou  dost  for  us." 

Gertrude  turned  toward  the  window,  wiped  the  tears  from  her  face,  raised 
:  her  eyes  to  heaven,  and  sighed  deeply.  Then  she  took  up  Rudeli  and  his  sis- 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  5gj 

•ters,  one  after  the  other,  kissed  them  with  warm  tears,  prepared  the  corpse  tor 
the  grave,  and  did  not  go  home  till  she  had  done  every  thing  which  was  neces- 
sary. 

CHAPTER   XLX. — GOOD   SPIRITS   COMFORT,  CHEER,  AND   SUPPORT  A   MAN,  BUT 
ANXIETY  IS  A  CONTINUAL  TORMENT. 

THE  bailiff',  after  he  had  been  to  Rudi,  proceeded  to  the  other  day-laborers. 
And  first  he  went  to  Jogli  Bar.  He  found  him  splitting  wood,  and  singing  and 
whistling  over  his  chopping-log ;  but  when  he  saw  the  bailiff,  he  looked  up  in 
-astonishment:  "If  you  are  come  for  money,  bailiff,  I  have  none." 

Bailiff.  "Thou  art  singing  and  whistling  like  a  bird  in  a  granary.  How 
canst  thou  be  without  money  ?  " 

Bar.  "If  crying  would  bring  bread,  I  should  not  be  whistling.  But,  in  good 
earnest,  what  do  you  want  1  " 

Bailiff.  "  Nothing ;  but  to  tell  thee,  that  thou  art  to  be  a  helper  at  the  build- 
ing of  the  church,  and  to  have  twenty-five  kreutzers  a  day." 

Bar.     "  Can  that  be  true  ?  " 

Bailiff.     "  It  is,  indeed.     Thou  must  go  up  to  the  hall  on  Monday." 

Bar.  "  If  it  is  really  true,  I  am  very  thankful  for  it,  Mr.  Bailiff.  You  see 
•now  that  I  might  well  be  singing  and  whistling  to-day." 

The  bailiff  went  away,  laughing;  and  said  to  himself:  "I  never  know  what 
it  is  to  be  as  merry  as  this  beggar." 

Bar  went  into  the  house,  to  his  wife.  "Keep  up  a  good  heart,  wife.  I  am 
to  be  day -laborer  at  the  building  of  the  church  I  " 

Wife.  "It  will  be  long  enough  before  thou  hast  such  a  piece  of  luck.  Thou 
hast  always  a  bag  full  of  hope,  but  not  of  bread." 

Bar.     "There  shall  be  no  want  of  bread,  when  once  I  get  my  daily  wages." 

Wife.     "But  there  may  be  want  of  wages." 

Bar.     "  No,  child,  no !     Arner  pays  his  laborers  well.     No  fear  of  that." 

Wife.     "Art  thou  joking,  or  can  it  be  true  about  the  building?  " 

Bar.  "The  bailiff  has  just  been  here  to  tell  me  to  go  on  Monday  to  the  hall, 
with  the  other  laborers  who  are  to  work  at  the  church ;  so  it  can  not  well  miss." 

Wife.  "Heaven  be  praised,  if  it  prove  so:  if  I  may  hope  to  have  one  com- 
fortable hour! " 

Bar.  "  Thou  shalt  have  many  a  one.  I  am  as  light-hearted  as  a  child  about 
it.  Thou  wilt  no  longer  scold  me,  when  I  come  home  laughing  and  merry.  J 
will  bring  thee  every  kreutzer,  as  fast  as  I  get  it.  I  should  have  no  pleasure  in 
life,  if  I  did  not  hope  that  the  time  would  yet  come,  when  thou  shouldst  think, 
with  joy,  that  thou  hast  a  good  husband.  If  thy  little  property  was  soon  lost 
in  my  hands,  forgive  me.  God  willing,  I  will  yet  make  it  up  to  thee." 

Wife.  "I  am  glad  to  see  thee  merry;  but  I  am  always  afraid  it  is  from 
*  houghtlessness. " 

Bar.     "  What  have  I  neglected ?  or  what  have  I  done  that  was  wrong?  " 

Wife.  "  Nay,  I  do  not  accuse  thee  of  that ;  but  thou  art  never  troubled  when 
we  have  no  bread." 

Bar.     "  Would  my  being  troubled  bring  us  bread?  " 

Wife.     "Do  what  I  will,  I  can  not  help  it: — it  always  makes  me  low." 

Bar.     "  Take  courage,  and  cheer  up,  wife.     It  makes  things  easier." 
Wife.     "  Thou  hast  never  a  coat  to  go  up  to  the  hall  in  on  Monday." 

Bar.  "  Oh,  then  I  will  go  in  half  of  one.  Thou  always  findest  something  to 
fret  about,"  said  he;  and  went  off  to  his  log,  and  split  wood  until  dark. 


502  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

From  hira,  the  bailiff  went  to  Laupi,  who  was  not  at  home ;  so  he  left  the 
message  with  Hugli,  his  neighbor,  and  went  on  to  Hans  Leemann. 

CHAPTER  xx. — FOOLISH  GOSSIPING  LEADS  TO  IDLENESS. 

HE  was  standing  at  his  door,  staring  around  him,  saw  the  bailiff  at  a  distance 
and  said  to  himself:  "  Now  we  shall  have  some  news."  "  What  brings  you  this 
way,  Mr.  Bailiff?  " 

Bailiff.     "  I  am  in  search  of  thee,  Leemann." 

Leemann.  "  It  is  doing  me  a  great  honor,  Mr.  Bailiff— but  tell  me,  how  is  the 
mason's  wife  going  on  ?  Is  she  as  pert  as  she  was  yesterday  in  the  church-yard  ? 
What  a  witch  she  was,  bailiff  I  " 

Bailiff.     "  Thou  must  not  say  so  now.     Thou  art  to  be  helper  to  her  husband." 

Leemann.     " Is  there  no  other  news,  that  you  come  to  me  with  such  a  tale? " 

Bailiff.  "Nay,  it  is  true  enough,  and  I  am  come,  by  the  squire's  orders,  to 
tell  thee  of  it." 

Leemann.     "  How  did  I  come  to  this  honor,  Mr.  Bailiff?  " 

Bailiff.     "  I  think  it  must  have  been  in  thy  sleep." 

Leemann.  "  I  will  awake,  however,  if  this  be  true.  What  time  must  one  go- 
to the  work  ?  " 

Bailiff.     "  I  suppose  in  a  morning." 

Leemann.  "And  in  an  afternoon  too,  I  fancy.  How  many  of  us  are  there, 
Mr.  Bailiff?" 

Bailiff.     "Ten." 

Leemann.     "  I  wonder  who  they  are !     Tell  me." 

The  bailiff  told  him  all  the  names  in  order.  Between  every  one  Leemann 
guessed  twenty  others — not  such  a  one?  nor  such  a  one? — "I  am  losing  time," 
said  the  bailiff  at  last,  and  went  on. 

CHAPTER  xxi. — INGRATITUDE  AND  ENVY. 

FROM  him,  the  bailiff  went  to  Jogli  Lenk.  He  was  lying  on  the  stove-bench, 
smoking  his  pipe.  His  wife  was  spinning,  and  five  half  naked  children  were 
sprawling  around. 

The  bailiff  told  his  message  in  few  words. 

Lenk  took  the  pipe  out  of  his  mouth,  and  answered:  "It's  a  wonder  that  any 
good  thing  comes  to  me  1  I  have  always  been  far  enough  out  of  the  way  of 
such  luck,  till  now." 

Bailiff.     "And  many  others  with  thee,  Lenk." 

Lenk.     "Is  my  brother  amongst  the  day -laborers  ?" 

Bailiff.     "No." 

Lenk.     "  Who  are  the  others?  " 

The  bailiff  told  him  their  names. 

Lenk.  "  But  my  brother  is  a  far  better  workman  than  Rudi,  or  Bar,  or  Marx. 
I  say  nothing  of  Kriecher.  On  my  life,  there  is  not  another  amongst  the  ten, 
except  myself,  who  is  half  so  good  a  workman.  Bailiff,  can  not  you  manage  to 
get  him  in  ?  " 

"I  don't  know"  said  the  bailiff;  and  cutting  short  the  discourse,  he  went 
away. 

Lenk's  wife,  who  was  at  her  wheel,  said  nothing  till  the  bailiff  was  out  of 
hearing;  but  the  conversation  troubled  her;  and  as  soon  as  the  bailiff  was  gone 
s.ie  said  to  her  husband:  "Thou  art  thankless  both  to  God  and  man.  When. 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  5(33 

God  sends  thee  help  in  thy  great  distress,  them  dost  nothing  but  abuse  thy  neigh- 
bors, whom  he  has  also  helped." 

Lenk.     "  I  shall  have  to  work  for  the  money,  and  not  get  it  for  nothing." 

Wife.     "  Till  now,  thou  hadst  no  work  to  get  any  by." 

Lenk,     "  But  then  I  had  no  labor." 

Wife.     "And  thy  children  no  bread." 

"What  had  I  more  than  you?"  said  the  lazy  lubber.  His  wife  was  silent, 
and  wept  bitter  tears. 

CHAPTER  xxn. — REMORSE  FOR  PERJURY  CAN  NOT  BE  ALLAYED  BY  CRAFTY  ARTS. 

FROM  Lenk  the  bailiff  went  to  Kriecher,  and  as  he  was  going,  came  unex- 
pectedly upon  Hans  Wust. 

'If  he  had  seen  him  in  time,  he  would  have  slipped  out  of  the  way;  for,  since 
Rudi's  affair,  the  bailiff  and  Wust  never  met  without  feelings  of  self-reproach ; 
but  the  bailiff  met  him  unawares,  at  the  corner  of  the  side  street,  near  the  low- 
er well. 

"Art  thou  there,  Wust?"  said  the  bailiff. 

"Yes,  bailiff,"  answered  Wust. 

Bailiff.  "Why  dost  thou  never  come  near  me?  Hast  thou  forgotten  the 
money  I  lent  thee  ?  " 

Wust.  "I  have  no  money  at  present,  and  when  I  look  back,  I  am  afraid  I 
have  paid  too  dearly  for  your  money  already." 

Bailiff.  "Thou  didst  not  talk  in  this  way,  Wust,  when  I  gave  it  thee.  It  i» 
serving  a  man  ungraciously." 

Wust.  "Serving  a  man  is  one  thing — but,  serving  a  man  so  that  one  can 
never  have  another  comfortable  hour  on  God's  earth,  is  another." 

Bailiff.  "  Talk  not  so,  Wust !  Thou  didst  not  swear  any  thing  but  what 
was  true." 

Wust.  "So  you  always  say.  But  I  can  not  but  feel  in  my  heart  that  I 
swore  falsely." 

Bailiff.  "That  is  not  true,  Wust!  On  my  soul,  it  is  not  true.  Thou  didst 
but  swear  to  what  was  read  to  thee,  and  it  was  very  carefully  worded.  I  read 
it  to  thee  more  than  a  hundred  times,  and  it  appeared  to  thee  hi  the  same  light 
as  it  did  to  me,  and  thou  saidst  always  'Yes;  I  can  swear  to  that!'  Was  it 
not  so,  Wust?  And  why  art  thou  now  fretting  about  it?  But  it  is  only  on  ac- 
count of  thy  debt.  Thou  wouldst  have  me  wait  longer." 

Wust.  "No,  bailiff;  you  are  mistaken.  If  I  had  the  money,  I  would  pay  it 
down  this  moment,  that  I  might  never  see  your  face  again ;  for  my  heart  smites 
me  whenever  I  look  at  you."  ' 

" Thou  art  a  fool !"   said  the  bailiff;  but  his  own  heart  smote  him  also. 

Wust.  "I  saw  it  as  you  do,  for  a  long  tune;  for  it  did  not  come  to  me  at 
first,  that  the  squire  spoke  as  if  he  saw  it  in  quite  a  different  light." 

Bailiff.  "  Thou  hast  nothing  to  do  with  what  the  squire  said  about  it.  Thou 
didst  but  swear  to  the  paper  that  was  read  to  thee." 

Wust.  u  Yes;  but  he  passed  judgment  according  to  what  he  had  understood 
from  it." 

Bailiff.  "  If  the  squire  was  a  fool,  let  him  look  after  it.  What  is  that  to  thee  ? 
He  had  the  paper  in  his  hand ;  and  if  it  did  not  seem  clear  to  him,  he  should 
have  had  it  written  differently." 

H '//>/.     ••  I  know  you  can  always  out-talk  me;  but  that  does  not  comfort  my 


664  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

conscience.  And  at  church,  on  a  sacrament  day,  I  am  in  such  a  horrible  state, 
that  I  could  sink  into  the  earth  1  0  bailiff,  v/ould  that  I  had  never  owed  you  any 
thing !  Would  that  I  had  never  known  you,  or  that  I  had  died  the  day  before 
I  was  forsworn !  " 

Bailiff.  "For  God's  sake,  Wust,  do  not  fret  in  this  way.  It -is  folly.  Think 
of  all  the  circumstances.  We  went  about  it  very  carefully.  In  thy  presence  I 
asked  the  pastor's  assistant,  point-blank :  Will  Wust  have  sworn  to  any  thing  but 
what  is  in  the  paper,  supposing  he  does  not  understand  it  right?  Post  thou  not 
remember  his  answer  ?  " 

Wust.     "Yes;  but  still " 

Bailiff.     "Nay,  he  said  these  very  words; — Wust  will  not  have  sworn  to 
hair  more  than  is  in  the  paper.     Were  not  these  his  words  ?  " 

Wust.     "  Yes ;  but  then  is  it  so,  because  he  said  it?  " 

Bailiff.     "  Is  it  so  ?     What,  art  thou  not  satisfied  ?  " 

Wust.  "No,  bailiff?  I  will  speak  out  for  once.  The  late  pastor's  assistant 
owed  you  money,  as  well  as  myself;  and  you  know  what  a  fellow  he  was,  and 
how  disorderly.  It  is  little  comfort  to  me  what  such  a  reckless  creature  said." 

Bailiff.  "His  way  of  life  was  nothing  to  thee.  He  understood  the  right 
doctrine,  and  that  thou  knowest." 

Wust.     "Nay,  I  know  it  not.     But  I  know  he  was  good  for  nothing." 

Bailiff.     "  But  what  did  that  signify  to  thee  ?  " 

Wust.  "  Why,  for  my  part,  if  I  know  a  man  has  been  very  wicked  and  bad 
an  one  point,  I  dare  not  trust  to  his  goodness  in  any  other.  Therefore  I  am  afraid 
•that  this  worthless  man  deceived  me,  and  then  what  is  to  become  of  me  ?  " 

Bailiff.  "Let  these  thoughts  go,  Wust!  Thou  hast  sworn  to  nothing  but 
•what  was  true." 

Wust.  "I  did  so,  for  a  long  time;  but  it's  over  now.  I  can  not  cheat  my- 
self any  longer.  Poor  Rudi  I  Wherever  I  go  or  stand,  I  see  him  before  me. 
Poor  Rudi  I  how  his  misery,  and  hunger,  and  want,  must  rise  up  to  God  against 
me  1  0,  and  his  children,  they  are  such  sickly,  starved,  ricketty  things ;  and  as 
yellow  as  gipsies.  They  were  fine,  stout,  healthy  children ;  and  my  oath  took 
the  meadow  from  them," 

Bailiff.  "  I  had  a  right  to  it.  It  was  as  I  told  thee.  And  now,  Rudi  has 
•work  at  the  building  of  the  church,  and  may  come  round  again." 

Wust.  "  What  good  can  that  do  me  ?  If  I  had  not  sworn,  it  would  be  all 
the  same  to  me,  whether  Rudi  were  rich  or  a  beggar." 

Bailiff.     "Do  not  let  it  disturb  thee  so!     I  had  a  right  to  it." 

Wust.  "Not  disturb  me?  If  I  had  broken  into  his  house  and  stolen  all  his 
•goods,  it  would  trouble  me  less.  0  bailiff,  bailiff!  that  I  should  have  acted  thus ! 
It  is  now  near  Easter  again.  I  wish  I  were  buried  a  thousand  feet  deep  in  the 
-earth!" 

Bailiff.  "  For  heaven's  sake,  Wust,  do  not  go  on  in  this  way  in  the  open 
street,  before  all  the  people.  If  any  body  should  hear  thee  1  It  is  thine  own 
stupidity  that  plagues  thee.  All  that  thou  hast  sworn  to  was  true." 

Wust.  "  Stupidity  here,  stupidity  there !  If  I  had  not  sworn,  Rudi  would 
still  have  had  his  meadow." 

Bailiff.  "  But  thou  didst  not  say  it  was  not  his,  or  that  it  was  mine.  What 
in  the  devil's  name  is  it  to  thee  who  has  the  meadow  ?  " 

Wust.  "  It  is  nothing  to  me  who  has  the  meadow,  but  it  is  that  I  have  sworn 
falsely." 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  5^5 

Bailiff.  "  I  tell  thee  it  is  not  true  that  them  hast  sworn  falsely.  That  which 
thou  didst  swear  to,  was  true." 

Wust.  "  But  it  was  a  deceit !  I  did  not  tell  the  squire  how  I  understood  the 
writing;  and  he  understood  it  differently.  Say  what  you  will,  I  know,  I  feel  it 
in  myself,  that  I  was  a  Judas,  and  a  betrayer ;  and  that  my  oath  was  a  false  one, 
words  or  no  words." 

Bailiff.  "  I  arn  sorry  for  thee,  Wust,  that  thou  art  so  stupid ;  but  thou  art 
ill ;  thou  lookest  like  one  risen  from  the  grave ;  and  when  a  man  is  not  well  he 
sees  things  so  differently.  Compose  thyself,  Wust.  Come  home  with  me,  and 
let  us  drink  a  glass  of  wine  together." 

Wust.     "  I  can  not,  bailiff.     Nothing  upon  earth  can  cheer  me  now." 

Bailiff.  "  Comfort  thyself,  Wust.  Drive  it  out  of  thy  head,  and  forget  it  till 
thou  art  well  again.  Thou  wilt  then  perceive  that  I  was  in  the  right,  and  I  will 
tear  thy  note  in  pieces.  Perhaps  it  will  be  a  relief  to  thee." 

Wust.  "No  bailiff!  keep  the  note.  If  I  must  eat  my  own  flesh  for  hunger, 
I  will  pay  you  that  debt.  I  will  not  have  the  price  of  blood  upon  my  soul.  If 
you  have  betrayed  me,  if  the  pastor's  assistant  has  deceived  me,  perhaps  God 
will  forgive  me.  I  did  not  mean  it  to  turn  out  so." 

Bailiff.  "Here  is  thy  note,  Wust.  See,  I  destroy  it  before  thy  eyes;  and  I 
take  it  on  my  own  responsibility  that  I  was  in  the  right ;  and  now  be  comforted." 

Wust.  "  Take  what  you  will  upon  yourself,  bailiff,  I  will  pay  you  my  debt. 
The  day  after  to-morrow  I  will  sell  my  Sunday  coat,  and  pay  you." 

Bailiff.  "  Think  better  of  it.  Thou  deceivest  thyself,  upon  my  life.  But  I 
must  go  away  now." 

Wust.  "It  is  a  mercy  that  you  are  going.  If  you  were  to  stay  much  longer, 
I  should  go  mad  before  your  eyes." 

Bailiff.     "  Quiet  thyself,  for  heaven's  sake,  Wust."     They  then  separated. 

But  the  bailiff,  when  he  was  alone,  could  not  help  saying  to  himself  with  a 
sigh :  "  I  am  sorry  he  met  me  just  now.  I  have  had  enough  before  to-day,  with- 
out this."  He  soon,  however,  hardened  himself  again,  and  said:  "I  am  sorry 
for  the  poor  wretch ;  he  is  so  troubled !  but  he  is  in  the  wrong.  It  is  nothing  to 
him  how  the  judge  understood  it.  The  devil  might  take  the  oaths,  if  the  exact 
meaning  of  them  were  to  be  looked  after  so  sharply.  I  know  that  other  people, 
and  those  who  should  understand  the  thing  best,  take  oaths  after  their  own  way 
of  interpreting  them,  and  are  undisturbed,  where  a  poor  wretch,  who  thinks  like 
Wust,  would  say  he  saw  as  clear  as  day  that  it  was  a  deceit.  But  I  wish  these 
thoughts  were  out  of  my  head,  they  make  me  uncomfortable  1  I  will  go  back 
and  drink  a  glass  of  wine."  He  did  so,  and  then  went  to  Felix  Kriecher. 

CHAPTER  xxm. — A  HYPOCRITE,  AND  A  SUFFERING  WOMAN. 
FELIX  KRIECHER  was  a  man  who  always  had  the  air  of  enduring  the  greatest 
afflictions  with  the  patience  of  a  martyr.  To  the  barber,  the  bailiff,  and  every 
stranger,  he  bowed  as  low  as  to  the  pastor ;  and  he  went  to  all  the  weekly  pray- 
ers at  church,  and  to  all  the  Sunday  evening  singing.  Sometimes  he  got,  by 
this  means,  a  glass  of  wine ;  and  occasionally,  when  he  was  very  late,  and  man- 
aged well,  had  an  invitation  to  supper.  He  took  great  pains  to  be  in  favor  with 
all  the  pietists  of  the  village,  but  could  not  quite  succeed ;  for  he  was  very  care- 
ful not  to  offend  the  other  party  on  their  account,  and  this  does  not  suit  fanatics. 
They  will  not  let  their  disciples  be  well  with  both  sides ;  and  thus,  notwith- 
standing his  appearance  of  humility,  and  all  the  hypocritical  arts  he  practiced 


566  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE 

and  even  his  spiritual  pride,  which  generally  suits  fanatics,  he  was  not  admitted 
into  their  set 

With  all  these  exterior  and  acknowledged  qualities,  he  had  some  others ;  and 
though  these  were  only  for  secret  use  in  his  domestic  life,  I  must  now  speak  of 
them. 

To  his  wife  and  children  he  was  a  devil.  In  the  most  extreme  poverty  he 
still  insisted  upon  having  something  dainty  to  eat;  and  if  he  did  not  get  it,  all 
went  wrong — the  children  were  not  properly  combed  and  washed ;  and  if  he 
could  find  nothing  else  to  blame,  and  one  of  his  little  children  of  four  years  old 
stared  at  him,  he  would  beat  it,  to  teach  it  proper  respect  to  him. 

"  Thou  art  a  fool ! "  said  his  wife  to  him  one  day  when  this  had  occurred. 
But,  though  she  was  quite  right,  and  had  told  him  nothing  but  the  simple  truth, 
he  kicked  her  for  it ;  and  as  she  was  running  away  from  him,  she  fell  by  the 
door,  and  made  two  deep  wounds  in  her  head.  This  frightened  the  man ;  for  he 
thought,  wisely  enough,  that  a  broken  head  might  tell  tales. 

And  as  all  hypocrites,  when  they  are  alarmed,  crouch,  and  fawn,  and  humble 
themselves,  so  did  Kriecher  to  his  wife.  He  coaxed  her;  and  begged  and  en- 
treated, for  God's  sake,  not  that  she  would  forgive  him,  but  that  she  would 
promise  to  tell  nobody  of  it.  She  did  so,  and  patiently  endured  the.  pain  of  a 
very  bad  wound,  and  told  the  barber  and  the  other  neighbors  that  she  had 
fallen ;  but  many  of  them  did  not  believe  her.  Poor  woman  1  she  might  have 
known  beforehand  that  no  hypocrite  was  ever  grateful,  or  kept  his  word,  and 
should  not  have  trusted  him.  But  what  do  I  say?  Alas!  she  knew  all  this; 
but  she  thought  of  her  children,  and  knew  that  God  only  could  change  his  heart, 
and  that  it  was  of  no  use  to  be  talking  about  it.  She  is  an  excellent  woman, 
and  it  is  grievous  to  think  how  unhappy  he  makes  her,  and  what  she  suffers 
daily  by  his  means.  She  was  silent,  but  prayed  to  God;  and  thanked  him  for 
the  afflictions  with  which  he  tried  her. 

0  eternity ! — when  thou  revealest  the  ways  of  God,  and  the  blessedness  of 
those  to  whom  he  teaches  steadfastness,  courage,  and  patience,  by  suffering, 
want,  and  sorrow — 0  eternity  1  how  wilt  thou  exalt  those  tried  ones  who  have 
been  so  lowly  here. 

Kriecher  had  forgotten  the  wounds,  almost  before  they  were  healed,  and  went 
on  as  usual.  He  tormented  and  harassed  his  wife,  without  cause  or  excuse, 
every  day,  and  embittered  her  life.  A  quarter  of  an  hour  before  the  bailiff 
came,  the  cat  had  overturned  the  lamp,  and  wasted  a  drop  or  two  of  oil. 
"  Thou  stupid  creature,  thou  shouldst  have  taken  better  care,"  said  he  to  his  wife, 
with  his  accustomed  fury;  "thou  mayst  now  sit  in  the  dark,  and  light  the  fire 
with  cow-dung,  thou  horned  beast  1"  His  wife  said  not  a  word,  but  the  tears 
streamed  down  her  cheeks,  and  the  children  cried  in  the  corners  with  their 
mother. 

At  this  moment  the  bailiff  knocked.  "Hush!  for  heaven's  sake,  be  quiet! 
"What  is  to  be  done?  The  bailiff  is  at  the  door,"  said  Kriecher,  and,  hastily 
wiping  off  the  children's  tears  with  his  handkerchief;  he  threatened  to  cut  them 
in  pieces,  if  he  heard  another  whimper;  then  opened  the  door  to  the  bailiff, 
bowed,  and  said:  "What  are  your  commands,  Mr.  Bailiff?"  The  bailiff  told 
him  his  errrand,  briefly. 

But  Kriecher,  who  was  listening  at  the  door,  and  heard  no  more  crying,  an- 
swered: "Come  into  the  room,  Mr.  Bailiff,  and  I  will  tell  my  dear  wife  what  a 
piece  of  good  fortune  has  befallen  us."  The  bailiff  went  into  the  room,  and 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  567 

Kriecher  said  to  his  wife :  "  The  bailiff  has  just  brought  me  the  good  news  that 
I  am  to  be  one  of  the  day-laborers  at  the  building  of  the  church;  and  a  great 
favor  it  is,  for  which  I  can  not  be  sufficiently  thankful." 

The  wife  answered,  "Thank  God!"  and  a  sigh  escaped  from  her. 

Bailiff.     " Is  something  the  matter  with  thy  wife? " 

"She  is  not  very  well  to-day,  Mr.  Bailiff,"  said  Kriecher,  throwing  an  angry, 
threatening  look  toward  his  wife. 

Bailiff.     "I  must  be  going  on.     I  wish  her  better." 

Wife.     u  Good-bye,  Mr.  Bailiff." 

Kriecher.  "  May  I  beg  you,  Mr.  Bailiff,  to  be  so  good  as  to  thank  the  squire, 
in  my  name,  for  this  favor." 

Bailiff.     '•  Thou  canst  thank  him  thyself." 

Kriech.  "  You  are  right,  Mr.  Bailiff.  It  was  a  great  liberty  in  me  to  ask  you 
to  do  it.  I  will  go  to-morrow  to  the  hall.  It  is  my  duty  to  do  so." 

Bailiff.  "All  the  others  are  going  on  Monday  morning,  and  I  think  thou 
hadst  better  go  with  them." 

Kriech.  "  Of  course,  yes,  certainly,  Mr.  Bailiff.  I  did  not  know  they  were 
going." 

Bailiff.     "Good-bye,  Kriecher." 

Kriech.     "I  am  greatly  indebted  to  you,  Mr.  Bailiff. 

Bailiff.  "  Thou  hast  nothing  to  thank  me  for."  And  he  went  away,  saying 
to  himself,  "I  am  much  mistaken,  if  this  fellow  is  not  one  of  the  devil's  own. 
Perhaps  he  is  the  kind  of  man  to  suit  me  with  the  mason — but  who  dare 
trust  a  hypocrite  ?  I  would  rather  have  Shaben  Michel.  He  is  a  downright 
rogue." 

CHAPTER  xxiv. — AN  HONEST,  JOYFUL,  THANKFUL  HEART. 

FROM  Kriecher  the  bailiff  went  to  young  Abi,  who  jumped  for  joy  when  he 
heard  the  good,  news ;  and  sprang  up  like  a  young  heifer  when  it  is  turned  out 
in  spring.  "  I  will  go  and  tell  my  wife,  that  she  may  rejoice  with  me.  No!  I 
will  wait  till  to-morrow.  To-morrow  it  will  be  eight  years  since  we  were  mar- 
ried. It  was  St.  Joseph's  day.  I  remember  it,  as  if  it  were  yesterday.  "We 
have  had  many  a  hard  hour  since ;  but  many  a  happy  one,  too.  God  be  thanked 
for  all.  To-morrow,  as  soon  as  she  wakes,  I  will  tell  her.  I  wish  the  time  were 
come !  I  can  see  just  how  she  will  laugh  and  cry  over  it ;  and  how  she  will 
press  her  children  and  me  to  her  heart  for  joy.  0  that  to-morrow  were  come ! 
I  will  kill  the  cock,  and  boil  it  in  the  broth,  without  her  knowing  any  thing 
about  it.  She  would  enjoy  it  then,  though  she  would  be  sorry  to  have  it  killed. 
No,  no !  it  will  be  no  sin  to  kill  it  for  such  a  joyful  occasion.  I  will  venture  it. 
I  will  stay  at  home  all  day  and  make  merry  with  her  and  the  children.  No,  I 
will  go  with  her  to  church  and  to  the  sacrament.  We  will  rejoice  and  be  glad ; 
and  thank  God  for  all  his  goodness." 

Thus  did  young  Abi  talk  to  himself,  in  the  joy  of  his  heart,  at  the  good  news 
the  bailiff  had  brought  him.  He  could  scarcely,  in  his  eagerness,  wait  till  the 
morrow  came,  when  he  did  as  he  had  said  he  would. 

CHAPTER  xxv. — HOW  ROGUES  TALK  TO  EACH  OTHER. 
FROM  Abi  the  bailiff  went  to  Shaben  Michel,  who  saw  him  at  a  distance,  beck- 
oned him  into  a  corner,  behind  the  house,  and  said:  "What  the  deuce  art  thou 
about  now  ?  " 


568  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

Bailiff.     "A  merry-making." 

Michel.  "  Truly,  thou  art  a  likely  fellow  to  be  sent  out  to  invite  guests  to 
weddings,  dances,  and  merry-makings." 

Bailiff.     "  Well,  it  is  nothing  dismal,  at  all  events." 

Mich.     "What  then!" 

Bailiff.     "  Thou  art  got  into  new  company." 

Mich.     "  Who  are  they,  and  what  is  it  for?  " 

Bailiff.     "Hubel  Rudi,  Jenk,  Leemann,  Kriecher,  and  Marx  Reuti." 

Mich.     "  Nonsense !     What  have  I  to  do  with  these  fellows  ?  " 

Bailiff.  "  To  build  up  and  adorn  the  house  of  the  Lord  in  Bonnal,  and  the 
walls  round  about  it." 

Mich.     "  In  sober  earnest  ?" 

Bailiff.     "Yes,  by  G !" 

Mich.     "  But  who  has  chosen  out  the  blind  and  lame  for  this  work?  " 

Bailiff.     "  The  well  and  nobly  born,  my  wise  and  potent  master,  the  squire !  " 

Mich.     "Is  he  mad?" 

Bailiff.     "  How  should  I  know  ?  " 

Mich.     "This  looks  like  it." 

Bailiff.  "  Perhaps  it  would  not  be  the  worst  thing  that  could  happen.  Light 
wood  is  easily,  turned.  But  I  must  away.  Come  to  me  to-night,  I  want  to 
speak  to  thee." 

Mich.     "  I  will  not  fail.     Who  art  thou  for  next  ?  " 

Bailiff.     "Marx  Reuti." 

Mich.  "  He  is  a  proper  fellow  for  work !  a  man  must  be  out  of  his  mind  to 
choose  him.  I  do  n't  believe  he  takes  a  mattock  or  spade  into  his  hand  the  year 
through ;  and  he  is  half  lame  on  one  side." 

Bailiff.     "  What  does  that  signify  ?     Only  do  thou  come  to  me  to-night." 

The  bailiff  then  went  on  to  Marx  Reuti. 

CHAPTER  xxvi. — PRIDE,  IN  POVERTY  AND  DISTRESS,  LEADS  TO  THE  MOST  UN- 
NATURAL AND  HORRIBLE  DEEDS. 

THIS  man  had  formerly  been  well  off,  and  carried  on  business  for  himself;  but 
he  was  now  without  occupation,  and  lived  almost  entirely  upon  the  charity  of 
the  pastor  and  some  of  his  relations,  who  were  able  to  help  him. 

In  all  his  distress,  he  always  kept  up  his  pride,  and  concealed,  as  much  as  he- 
could,  the  want  and  hunger  of  his  family,  except  from  those  who  gave  him  as- 
sistance. 

When  he  saw  the  bailiff,  he  started — I  can  not  say  he  turned  pale,  for  he  wa& 
always  as  white  as  a  ghost.  He  took  up  the  rags  which  lay  about,  and  thrust 
them  under  the  coverlid  of  the  bed,  and  ordered  the  half-naked  children  to  hide 
themselves  directly  in  the  next  room.  "  Lord  Jesus !  "  said  the  children,  "  it 
snows  and  rains  in.  Only  listen  what  a  storm  it  is !  There  is  no  window  in 
the  room." 

"  Get  along,  you  godless  brats !  how  you  distract  me.  Do  you  think  there  is 
no  need  for  you  to  learn  to  mortify  the  flesh  ?  " 

"We  can  riot  bear  it,  father!  "  said  the  children. 

"  He  will  not  stay  long,  you  heretics !  "  said  the  father ;  and  pushing  them  in, 
he  fastened  the  door,  and  then  invited  the  bailiff  into  the  house. 

When  he  had  delivered  his  message,  Marx  thanked  him,  and  said :  "  Am  I  to- 
be  an  overlooker  over  these  men  ?  " 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

"  What  art  thou  thinking  of,  Marx  ?  "  answered  the  bailiff.  "  No !  thou  art  to 
be  a  day-laborer  with  the  rest." 

Marx.     "So,  Mr.  Bailiff!" 

Bailiff.     "It  is  at  thy  own  choice,  if  thou  dost  not  like  the  work." 

Marx.  "In  truth,  I  am  not  accustomed  to  any  thing  of  the  kind;  but,  if  the 
squire  and  the  pastor  wish  it,  I  can  not  decline,  and  will  undertake  it." 

Bailiff.  "  It  will  rejoice  them  greatly ;  and  I  think  the  squire  will  almost 
send  me  again  to  thank  thee." 

Marx.  "Nay,  I  don't  mean  exactly  that;  but,  in  a  common  way,  I  cannot 
serve  every  body  as  a  day-laborer. 

Bailiff.     "  Then  thou  hast  enough  to  eat,  I  suppose." 

Marx.     "  Thank  God !  I  have  as  yet." 

Bailiff.     "  But  I  know  well  enough  where  thy  children  are." 

Marx.     "  They  are  dining  with  my  wife's  sister." 

Bailiff.     "  I  thought  I  heard  children  crying  in  the  next  room." 

Marx.     "  There  is  not  one  of  them  in  the  house." 

The  bailiff  heard  the  cry  again,  opened  the  door,  without  ceremony,  saw  the 
almost  naked  children  shivering  and  sobbing  with  the  wind,  rain,  and  snow, 
which  came  in  through  the'  window,  so  that  they  could  hardly  speak,  and  said : 
" Is  this  the  place  where  thy  children  dine,  Marx?  Thou  art  a  hound,  and  a 
hypocrite,  and  thy  damned  pride  often  makes  thee  act  in  this  way." 

Marx.  "For  heaven's  sake,  do  not  tell  any  body  ;  do  not  betray  me,  Bailiff! 
I  should  be  the  most  miserable  man  in  the  world  if  it  were  known." 

Bailiff.  "  Art  thou  out  of  thy  senses  ?  Even  now  thou  dost  not  tell  them  to 
come  out  of  such  a  dog-kennel.  Dost  thou  not  see  that  they  are  yellow  and 
blue  with  cold  ?  I  would  not  use  my  poodle  in  such  a  way." 

Marx.     "  Come  out,  then,  children — but,  bailiff,  for  mercy's  sake,  tell  nobody." 

Bailiff.     "  And  all  this  time,  forsooth,  thou  playestthe  saint  before  the  pastor." 

Marx.     "  I  beseech  you  tell  nobody." 

Bailiff.  "  Thou  art  worse  than  a  brute.  Thou  a  saint!  Thou  art  an  infidel. 
Dost  thou  hear  ?  thou  art  an  infidel,  for  no  true  man  would  act  in  such  a  way. 
And  why  must  thou  go  and  tell  tales  to  the  priest  about  the  battle  which  took 
place  last  week.  It  must  have  been  thou  who  told  him ;  for  at  twelve  o'clock,, 
when  it  happened,  thou  wert  going  home,  past  my  house,  from  one  of  thy  holy 
banquets." 

Marx.     "No,  on  my  life  I     Do  not  believe  it.     I  assure  you  it  was  not  so." 

Bailiff.     "  Darest  thou  say  so  ?  " 

Marx.  "  God  knows  it  was  not  so,  bailiff!  May  I  never  stir  from  this  spot 
if  it  was !  " 

Bailiff.  "  Marx !  darest  thou  maintain  what  thou  sayest  before  me  to  the 
pastor's  face  ?  I  know  more  about  it  than  thou  thinkest." 

Marx  stammered :  "  I  know — I  could — I  did  not  begin  " — 

"  Such  a  brute,  and  such  a  liar  as  thou  art,  I  never  saw  in  my  life !  "We  un- 
derstand each  other  now,"  said  the  bailiff:  and  he  went  that  moment  to  the 
pastor's  cook,  who  laughed  till  she  was  half  dead  at  the  pious  Israelite,  Marx 
Reuti,  and  faithfully  promised  to  bring  it  to  the  pastor's  ears. 

And  the  bailiff  rejoiced  in  his  heart  that,  probably,  the  pastor  would  give  the- 
wicked  heretic  his  weekly  bread  no  longer ;  but  he  was  mistaken,  for  the  pastor 
had,  before  this,  given  him  the  bread,  not  on  account  of  his  virtues,  but  of  his 
hunger. 


570  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

CHAPTER  xxvu. — ACTIVITY  AND  INDUSTRY,  WITHOUT  A  KIND  AND  GRATEFUL 

HEART. 

FROM  Marx  the  bailiff'  went  to  the  last  of  the  number.  This  was  Kienast,  a 
sickly  man.  He  was  not  yet  fifty  years  old,  but  poverty  and  anxiety  had  worn 
him  out,  and  this  day,  in  particular,  he  was  in  terrible  distress. 

His  eldest  daughter  had,  the  day  before,  hired  herself  out  to  service  in  the 
town,  and  had  showed  her  father  the  earnest-money  that  morning,  which  made 
the  poor  man  very  uneasy. 

His  wife  was  with  child,  and  near  her  time ;  and  Susan  was  the  only  one  of  the 
children  who  could  be  any  help  to  them,  and  now  she  was  to  go  to  service  in  a 
fortnight. 

The  father  begged  her,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  to  return  the  money,  and  stay 
with  him,  till  after  her  mother's  confinement.  * 

"I  will  not,"  answered  the  daughter.  "Where  shall  I  find  another  service, 
if  I  give  up  this?" 

Father.  "  After  thy  mother  is  brought  to  bed,  I  will  go  myself  into  the 
town,  and  help  thee  to  find  another.  Only  stay  till  then." 

Daughter.  "It  will  be  half  a  year  before  I  can  hire  myself  again;  and  the 
service  I  have  got  is  a  good  one. '  "Who  knows  how  you  will  help  me  ?  and,  in 
short,  I  will  not  wait  for  another  attempt." 

Father.  "  But  thou  kuowest,  Susan,  that  I  have  done  all  I  could  for  thee. 
Think  of  thy  childhood,  and  do  not  leave  me  hi  my  necessity." 

Daughter.     "  Dp  you  wish  then,  father,  to  stand  in  the  way  of  my  happiness  ?  " 

Father.  "  Alas  1  it  is  not  for  thy  happiness,  that  thou  shouldst  leave  thy  poor 
parents  in  such  circumstances.  Do  not  go,  Susan,  I  beg  of  thee.  My  wife  has 
a  very  handsome  apron,  it  is  the  last  she  has  left,  and  she  values  it  very  much  ; 
it  was  a  keepsake ;  but  she  shall  give  it  thee,  after  her  confinement,  if  thou 
wilt  only  stay." 

Daughter.  "  I  will  not  stay,  either  for  your  gifts  or  your  good  words.  I  can 
earn  such  as  that,  and  better.  It  is  time  for  me  to  be  doing  something  for  my- 
self. If  I  were  to  stay  ten  years  with  you,  I  should  not  get  a  bed  and  a  chest." 

Father.  "  Thou  wilt  not  get  these  in  one  half-year.  After  this  once,  I  will 
not  seek  to  detain  thee.  Stay  only  these  few  weeks." 

"No,  I  will  not,  father!  "  answered  the  daughter;  and  she  turned  away,  and 
ran  into  a  neighbor's  house. 

The  father  stood  there,  bent  down  by  anxiety  and  care,  and  said  to  himself: 
"  What  shall  I  do  in  this  misfortune  ?  How  shall  I  deliver  such  a  Job's  mes- 
sage to  my  poor  wife  ?  I  have  been  very  much  to  blame  for  not  doing  my  duty 
better  by  this  child.  I  always  passed  over  every  thing,  because  she  worked  so 
well.  My  wife  said  to  me  a  hundred  times :  '  She  is  so  pert  and  rude  to  her 
parents ;  and  if  she  has  to  teach  her  sisters,  or  do  any  thing  for  them,  she  does  it 
so  hastily  and  saucily,  and  so  entirely  without  kindness  and  affection,  that 
they  can  none  of  them  ever  learn  any  thing  from  her  1 '  But  she  works  so  well, 
we  must  excuse  something,  and  perhaps  it  is  the  fault  of  the  others,  was  always 
my  answer ;  and  now  I  have  my  reward.  I  should  have  remembered  that  if 
the  heart  be  hard,  whatever  other  good  qualities  any  one  may  have,  they  are 
all  in  vain.  One  can  not  depend  upon  them.  I  wish  my  wife  did  but  know." 

As  the  man  was  speaking  thus  to  himself,  the  bailiff  came  close  up,  without 
his  being  aware. 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  571 

"  What  darest  thou  not  tell  thy  wife  ?  "  said  he. 

Kienast  looked  up,  saw  the  bailiff,  and  said:  "Is  that  you,  bailiff?  What 
•dare  I  not  tell  my  wife?  Susan  has  hired  herself  out  to  service  in  the  town, 
and  we  have  such  need  of  her  at  home !  But  I  had  almost  forgotten  to  ask 
what  you  wanted  with  me." 

Bailiff.  "If  this  be  the  case  with  Susan,  perhaps  my  news  will  be  a  comfort 
to  thee." 

Kienast.     "That  would,  be  help  indeed/' 

Bailiff.  "  Thou  art  to  have  work  at  the  building  of  the  church,  and  twenty- 
five  kreutzers  a  day,  wages." 

Kienast.     "Lord  God  in  heaven!     May  I  hope  for  such  a  help  as  this?  " 

Bailiff.     "  Yes,  Kienast.     It  is,  indeed,  as  I  tell  thee." 

Kienast.  "Then  God  be  praised  for  it."  He  turned  faint,  and  his  limbs 
shook.  "  I  must  sit  down.  This  joy,  in  my  troubles,  has  overcome  me." 

He  sat  down  on  a  log  of  wood,  and  leaned  against  the  wall  of  the  house,  to 
keep  himself  from  falling.  . 

The  bailiff  said :   "  Thou  canst  bear  but  little !  " 

And  Kienast  answered :  "I  have  not  broken  my  fast  to-day." 

"And  so  late!  "  said  the  bailiff;  and  he  went  on  his  way. 

The  poor  wife,  from  the  house,  had  seen  the  bailiff  join  her  husband,  and 
groaned  aloud. 

"  This  is  some  fresh  misfortune!  My  husband  has  been  like  one  beside  him 
self  all  day,  and  knows  not  what  he  is  doing ;  and  just  now  I  saw  Susan,  in  the 
next  house,  lift  up  her  hands  in  a  passion  ;  and  here  is  the  bailiff — what  can  have 
happened  ?  There  is  not  a  more  unfortunate  woman  under  the  sun !  So  neai 
forty,  and  a  child  every  year,  and  care  and  want  and  pain  all  the  tune  1 "  Thus 
did  the  poor  woman  grieve  in  the  house. 

The  husband,  in  the  mean  time,  had  recovered  himself,  and  came  to  her  with 
such  a  cheerful,  happy  face  as  she  had  not  seen  for  many  a  month. 

"  Thou  lookest  merry !  Dost  thou  think  to  keep  it  from  me  that  the  bailiff 
lias  been  here  ?  "  said  the  woman. 

And  he  answered.    "He  is  come,  as  it  were,  from  heaven  to  comfort  us." 

"Is  it  possible?  "  said  the  woman. 

Kienast.  "Sit  down,  wife !  I  must  tell  thee  the  good  news."  Then  he  told 
her  what  Susan  had  done,  and  what  trouble  he  had  been  in ;  and  how,  now,  he 
was  helped  out  of  all  his  distress. 

Then  he  ate  the  food,  which  in  his  trouble  he  had  left  standing  there  at  noon; 
and  he  and  his  wife  shed  tears  of  thankfulness  to  God,  who  had  thus  helped 
them  in  their  distress.     And  they  let  Susan  go,  that  very  day,  into  service,  as 
she  wished. 
CHAPTER  xxvin. — A  SATURDAY  EVENING  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  A  BAILIFF,  WHO  is 

A   LANDLORD. 

Now  came  the  bailiff  home  from  his  journey,  tired  and  thirsty.  It  was  late  ; 
for  Kienast  lived  up  the  hill,  two  or  three  miles  from  the  village. 

In  the  mean  time  he  had  had  it  given  out  by  his  friends,  that  he  was  not  at  all 
alarmed  by  what  had  happened  yesterday ;  and  had  not  been  so  merry  and 
jovial  as  he  was  to-day,  for  a  year. 

This  made  some  take  courage,  toward  evening,  to  creep  quietly  to  the  tavern. 

When  it  began  to  be  dark,  still  more  came ;  and  at  night,  by  seven  o'clock, 
the  tables  were  almost  as  full  as  usual. 


572  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

Thus  it  happens,  when  a  fowler,  in  autumn,  shoots  a  bird  in  a  cherry-tree,  all. 
the  others,  which  were  pecking  at  the  cherries,  fly  fearfully  and  hastily  away 
from  the  tree,  chirping  the  note  of  alarm.  But,  after  a  while,  one,  a  solitary 
one  at  first,  perches  upon  the  tree — and,  if  it  no  longer  sees  the  fowler,  it 
whistles,  not  the  sound  of  danger,  but  the  bold,  loud  note  of  joy  at  finding 
food.  At  the  call  of  the  daring  adventurer,  the  others  flock  timidly  back  again, 
and  all  feed  upon  the  cherries,  as  if  the  fowler  had  never  fired. 

So  it  was  here ;  and  thus  was  the  room  once  more  filled  with  neighbors,  who 
yesterday,  and  even  this  morning,  would  not  have  ventured  to  come. 

In  all  mischievous,  and  even  wicked  deeds,  people  are  always  merry  and 
bold,  when  they  are  in  a  crowd,  and  when  those  who  give  the  tone  to  it  are 
daring  and  impudent;  and,  as  such  leaders  are  not  wanting  in  taverns,  it  can 
not  be  denied  that  such  places  tempt  the  common  people  to  all  wickedness, 
and  are  much  more  likely  to  lead  them  on  to  rash  and  thoughtless  deeds,  than 
poor  simple  schools  are  to  bring  them  up  to  a  quiet  and  domestic  life. 

The  neighbors  in  the  tavern  were  now  the  bailiff's  friends  again ;  for  they  sat 
over  his  ale.  One  began  to  say,  that  the  bailiff  was  a  manly  fellow,  and  that, 

by  G ,  nobody  had  ever  yet  mastered  him.  Another,  that  Arner  was  a  child, 

and  the  bailiff  had  managed  his  grandfather.  Another,  that  it  was  not  right ;  and, 
by  heaven,  he  could  not  answer  it  to  his  conscience,  thus  to  cheat  the  parish  of 
the  landlord's  right,  which  had  belonged  to  it  ever  since  the  days  of  Noah  and 
Abraham.  Another  swore,  that  he  had  not  got  possession,  by  thunder !  and 
that  there  should  be  a  struggle  for  it  yet,  in  spite  of  all  the  devils,  and  a  parish 
meeting  held  to-morrow. 

Then  again,  one  said,  there  is  no  need  of  that,  for  the  bailiff  had  always  over- 
come all  his  enemies  ;  and  would  not  turn  over  a  new  leaf,  either  with  his  hon- 
or the  squire,  or  with  the  beggarly  mason. 

Thus  did  the  men  go  on,  talking  and  drinking. 

The  bailiff's  wife  laughed  to  herself,  set  one  pitcher  after  another  upon  the 
table,  and  marked  all  carefully  down  with  chalk  upon  a  board  in  the  next  room. 

Now  came  the  bailiff  home ;  and  he  rejoiced  hi  his  heart  to  find  the  tables 
surrounded  by  the  old  set. 

"This  is  hearty  in  you,  my  good  fellows,  not  to  forsake  me,"  said  he  to 
them. 

"We  are  not  tired  of  thee  yet,"  answered  the  countrymen;  and  drank  his 
health,  with  loud  shouts  and  huzzas. 

"There  is  a  great  noise,  neighbors!  We  must  keep  out  of  trouble;  and  this 
is  Saturday  night,"  said  the  bailiff.  "  Put  the  shutters  to,  wife ;  and  put  out  the 
lights  toward  the  street.  We  had  better  go  into  the  back  room.  Is  it  warm, 
wife?" 

Wife.     "  Yes,  I  made  a  fire  there  on  purpose." 

Bailiff.     "  Very  well ;  carry  all  off  the  table  into  the  back  room." 

His  wife  and  the  neighbors  carried  the  glasses,  pitchers,  bread,  cheese,  knives,, 
plates,  cards,  and  dice,  into  the  back  room;  from  which,  if  they  had  been  mur- 
dering one  another,  nothing  could  have  been  heard  in  the  street. 

"  There  now,  we  are  safe  from  rogues  and  eavesdroppers,  and  from  the  holy 
servants  of  the  black  man.*  But  I  am  as  thirsty  as  a  hound :  give  me  some 
wine." 

*  Certain  church  officers,  who  reported  disturbances  to  the  pastor,  disrespectfully  called  ''Mi* 
black  man1'  by  the  godless  bailiff. 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  573 

His  wife  brought  some. 

And  Christian  said:   "Is  that  of  the  kind  the  barber's  dog  laps  up?" 

Bailiff.     "  Yes,  indeed,  I  'm  likelj^  to  be  such  a  fool  again !" 

Chris.     "But  what  devil's  scheme  had  you  in  your  head?  " 

Bailiff.  "By  G — ,  none!  It  was  mere  folly.  I  had  eaten  nothing,  and  did 
not  like  to  drink." 

Chri-s.     "Whistle  that  to  a  dog;  perhaps  it  may  believe  you :  not  I." 

Battiff.     "Why  not?" 

Chris.  "Why  not?  Because  the  wine  we  were  drinking  smelt  of  sulphur 
-like  the  plague." 

Bailiff.     "  Who  says  so  ?  " 

Chris.  "I,  Mr.  Urias!  I  said  nothing  of  it  at  the  time;  but  when  I  car- 
ried home  the  empty  jug,  it  reeked  in  my  nose  so  that  it  almost  knocked  me 
-down.  All  things  considered,  you  have  certainly  had  some  scheme  in  your 
head  to-day." 

Bailiff.  "I  know  no  more  than  the  child  in  the  cradle  what  wine  my  wife 
-sent.  Thou  art  a  fool  with  thy  fancies." 

Chris.  "Ay,  but  you  know,  well  enough,  what  a  fine  sermon  you  made  on 
the  rights  of  the  land.  I  suppose  you  said  all  that  with  as  little  meaning  as  a 
man  has  when  he  takes  a  pinch  of  snuff." 

Bailiff.  "Hold  thy  foolish  tongue,  Christian.  The  best  thing  I  could  do, 
would  be  to  have  thee  well  beaten  for  upsetting  my  jug.  But  I  must  know  now 
how  they  went  on  at  the  barber's  after  I  left  them." 

Chris.     "  And  your  promise,  bailiff." 

Bailiff.     ' '  What  promise  ?  " 

Chris.  "That  I  should  have  wine  till  morning  for  nothing,  if  I  got  to  know 
it." 

Bailiff.    "But  if  thou  knowest  nothing,  wouldst  thou  still  be  drinking?  " 

Chris.     "  If  I  know  nothing!     Send  for  the  wine,  and  you  shall  hear." 

The  bailiff  had  it  brought,  sat  down  by  him ;  then  Christian  told  him  all  he 
knew,  and  more  besides.  Sometimes  he  contradicted  himself  so  barefacedly, 
that  the  bailiff  perceived  it,  and  called  out:  "You  dog,  do 'nt  lie  so  that  a 
man  can  take  hold  of  it  with  his  hands !  " 

"No,  by  G ,"  answered  Christian,  "as  true  as  I  am  a  sinner,  every  hair 

and  point  of  it  is  true." 

"Come,  come,"  said  the  bailiff,  who  by  this  time  had  had  enough,  "Shaben 
Michel  is  here,  and  I  must  speak  to  him ; "  and  he  then  went  to  the  other  table 
where  Michel  was  sitting,  slapped  him  on  the  shoulder,  and  said : 

OHAPTER  xxix. — CONTINUATION  OP  THE  CONVERSATION  OP  ROGUES  WITH  EACH 

OTHER. 

"ART  thou  also  amongst  the  sinners?  I  thought,  since  thou  wert  called  to 
the  church  building,  thou  hadst  become  a  saint ;  like  our  butcher,  because  he 
-once  had  to  ring  a  week  for  the  sexton." 

Michel.  "No,  bailiff!  My  calls  are  not  so  sudden;  but,  when  I  once  begin, 
I  will  go  through  with  it." 

Bailiff.     "  I  should  like  to  be  thy  father  confessor,  Michel." 

Mich.     "  Nay,  I  can  not  consent  to  that." 

Bailiff.     "Why  not?" 

Mich.     "  Because  thou  wouldst  double  my  score  with  thy  holy  chalk." 


574  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

Bailiff.     "  Would  not  that  suit  thee  ?  " 

Mich.  "No,  bailiff !  I  must  have  a  father  confessor  who  will  forgive  and 
look  over  sins,  and  not  one  who  will  chalk  them  down  against  me!" 

Bailiff.     "  Well,  I  can  forgive  and  overlook  sins,  as  well  as  another  " 

Mich.     "  What !  sins  in  thy  books  ?  " 

Bailiff.  "Truly,  I  am  often  obliged  to  do  so;  and  it  is  better  people  should 
think  I  do  it  willingly." 

Mich.     "Is  that  possible,  Mr.  Bailiff  ?  " 

"  We  shall  see,"  said  the  bailiff,  making  a  sign  to  him. 

They  went  together  to  the  little  table,  near  the  fire. 

And  the  bailiff  said :   "  It  is  well  thou  art  come ;  and  lucky  for  thee." 

Mich.     "I  have  great  need  of  luck." 

Bailiff.  "  So  I  suppose ;  but  if  thou  art  willing,  thou  canst  not  fail  to  make 
money  by  this  new  place." 

Mich.     "  And  how  must  I  manage  it?  " 

Bailiff.  "  Thou  must  get  into  favor  with  the  mason,  and  seem  very  hun- 
gry and  poor." 

Mich.     "I  can  do  that  without  lying." 

Bailiff.  "  Thou  must  also  often  give  thy  supper  to  thy  children,  that  people 
may  think  thy  heart  is  as  soft  as  melted  butter ;  and  thy  children  must  run 
after  thee  bare-footed  and  bare-legged." 

Mich.     "  There  is  no  difficulty  in  that  either." 

Bailiff.  "  And  when  thou  art  the  favorite  of  all  the  ten,  then  comes  the  true 
work." 

Mich.     "  What  is  that  to  be  ?  " 

Bailiff.  "To  do  all  that  thou  canst  to  make  quarrels  and  misunderstandings 
about  the  building ;  to  throw  things  into  confusion,  and  to  make  mischief  between, 
the  laborers  and  their  masters  and  the  squire." 

Mich.     "  There  will  be  more  difficulty  in  that  part  of  the  business." 

Bailiff.     "  But  it  is  a  part  by  which  thou  mayst  get  money." 

Mich.  "Ay,  if  it  were  not  for  the  hope  of  that,  a  cunning  man  might  give 
such  a  direction,  but  only  a  fool  would  follow  it." 

Bailiff.     "It  is  a  matter  of  course,  that  thou  wilt  get  money  by  it." 

Mich.  "Two  crowns  in  hand,  Mr.  Bailiff.  I  must  have  so  much  paid  down, 
or  I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  it." 

Bailiff.  "  Thou  art  more  unconscionable  every  day,  Michel.  I  show  thee 
how  thou  mayst  get  wages  for  nothing,  and  thou  wouldst  have  me  also  pay  thee 
for  taking  my  good  advice." 

Mich.  "  What  is  all  that  to  the  purpose  ?  Thou  wilt  have  me  play  the  rogue 
in  thy  service,  and  so  I  will,  and  be  true  and  hearty  in  it ;  but  payment  in  hand, 
that  is  two  crowns,  and  not  a  kreutzer  less,  I  must  have,  or  thou  mayst  do  it 
thyself." 

Bailiff.  "Thou  dog!  thou  knowest  well  enough  how  to  get  thy  own  way. 
There  are  thy  two  crowns  for  thee." 

Mich.  ''  Now  it  is  all  right,  master !  thou  hast  nothing  to  do  but  to  give  thy 
orders." 

Bailiff.  "  I  think  thou  mayst  easily  by  night  break  down  some  of  the  scaf- 
folding, and  knock  out  a  couple  of  the  windows ;  and  of  course  thou  wilt  make- 
away  with  ropes  and  tools,  and  such  light  things  as  are  lying  around." 

Mich.     "Naturally." 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  575. 

Bailiff.  "  And  it  would  be  no  very  difficult  affair  to  carry  some  of  the  timbe? 
over  the  hill  to  the  river,  and  send  it  back  again  toward  Holland." 

Mich.  "  No,  no !  I  can  manage  that.  I  will  hang  a  great  white  shirt  upon 
a  pole,  in  the  middle  of  the  churchyard,  that  if  the  watchman,  or  any  of  the  old 
women  in  the  neighborhood  hear  a  noise,  they  may  fancy  it  is  a  ghost,  and  keep 
away  from  me." 

Bailiff.     "  Thou  art  a  rascally  heretic.     What  a  scheme  1 " 

Mich.     "  I  will  do  so,  however ;  it  may  serve  to  keep  me  from  the  pillory." 

Bailiff.  "  Well,  but  there  is  another  thing.  If  thou  canst  find  any  drawings, 
or  calculations,  or  plans  of  the  squire's,  lying  about,  thou  must  quietly  put  them 
out  of  the  way,  where  nobody  would  think  of  looking  for  them,  and  at  night 
mend  thy  fire  with  them." 

Mich.     "Very  well,  Mr.  Bailiff." 

Bailiff.  "And  thou  must  contrive  so  as  to  make  thy  honorable  comrades  in- 
clined to  be  merry,  and  work  idly,  and  particularly  when  the  squire  or  any  body 
from  the  hall  comes  down,  and  then  thou  canst  wink,  as  much  as  to  say :  You 
see  how  it  is." 

Mich.  "  Well,  I  will  do  what  I  can.  I  see  plainly  enough  what  thou  art 
after." 

Bailiff.  "  But,  of  all  things,  the  most  important  is,  that  thou  and  I  should  be 
enemies." 

Mich.     "  Very  true." 

Bailiff.  "We  will  begin  directly.  There  maybe  tell-tales  here,  who  will 
talk  of  how  we  held  counsel  secretly  together." 

Mich.     "  Thou  art  right." 

Bailiff.  "  Drink  another  glass  or  two,  and  I  will  pretend  as  if  I  would  reckon 
with  thee,  and  thou  wouldst  not  agree.  I  will  make  a  noise  about  it,  thou 
must  abuse  me,  and  we  will  thrust  thee  out  of  the  house." 

Mich.  "  Well  thought  of."  He  drank  what  was  in  the  pitcher,  and  then  said 
to  the  bailiff,  "  Come,  begin." 

The  bailiff  muttered  something  about  reckoning,  and  then  said  aloud :  "  I 
never  received  the  florin." 

Mich.     "  Recollect  yourself,  bailiff! " 

Bailiff.  "By  heaven,  I  know  nothing  of  it!  Wife!  didst  thou  receive  a 
tiorin  last  week  from  Michel  ?  " 

Wife.     "Heaven  bless  us!  not  a  kreutzer." 

Bailiff.  "  It  is  very  strange.  Give  me  the  book ! "  She  brought  it,  and  the 
oailiff  read:  "Here  it  is — Monday — nothing  from  thee.  Tuesday — nothing. 
Wednesday — Didst  thou  say  it  was  on  Wednesday  ?  " 

Mich.     "Yes!" 

Bailiff.  "Here  is  Wednesday — look!  there  is  nothing  from  thee — and  on 
Thursday,  Friday,  and  Saturday — not  a  syllable  of  the  florin." 

Mich.     "  The  devil !  I  tell  you  I  paid  it." 

Bailiff.     "  Softly,  softly,  good  neighbor — I  write  down  every  thing." 

Mich.     "What the  deuce  is  your  writing  to  me,  bailiff?     I  paid  the  florin." 

Bailiff.     "It  is  not  true,  Michel." 

Mich.     "  Here's  a  rogue,  to  say  I  have  not  paid  him  1 " 

Bailiff.     "What  dost  thou  say,  thou  unhanged  rascal?" 

iSomeof  the  countrymen  got  up: — "He  has  given  the  bailiff  the  lie,  we  heard 
him." 


,576  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

Mich.     "No,  I  did  not.     But  I  paid  the  iiorin." 

Men.  "What  dost  thou  say,  thou  knave,  that  thou  didst  not  give  him  the 
lie  ?  We  all  heard  it." 

Bailiff.     "  Turn  the  dog  out  of  the  room." 

Michel  took  up  a  knife,  and  called  out:  "Let  any  one  who  touches  me  look 
to  it." 

Bailiff.     "  Take  the  knife  away  from  him." 

They  took  the  knife  from  him,  turned  him  out  of  the  room,  and  sat  down 
again. 

Bailiff.     "  It 's  well  he  is  gone.     He  was  only  a  spy  of  the  mason's." 

Countrymen.     "By  G ,  so  he  was.     We  are  well  rid  of  him." 

CHAPTER  xxx. — CONTINUATION  OF  THE  CONVERSATION  OF  ROGUES  WITH  EACH 

OTHER,    IN   A   DIFFERENT   STYLE. 

BRING  us  some  more  wine.  Bailiff!  we  will  drink  on  the  strength  of  the 
harvest,  and  let  you  have  one  sheaf  out  of  every  ten  for  a  measure  of  wine. 

Bailiff.     "  You  will  not  pay  me  soon,  then." 

Countrymen.     "  No ;  but  you  will  have  heavier  weight  for  that." 

The  bailiff  sat  down  with  them,  and  drank  to  their  hearts'  content,  on  the 
strength  of  the  future  tithe. 

Now  their  mouths  were  opened,  and  there  arose  from  all  the  tables  a  wild  up- 
roar of  oaths  and  curses,  of  dissolute,  idle  talk,  of  abuse  and  insolence.  They 
told  stories  of  licentiousness  and  theft,  of  blows  and  insults,  of  debts  they  had 
cunningly  escaped  paying,  of  lawsuits  they  had  won  by  clever  tricks,  of  wicked- 
ness and  riots,  which  for  the  most  part  were  false ;  but,  alas  1  too  much  was 
true.  How  they  had  stolen  from  the  old  squire's  woods,  and  fields,  and  tithes — 
and  how  their  wives  whined  over  their  children — how  one  took  up  a  prayer- 
book,  and  another  hid  the  jug  of  wine  in  the  chaff  and  straw.  Also  of  their 
boys  and  girls, — how  one  helped  his  father  to  cheat  his  mother,  and  another  took 
part  with  the  mother  against  the  father — and  how  they  had  all  done  as  much  or 
more  when  they  were  lads.  Then  they  got  to  talking  about  old  Uli,  who  had 
been  caught  in  such  fool's  talk,  and  cruelly  brought  to  the  gallows ;  but  how  he 
had  prayed  at  last  and  made  a  holy  end  of  it.  And  how,  when  he  had  confess- 
ed, (though,  as  every  body  knew,  but  half,)  still  the  hard-hearted  pastor  had  not 
saved  his  life. 

They  were  in  the  midst  of  this  history  of  the  pastor's  cruelty,  when  the  bailiff's 
wife  beckoned  him  to  come  out.  "Wait  till  we  have  finished  the  story  of  the 
hanged  man,"  was  his  answer. 

But  she  whispered  in  his  ear:   "Joseph  is  come." 

He  replied :   "  Hide  him  somewhere,  and  I  will  come  soon." 

Joseph  had  crept  into  the  kitchen ;  but  there  were  so  many  people  in  the 
house,  that  the  bailiff's  wife  was  afraid  of  his  being  seen.  She  put  out  the  light, 
and  said  to  him :  "  Joseph !  take  off  thy  shoes,  and  come  after  me  into  the  lower 
room.  My  husband  will  be  with  thee  directly." 

Joseph  took  his  shoes  in  his  hand,  and  followed  her  on  tip-toe  into  the  lower 
room. 

He  had  not  waited  long,  before  the  bailiff  came  to  him,  and  said :  "  What  dost 
thou  want  so  late,  Joseph  ?" 

Joseph.  "  Not  much !  I  only  want  to  tell  you  I  have  ordered  all  about  the 
stone." 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  577 

Bailiff.     "I  am  glad  of  it,  Joseph." 

Joseph.  "The  master  was  talking  to-day  of  the  wall,  and  said  that  the  flint 
«tone,  hard  by,  was  very  good — but  I  told  him  he  was  a  fool,  and  did  not  know 
his  own  business ;  and  that  the  wall  would  look  much  handsomer,  and  more 
polished,  of  Schwendi  stone.  He  answered  not  a  word ;  and  I  went  on  to  say 
that,  if  he  did  not  use  Schwendi  stone,  it  would  be  a  loss  to  him." 

Bailiff.     "  Did  he  resolve  upon  it  ?  " 

Joseph.     "Yes,  he  did,  immediately.     "We  are  to  begin  with  it  on  Monday." 

Bailiff.     "  The  day -laborers  are  all  going  to  the  hall  on  Monday." 

Joseph.  "  They  will  be  back  by  noon,  and  busy  with  the  stuff  in  the  lime. 
It  is  as  good  as  mixed." 

Bailiff.  "  That  is  all  right  and  well ;  if  it  were  only  begun — thy  money  is 
ready  for  thee,  Joseph." 

Joseph.     "I  am  in  great  want  of  it  just  now,  bailiff." 

Bailiff.  "  Come  on  Monday,  when  you  have  begun  with  the  quarry.  It  is  pni 
Aside  for  thee." 

Joseph.     "Do  you  suppose  I  shall  not  keep  my  word?  " 

Bailiff.     "Nay,  I  can  trust  thee,  Joseph." 

Joseph.  "  Then  give  me  three  crowns  of  it,  now.  I  should  like  to  get  my 
•new  boots,  at  the  shoemaker's,  for  to-morrow ;  it  is  my  birth-day,  and  I  dare 
not  ask  the  master  for  any  money." 

Bailiff.     "I  can  not  well  give  it  thee  now;  come  on  Monday  evening." 

Joseph.  "  I  see  how  you  trust  me.  It 's  one  thing  to  promise,  and  another 
to  perform.  I  thought  I  could  depend  upon  the  money,  bailiff." 

Bailiff.     "  On  my  soul  thou  shalt  have  it." 

Joseph.     "  Ay,  I  see  how  it  is." 

Bailiff.     "It  will  be  time  enough,  on  Monday." 

Joseph.  "Bailiff!  you  show  me,  plainly  enough,  that  you  do  not  trust  me: 
and  I  will  make  bold  to  tell  you,  that  I  fear,  if  the  quarry  is  once  opened,  you 
will  not  keep  yow  word  with  me." 

Bailiff.  "  This  is  too  bad,  Joseph !  I  shall  most  certainly  keep  my  word  with 
thee." 

Joseph.     "I  do  not  believe  it.     If  you  will  not  give  it  me  now;  it  is  all  over.'' 

Bailiff.     " Canst  thou  not  manage  with  two  crowns? " 

Joseph.  "No!  I  must  have  three;  but  then  you  may  depend  upon  having 
^very  thing  done." 

Bailiff.     ""Well,  I  will  give  thee  them:  but  thou  must  keep  thy  word." 

Joseph.  "If  I  do  not,  I  give  you  leave  to  call  me  the  greatest  rogue  ana 
thief  upon  the  earth." 

The  bailiff  now  called  his  wife  and  said:  "Give  Joseph  three  crowns." 

His  wife  took  him  aside  and -said:  "  Do  not  let  him  have  them." 

Bailiff.     "  Do  as  I  bid  thee,  without  a  word." 

Wife.     "  Be  not  so  foolish !     Thou  art  in  liquor  and  wilt  repent  to-morrow." 

Bailiff.  "  Answer  me  not  a  word.  Three  crowns  this  moment!  Dost  thou 
hear  what  I  say  ?  " 

His  wife  sighed,  reached  the  money,  and  threw  it  to  the  bailiff.  He  gave  it 
to  Joseph,  and  said:  "Thou  wilt  not,  surely,  deceive  me." 

"Heaven  forbid!  what  dost  thou  take  me  for,  bailiff?"  answered  Joseph. 
And  he  went  away,  counted  over  his  three  crowns,  and  said  to  himself:  "  Now 

aave  my  reward  ;n  my  own  hands,  and  it  is  safer  there  than  in  the  bailiff's 

37 


578  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

chest.  He  is  an  old  rogue,  and  I  will  not  be  his  fool.  The  master  may  now 
take  flint  or  blue  stone  for  me." 

The  bailiff's  wife  cried  for  vexation,  over  the  kitchen  fire,  and  did  not  go  again, 
into  the  room,  till  past  midnight. 

The  bailiff  too,  as  soon  as  Joseph  was  gone,  had  a  foreboding  that  he  had 
overreached  himself,  but  he  soon  forgot  it  again,  amongst  his  companions.  The 
riot  of  the  drinkers  lasted  till  after  midnight. 

At  last  the  bailiff's  wife  came  out  of  the  kitchen,  into  the  room,  and  said :  "  It 
is  time  to  break  up  now ;  it  is  past  midnight,  and  Easter  Sunday." 

"Easter  Sunday!"  said  the  fellows,  stretched  themselves,  yawned,  and  got  up, 
one  after  the  other. 

They  tottered  and  stumbled  along,  catching  hold  of  the  tables  and  walls,  and; 
went  with  difficulty  home  again. 

"Go,  one  at  once,  and  make  no  noise,"  said  the  wife,  "or  the  pastor  and  hi& 
people  will  get  hold  of  you,  and  make  you  pay  the  fine." 

"  Nay,  we  had  better  keep  our  money  for  drinking."  answered  the  men.  And 
the  wife  added :  "  If  you  see  the  watchman,  tell  him  there  is  a  glass  of  wine 
and  a  piece  of  bread  for  him  here." 

They  had  scarcely  got  out  of  the  house  when  the  watchman  appeared  before 
the  alehouse  windows,  and  called  out : 

"All  good  people  hear  my  warning, 
*Tis  one  o'clock,  and  a  cloudy  morning." 

The  bailiff's  wife  understood  his  call,  and  brought  him  the  wine,  and  bade 
him  not  to  tell  the  pastor  how  late  they  had  been  up. 

And  now  she  helped  her  sleepy,  drunken  husband  off  with  his  shoes  aad 
stockings. 

And  she  grumbled  about  Joseph's  crowns,  and  her  husband's  foolishness. 
But  he  slept  and  snored,  and  took  notice  of  nothing.  And  at  last  they  both  fell, 
asleep,  on  the  holy  evening  before  Easter. 

And  now,  thank  God,  I  have  no  more  to  relate  about  them,  for  some  time. 

[  return  to  Leonard  and  Gertrude. 

What  a  world  is  this  1  A  garden  lies  near  a  dog-kennel,  and  in  the  same 
field  an  offensive  dunghill  and  sweet  nourishing  grass.  Yes,  it  is  indeed  a  won- 
derful world  1  The  beautiful  pasture  itself,  without  the  manure  which  we  throw 
upon  it,  could  not  produce  such  delicious  herbage. 

CHAPTER  xxxi. — THE  EVENING  BEFORE  A  SABBATH  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  A  GOOD 

MOTHER. 

GERTRUDE  was  »ow  alone  with  her  children.  The  events  of  the  week  and 
the  approach  of  the  Sabbath  filled  her  heart. 

Thoughtfully  and  silently  she  prepared  the  supper, 'and  took  out  of  the  chest 
her  husband's,  her  children's,  and  her  own  Sunday  clothes,  that  nothing  might 
distract  her  attention  in  the  morning.  And  when  she  had  arranged  every  thing, 
she  sat  down  at  the  table  with  her  children. 

It  was  her  custom  every  Saturday,  when  the  time  for  evening  prayer  came,  to 
impress  upon  their  hearts  the  recollection  of  their  various  failings,  and  of  all  the 
events  of  the  week  which  might  be  of  consequence  to  them. 

And  this  day  she  was  particularly  alive  to  the  goodness  of  God  toward  them 
throughout  the  week,  and  wished  to  fix  it  as  deeply  as  possible  upon  their  young 
hearts,  that  they  might  never  forget  it. 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE  579 

The  children  sat  a^o.nd  her,  folded  their  little  hauds  for  prayer,  and  their 
mother  thus  addressed  tnem : — 

"  I  have  something  very  good  to  tell  you,  ray  children !  Your  dear  father  has 
got  some  very  good  work  this  week,  by  which  he  will  be  able  to  earn  much 
more  than  usual ;  and  we  may  venture  to  hope  that  we  shall  in  future  have  our 
daily  bread  with  less  care  and  anxiety. 

"Thank  your  heavenly  father,  my  children,  for  his  mercy  to  us,  and  do  not 
forget  the  former  times,  when  I  had  to  be  sparing  of  every  mouthful  of  bre?d. 
It  was  often  a  great  trouble  to  me,  not  to  be  able  to  give  you  enough,  but  God 
A.1  mighty  knew  that  he  would  help  us  in  his  own  good  time,  and  that  it  was 
better  for  you,  my  darlings,  to  be  brought  up  in  poverty,  in  patience,  and  in  the 
'labit  of  overcoming  your  desires,  than  in  abundance.  It  is  very  difficult  for 

iople,  who  have  all  they  wish  for,  not  to  become  thoughtless  and  forgetful  of 
rod,  and  unmindful  of  what  is  for  their  real  good.  Remember  then,  my  chil- 
Iren,  as  long  as  you  live,  the  want  and  care  you  have  undergone ;  and  when 
vou  are  yourselves  better  off,  think  of  those  who  suffer  as  you  have  suffered. 
Never  forget  what  it  is  to  feel  hunger  and  want,  that  you  may  be  tender-hearted 
to  the  poor,  and  willingly  give  them  all  you  have  to  spare.  Do  you  think  you 
shall  be  willing  to  give  it  to  them,  my  children  ?  "  "0  yes,  mother,  that  we 
shall !  "  said  all  the  children. 

CHAPTER  xxxn. — THE  HAPPINESS  OP  THE  HOUR  OP  PRAYEE. 

Mother.     "Nicholas,  who  dost  thou  think  suffers  most  from  hunger?  " 

Nicholas.  "  Rudeli,  mother !  you  were  at  his  father's  yesterday.  He  musv 
be  almost  dying  of  hunger,  for  he  eats  grass  off  the  ground." 

Mother.  "Shouldst  thou  like  sometimes  to  give  him  thy  afternoon's, 
brend?" 

Nick.     "0  yes,  mother!  may  L give  it  him  to-morrow ?" 

Mother.     "  Yes,  thou  mayst." 

Nich.     "I  am  glad  of  it." 

Mother.     "And  thou,  Lise!  to  whom  wilt  thou  sometimes  give  thy  piece?" 

List..     "  I  can  not  tell,  just  now,  whom  I  shall  like  best  to  give  it  to." 

Mothe-i .     "  Dost  thou  not  recollect  any  poor  child  who  is  very  hungry  ?  " 

Lise.     "  0  yes,  mother." 

Mother.  "  Then  why  canst  thou  not  tell  to  whom  thou  wilt  give  it?  thou  art 
always  so  overwise,  Lise." 

Lise.     "  I  know  now,  mother." 

Mother.     "Who  is  it?" 

Lise.  "  Marx  Reuti's  daughter,  Betheli.  I  saw  her  picking  up  rotten  potatoes, 
from  the  bailiff's  dunghill,  to-day." 

Nich.  "  Yes,  mother,  and  I  saw  her  too ;  and  felt  in  all  my  pockets,  but  I  had 
not  a  mouthful  of  bread  left.  If  I  had  only  kept  it  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
longer ! " 

The  mother  then  asked  the  other  children  the  same  questions,  and  they  were 
all  glad  in  their  hearts  to  think  that  they  should  give  their  bread  to  the  poor 
children  to-morrow. 

The  mother  let  them  enjoy  this  pleasure  a  while  longer.  Then  she  said  to 
them :  "That  is  enough,  children !  think  how  good  the  squire  has  been  to  make 
you  each  a  present." 

"0  yes,  our  pretty  money !     Will  you  show  it  us,  now,  mother?  " 


580  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

"By  and  by,  iftcr  prayer,"  said  the  mother;  and  the  childre  jumped  about 
for  joy." 

CHAPTER  xxxra. — THE  SERIOUSNESS  OF  THE  HOUR  OF  PRAYER. 
"  You  are  noisr,  my  children,"  said  the  mother.  "  When  any  thing  good  hap- 
pens to  you,  think  of  God,  who  gives  us  all  things.  If  you  do  so,  you  will 
never  be  wild  and  riotous  in  your  joy.  I  am  very  glad  to  rejoice  with  you,  my 
darlings,  but  when  people  are  wild  and  riotous  in  their  joy,  they,  lose  the  serenity 
and  peace  of  their  hearts ;  and,  without  a  quiet,  tranquil  heart,  there  is  no  true 
happiness.  Therefore  must  we  keep  God  ever  in  view.  This  is  the  use  of  the 
hour  for  morning  and  evening  prayer,  that  you  may  never  forget  him.  For  who- 
ever is  praying  to  God,  or  thinking  of  him,  can  neither  be  extravagant  in  joy 
i-or  without  comfort  in  sorrow.  But  then,  my  children,  he  must  always  endeavo" 
particularly  when  he  is  praying,  to  keep  himself  quiet  and  untroubled.  Co& 
aider,  whenever  you  thank  your  father  for  any  thing  sincerely,  you  are  not  noisy 
and  riotous.  You  fall  softly,  and  with  few  words,  on  his  neck ;  and  when  you 
feel  it  really  in  your  hearts,  the  tears  come  into  your  eyes.  It  is  the  same 
toward  God.  If  his  loving  kindness  really  rejoices  you,  and  your  hearts  are 
truly  thankful,  you  will  not  make  a  great  noise  and  talking  about  it — but  the 
tears  will  come  into  your  eyes,  when  you  think  how  merciful  he  is  toward  you. 
Wius  all  that  fills  your  hearts  with  gratitude  to  God  and  kindness  to  men,  is  a 
continual  prayer;  and  whoever  prays  as  he  ought,  will  do  what  is  right,  and 
arill  be  dear  to  God  and  man.  as  long  as  he  lives." 

Nicholas.  "And,  mother,  you  said,  yesterday,  that  we  should  be  dear  to  the 
gracious  squire,  if  we  did  what  was  right." 

Mother.  "  Yes,  my  children,  he  is  a  good  and  religious  gentleman.  May  God 
reward  him,  for  all  he  has  done  for  us.  I  wish  thou  mayst  become  dear  to  him, 
Nicholas!" 

Nidi.  "  I  will  obey  him,  because  he  is  so  good,  as  I  obey  you  and  my 
father." 

Mother.  "That  is  right,  Nicholas!  always  think  so,  and  thou  wilt  certainly 
oecome  dear  to  him." 

Nich.     "If  I  durst  but  speak  a  word  to  him !  " 

Mother.     "  What  wouldst  thou  say  to  him?  " 

Nich.     "  I  would  thank  him  for  the  pretty  money." 

Anneli.     "  Durst  you  thank  him  ?  " 

Nich.     "Why  not?" 

Anndi.     "  I  durst  not." 

Lise.     "  Nor  I !  " 

Mother.     "Why  durst  you  not,  children?" 

Lise.     "  I  should  laugh." 

Mother.  "Why  wouldst  thou  laugh,  Lise,  and  so  show  him,  plainly,  that  thou 
Tvert  but  a  silly  child  ?  If  thou  hadst  not  many  foolish  fancies  in  thy  head,  tfaou 
vouldst  never  think  of  doing  such  a  thing." 

Anneli.     "I  should  not  laugh ;  but  I  should  be  sadly  frightened." 

Mother.  "He  would  take  thee  by  the  hand,  Anneli,  and  smile  upon  thee,  as 
,hy  father  does  when  he  is  very  kind  to  thee,  and  then  thou  wouldst  not  be 
frightened  any  longer." 

Anneli.     "  No,  not  then." 

Jonas.     "Nor  I,  then." 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  53] 

CHAPTER  xxxiv. — A  MOTHER'S  INSTRUCTION. 

Mother.  "  But,  my  dear  children,  how  have  you  gone  on,  as  to  behavior,  this 
week  ?  " 

The  children  looked  at  each  other,  without  speaking. 

Mother.     "Anneli,  hast  thou  done  what  was  right  this  week? " 

Anneli.     "  No,  mother,  you  know  I  did  not  do  right  about  little  brother." 

Mother.  "Anneli,  some  misfortune  might  have  happened  to  him.  There  have 
been  children  suffocated  with  being  left  in  that  way.  And  how  wouldst  thou 
like,  thyself,  to  be  shut  up  in  a  room,  and  left  to  hunger,  and  thirst,  and  cry 
alone?  Besides,  little  children,  when  they  are  left  long  without  anybody  to 
help  them,  get  into  a  passion,  and  scream  so  dreadfully,  that  it  may  do  them  a 

'schief  as  long  as  they  live.     Anneli !  God  knows,  I  could  not  have  a  moment's 

oace  out  of  the  house,  if  I  had  reason  to  be  afraid  that  thou  wouldst  not  take 

•oper  care  of  the  child." 

Anneli.     "  Indeed,  mother,  I  will  not  go  away  from  him  any  more." 

Mother.  "  I  do  trust  thou  wilt  never  put  me  into  such  a  fright  again.  And 
Nicholas,  how  hast  thou  gone  on  this  last  week  ?  " 

Nicholas.     "I  don't  know  of  any  thing  wrong." 

Mother.     "Hast  thou  forgotten  knocking  over  thy  little  sister  on  Monday? " 

Nich.     "I  did  not  do  it  on  purpose,  mother." 

Mother.  "  If  thou  hadst  done  it  on  purpose,  it  would  have  been  bad  indeed. 
Art  thou  not  ashamed  of  talking  so  ?  " 

Nick.     "  I  am  sorry  1  did  it,  mother ;  and  will  not  do  so  again." 

Motiier.  "  When  thou  art  grown  up,  if  thou  takest  no  more  heed  of  what  is 
dear  thee  and  about  thee,  thou  will  have  to  learn  it  to  thy  cost.  Even  amongst 
ooys,  those  who  are  so  heedless  are  always  getting  into  scrapes  and  disputes ; 
and  I  am  afraid,  my  dear  Nicholas,  that  thy  carelessness  will  bring  thee  into 
great  trouble  and  difficulties." 

Nich.     "  I  will  take  pains  to  be  more  thoughtful,  mother." 

Mother.  "  Do  so,  my  dear  bo}r,  or,  believe  me,  thou  wilt  often  be  very  un 
happy." 

Nich.  "My  dear  mother,  I  know  it,  and  am  sure  of  it,  and  I  will  certainly 
.ake  heed." 

Mother.     "And  thou,  Lise,  how  hast  thou  gone  on? " 

Lise.     "I  know  of  nothing  at  all  this  week,  mother." 

Mother.     "Art  thou  sure  ?" 

Lise.  "I  can  not  now  think  of  any  thing,  mother ;  or  I  am  sure  I  would 
.villingly  tell  you  of  it." 

Mother.  "Thou  hast  always,  even  when  thou  knowest  nothing,  as  many 
words  to  utter  as  if  thou  hadst  a  great  deal  to  say." 

Lise.     "What  have  I  been  saying  now,  mother?" 

Mother.  "  Nothing  at  all,  and  yet  many  words.  It  is  in  this  way,  as  we  have 
told  thee  a  thousand  times,  that  thou  art  foolish.  Thou  dost  not  think  about 
any  thing  thou  hast  to  say,  and  yet  must  always  be  talking.  What  need  was 
there  for  thee  to  tell  the  bailiff,  yesterday,  that  we  knew  that  Arner  was  coming 
soon?" 

Lise.     "  I  am  sorry  I  did  so,  mother." 

Mother.  "We  have  so  often  told  thee  not  to  talk  of  what  does  not  concern 
iee,  particularly  before  strangers,  and  yet  thou  dost  so  still.  Suppose  thy  father 


582  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

and  been  afraid  of  telling  him  that  he  knew  it  before,  and  thy  prating  had 
brought  him  into  trouble." 

Lise.  "  I  should  have  been  very  sorry,  but  neither  of  you  had  said  a  word 
that  it  was  to  be  a  secret." 

Mother.  "  Well,  I  will  tell  thy  father,  when  he  comes  home,  that  whenever 
we  are  talking  to  each  other  in  the  room,  we  must  add,  after  every  sentence: 
'Lise  may  tell  this  to  the  neighbors,  or  at  the  well — but  not  this — nor  this — but 
again  she  may — and  then  thou  wilt  know  what  thou  mayst  chatter  about.' " 

Lise.     "Forgive  me,  mother,  I  did  not  mean  it  so/' 

Mother.  "  We  have  told  thee  repeatedly,  that  thou  must  not  talk  about  what 
does  not  concern  thee ;  but  it  is  useless.  We  can  not  cure  thee  of  this  failing, 
but  by  treating  it  seriously ;  and  the  first  time  that  I  find  thee  again  chattering 
so  thoughtlessly,  I  will  punish  thee  with  the  rod." 

The  tears  came  into  Lise's  eyes  when  her  mother  talked  of  the  rod.  Tig 
mother  saw  them,  and  said  to  her:  "  Lise.  the  greatest  misfortunes  often  happen 
from  thoughtless  chattering,  and  thou  must  be  cured  of  this  fault." 

In  this  manner  she  spoke  to  them  all,  even  to  the  little  one ;  "  Thou  must  not 
call  out  so  impatiently  for  thy  supper  any  more,  or  I  shall  make  thee  wait  longer 
the  next  time;  or,  perhaps,  give  it  to  one  of  the  others." 

When  this  was  all  over,  the  children  said  their  usual  evening  prayer,  and  after- 
ward the  Saturday  prayer,  which  Gertrude  had  taught  them,  and  which  was  as 
follows  :— 

CHAPTER  xxxv. — A  SATURDAY  EVENING  PRAYER. 

"  HEAVENLY  Father !  thou  art  ever  kind  to  the  children  of  men,  and  thou  art 
<ind  also  to  us.  Thou  suppliest  our  daily  wants.  All  comes  from  thee.  Our 
oread,  and  all  that  we  receive  from  our  parents,  thou  hast  first  bestowed  upon 
them,  and  they  willingly  give  it  to  us.  They  rejoice  in  all  which  thou  enablest 
them  to  do  for  us,  and  bid  us  be  thankful  unto  thee  for  it.  They  tell  us  that  if 
they  had  not  learned  to  know  and  love  thee,  they  should  not  so  love  us ;  and 
that  if  they  were  unmindful  of  thee,  they  should  do  much  less  for  us.  They  bid 
us  be  thankful  to  the  Saviour  of  men,  that  they  have  learned  to  know  and  love 
thee ;  and  they  teach  us  that  those  who  do  not  know  and  love  him,  and  follow 
all  the  holy  laws  which  he  has  given  to  men,  can  neither  so  well  love  thee,  nor 
bring  up  their  children  so  piously  and  carefully  as  those  who  believe  in  the 
Saviour.  Our  parents  teach  us  many  things  of  Jesus,  the  Messiah ;  what  great 
things  he  did  for  the  children  of  men;  how  he  passed  his  life  in  suffering  and 
distress,  and  at  last  died  upon  the  cross,  that  he  might  make  men  happy  in  time 
and  eternity ;  how  God  raised  him  again  from  the  dead ;  and  how  he  now  sits 
at  the  right  hand  of  the  throne  of  God  his  Father,  in  the  glory  of  heaven,  and 
still  loves  all  the  children  of  men,  and  seeks  to  make  them  blessed  and  happy. 
It  goes  to  our  hearts  when  we  hear  of  our  blessed  Saviour.  0,  may  we  learn  so 
to  live  as  to  obtain  favor  in  his  sight,  and  at  last  be  received  unto  him  in  heaven. 

"Almighty  Father  I  we  poor  children,  who  here  pray  together,  are  brothers  and 
sisters ;  therefore  may  we  always  love  one  another,  and  never  hurt  each  other, 
out  be  kind  and  good  to  each  other  whenever  we  have  the  opportunity.  May 
we  carefully  watch  over  the  little  ones,  that  our  dear  parents  may  follow  their 
•vork  and  earn  their  bread,  without  anxiety.  It  is  all  we  can  do,  to  help  then- 
for  the  trouble  and  care  they  have  had  on  our  account.  Reward  them,  0 
heavenly  Father,  for  all  they  have  done  for  us ;  and  may  we  be  obedient  ta 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  5Q3 

'them  in  all  which  they  require  from  us,  that  they  may  love  us  to  the  end  of 
their  lives,  and  be  rewarded  for  all  the  faithful  kindness  they  have  shown  us. 

"0,  Almighty  God  1  may  we,  on  the  approaching  Sabbath,  be  truly  mindful  of 
all  thy  goodness,  and  of  the  love  of  Christ  Jesus ;  and  also  of  all  that  our  dear 
puivnts  and  friends  do  for  us,  that  we  maybe  thankful  and  obedient  to  God  and 
man,  and  walk  before  thee  in  love  all  the  days  of  our  lives." 

Here  Nicholas  paused,  and  Gertrude  added,  with  reference  to  the  events  of 
the  week  :  ;-  We  thank  thee,  Heavenly  Father,  that  thou  hast  this  week  relieved 
our  dear  parents  from  their  anxious  care  for  our  nourishment  and  support,  and 
given  unto  our  father  a  good  and  profitable  employment.  We  thank  thee  that 
our  chief  magistrate  is,  with  a  truly  parental  heart,  our  protector  and  our  help 
in  all  misfortunes  and  distress.  We  thank  thee  for  the  goodness  of  the  lord  of 

•*  manor.     If  it  be  thy  will,  may  we  grow  up  to  serve  and  please  him,  who  is 

Tis  as  a  father." 

Then  Lize  repeated  after  her :   "  Forgive  me,  0,  my  God,  my  besetting  fault, 

.d  teach  me  to  bridle  my  tongue ;  to  be  silent  when  I  ought  not  to  speak,  and 
nrefully  and  thoughtfully  to  answer  the  questions  I  am  asked." 

And  Nicholas :  "  Guard  me  in  future,  0,  Heavenly  Father,  from  my  hasti- 
iss ;  and  teach  me  to  give  heed  to  what  I  am  doing,  and  to  those  who  are 
ear  me." 

And  Anneli :  "  I  repent,  0  my  God,  that  I  so  thoughtlessly  left  my  little 
>rother,  and  alarmed  my  dear  mother.  May  I  do  so  no  more." 

Then  the  mother  said,  further : 

"Lord!  hear  us  I 

"  Father,  forgive  us  I 

"  Christ  have  mercy  upon  us ! 

Then  Nicholas  repeated  the  Lord's  prayer. 

And  Enne  added :  "May  God  bless  our  dear  father,  and  mother,  and  bi others, 
and  sisters,  and  our  kind  benefactor,  and  all  good  men." 

And  Lise :  "  In  the  name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the 
Holy  Ghost." 

Mother.  "May  God  be  with  you,  and  keep  you  I  May  he  lift  up  the  light 
of  his  countenance  upon  you,  and  be  merciful  to  you  for  ever!  " 

The  children  and  their  mother  remained  for  a  time  in  that  stillness,  whicli 
must  always  succeed  a  prayer  from  the  heart. 

CHAPTER  xxxvi. — PURE  DEVOTION  AND  LIFTING  UP  OF  THE  SOUL  TO  GOD. 

LISE  broke  this  silence:  "  Now  will  you  show  us  our  presents,"  said  she  t<; 
her  mother. 

"  Yes,  I  win,"  replied  the  mother.  "  But  Lize,  thou  art  always  the  first  to 
speak." 

Nicholas  jumped  from  his  seat,  rushed  past  his  little  sister,  to  be  nearer  the 
light,  that  he  might  see  the  money,  and,  in  so  doing,  pushed  the  child  so  that  i* 
cried  out. 

Then  said  the  mother :  "Nicholas,  this  is  not  right.  It  is  not  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  since  thou  gavest  thy  promise  to  be  more  careful,  and  now  thou  art  doing 
the  same  thing  again." 

Nicholas.     "  0,  mother,  I  am  very  sorry.     I  will  never  do  so  again." 

Mother.  "  So  thou  saidst  just  now  before  God,  and  yet  thou  dost  it  again 
Thou  art  not  in  real  earnest." 


584  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE 

Nick.  "  0,  indeed,  mother,  I  am  in  earnest.  Forgive  me  !  I  am,  indeed,  ir 
earnest,  and  very  sorry." 

Mother.  "  And  so  am  I,  Nicholas ;  but  thou  wilt  forget  again  if  I  do  not 
punish  thee.  Thou  must  go  without  supper  to  bed.  As  she  spoke,  she  led  the 
boy  away  from  the  other  children  into  his  room.  His  sisters  stood  all  sorrow- 
fully around.  They  were  troubled,  because  Nicholas  might  not  eat  with 
them." 

"Why  will  you  not  let  me  teach  you  by  kindness  alone,  my  children,"  said 
.he  mother. 

"0,  let  him  be  with  us  this  once,"  said  the  children. 
"No,  my  loves,  he  must  be  cured  of  his  carelessness,"  said  the  mother. 
"  Then  do  not  let  us  see  the  presents  till  to-morrow,  when  he  can  look  at  them 
with  us,"  said  Anneli. 

Mother.     "That  is  right,  Anneli.     Yes,  he  may  see  them  with  you  then." 
Then  she  gave  the  children  their  supper,  and  went  with  them  into  their  room 
where  Nicholas  was  still  weeping. 

"Take  care,  another  time,  my  dearest  boy,"  said  his  mother  to  him. 
Nicholas.     "Only  forgive  me,  my  dear,  dear  mother.     Only  forgive  me  and 
kiss  me,  and  I  will  willingly  go  without  supper. 

Then  Gertrude  kissed  her  son,  and  a  warm  tear  fell  upon  his  cheek,  as  she 
said  to  him :  ':  0,  Nicholas,  Nicholas,  be  careful ! "  Nicholas  threw  his  arms 
around  his  mother's  neck  and  said :  "  My  dear  mother,  forgive  me." 
Gertrude  then  blessed  her  children,  and  went  again  into  her  room. 
She  was  now  quite  alone.  A  little  lamp  burnt  faintly  in  the  room,  her  heart 
was  devoutly  still ;  and  the  stillness  was  a  prayer  which,  without  words,  moved 
her  inmost  spirit.  A  feeling  of  the  presence  of  God,  and  of  his  goodness ;  a 
feeling  of  hope  of  an  eternal  life,  and  of  the  inward  happiness  of  the  man  who 
puts  his  trust  and  confidence  in  his  Almighty  Father ;  all  this  filled  her  soul 
with  deep  emotion,  so  that  she  sunk  upon  her  knees,  and  a  flood  of  tears  rolled 
down  her  cheeks. 

Blessed  are  the  tears  of  the  child,  when,  touched  by  a  father's  goodness,  he 
looks  sobbing  back  upon  the  past,  dries  his  eyes,  and  seeks  to  recover  himself, 
before  he  can  stammer  out  the  thankfulness  of  his  heart.  Blessed  were  the 
tears  of  Nicholas,  which  he  wept  at  this  moment,  because  he  had  displeased  his 
good  mother,  who  was  so  dear  to  him. 

Blessed  are  the  tears  of  all  who  weep  from  a  pure  child-like  heart. 
The  Lord  of  heaven  looks  down  upon  the  sobbing  forth  of  their  gratitude, 
and  upon  the  tears  of  their  eyes,  when  they  spring  from  affection. 

He  saw  the  tears  of  Gertrude,  and  heard  the  sobbing  of  her  heart ;  and  the 
offering  of  her  thanks  was  an  acceptable  sacrifice  to  him ;  Gertrude  wept  long 
before  the  Lord  her  God,  and  her  eyes  were  still  moist  when  her  husband 
came  home. 

"Why  dost  thou  weep,  Gertrude?  thy  eyes  are  red  and  full  of  tears!  Why 
dost  thou  weep  to-day,  Gertrude  ?  " 

Gertrude  answered :  "  My  dear  husband,  these  are  not  tears  of  sorrow : — be 
not  afraid.  I  wished  to  thank  God  for  this  week,  and  my  heart  was  so  full  that 
I  fell  upon  my  knees ;  I  could  not  speak  for  weeping,  and  yet  it  seemed  to  me 
as  if  I  had  never  so  thanked  God  before." 

"0,  my  love,"  answered  Leonard,  "I  wish  I  could  so  quickly  lift  up  my  soul, 
and  pour  forth  my  heart  in  tears.  It  is  now  my  firm  resolution  to  do  what  if* 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  535, 

right,  and  to  be  just  and  thankful  toward  God  and  man ;  but  I  shall  never  be 
able  to  fall  upon  my  knees  thus  and  shed  tears." 

Gertrude.  "  If  thou  art  only  earnestly  resolved  to  do  what  is  right,  all  the 
rest  is  of  little  consequence.  One  has  a  weak  voice  and  another  a  strong  one, 
but  that  signifies  little.  It  is  only  the  use  to  which  they  are  applied,  which  is 
of  importance.  My  clear  husband,  tears  are  nothing,  and  bended  knees  are 
nothing ;  but  the  resolution  to  do  justly,  and  be  thankful  toward  God  and  man 

every  thing.  That  one  man  is  more  easily  affected  and  another  less  so,  is  of 
o  more  consequence  than  that  one  worm  crawls  through  the  earth  more  easily 
ian  another.  If  thou  art  only  in  earnest,  my  love,  thou  art  sure  to  find  him 
vho  is  the  father  of  all  men." 

Leonard,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  let  his  head  fall  upon  her  neck,  and  she  leaned 
ler  face  over  his,  with  melancholy  tenderness. 

They  remained  thus  for  a  while,  still  and  deeply  affected,  and  were  silent. 

At  last  Gertrude  said  :   "Wilt  thou  not  eat  to-night?  " 

"I  can  not,-"  answered  he,  "my  heart  is  too  full.  I  can  not  eat  any  thing  at 
present."  "  Nor  can  I,  my  love,"  said  she  ;  "  but  I  '11  tell  thee  what  we  will  do. 
:".  will  take  the  food  to  poor  Rudi.  His  mother  died  to-day." 

CHAPTER  xxxvn. — KINDNESS  TOWARD  A  POOR  MAN. 

Leonard.     "Is  she  then  at  last  freed  from  her  misery? " 

Gertrude.  "Yes,  God  be  praised!  But  thou  shouldst  have  seen  her  die,  my 
dear  husband.  Only  think !  she  found  out  on  the  day  of  her  death  that  Rudeli 
had  stolen  potatoes  from  us.  She  sent  the  boy  and  his  father  to  me,  to  ask  for- 
giveness. She  desired  them  earnestly  to  beg  us,  in  her  name,  to  forgive  her, 
oecause  she  could  not  pay  back  the  potatoes;  and  poor  Rudi  promised  so 
neartily  to  make  it  up  by  working  for  thee.  Think,  my  dear  husband,  how  all 
chis  affected  me.  I  went  to  the  dying  woman,  but  I  can  not  tell  thee,  it  is  im- 
possible to  describe,  with  what  a  melancholy  dying  tone  she  asked  me  whether 
I  had  forgiven  them  ;  and  when  she  saw  that  my  heart  was  touched,  how  she 
.ecommended  her  children  to  me ;  how  she  delayed  it  to  the  last  moment,  and 
ihen,  when  she  found  she  was  going,  how  she  at  last  ventured,  and  with  what 
humility  and  love  toward  her  children,  she  did  it ;  and  how  in  the  midst  of  it 
she  expired.  0,  it  is  not  to  be  told  or  described." 

Leon.     "  I  will  go  with  thee  to  them." 

Ger.     "  Yes,  come,  let  us  go." 

So  saying,  she  took  up  the  broth,  and  they  went. 

When  they  arrived,  Rudi  was  sitting  on  the  bed  by  the  corpse.  He  wept 
and  sighed,  and  his  little  boy  called  out  from  the  other  room,  and  asked  him  for 
bread — or  even  raw  roots — or  any  thing  at  all. 

"  Alas  I  I  have  nothing  whatever.  For  God's  sake,  be  quiet  till  morning.  I 
have  nothing,"  said  the  father. 

And  the  little  fellow  cried  out :  "  But  I  am  so  hungry,  father,  I  can  not  go  to 
sleep !  0,  I  am  so  hungry,  father !  " 

Leonard  and  Gertrude  heard  this,  opened  the  door,  set  down  the  food  before 
the  hungry  child  and  said  to  him,  "Eat  quickly,  before  it  is  cold." 

"0,  God!"  exclaimed  Rudi,  "What  is  this?  Rudeli,  these  are  the  people 
from  whom  thou  hast  stolen  potatoes ;  and,  alas,  I  myself  have  eaten  of 
f.iiem!  " 

Ger.     "Say  no  more  about  that,  Rudi." 


586  LEONARD  ANI)  GERTRUDE. 

Rudi.  "  I  dare  not  look  you  in  the  face,  it  goes  so  to  my  heart  to  think  what 
TO  did." 

Leon.     "  Eat  something,  Rudi." 
Ruddi.     "  Eat,  eat ;  let  us  eat,  father." 
Rudi.     "  Say  the  grace  then." 

Ruddi. 

"  May  God  feed, 

And  God  speed 

All  the  poor 

On  the  earth's  floor, 

In  body  and  soul,  Amen  !  " 

Thus  prayed  the'  boy,  took  up  the  spoon,  trembled,  wept,  and  ate. 

"May  God  reward  you  for  it  a  thousand  fold,"  said  the  father;  and  he  ate 
^so,  and  tears  fell  down  his  cheeks. 

But  they  did  not  eat  it  all,  but  set  aside  a  plate  full  for  the  children  who  were 
asleep.  Then  Rudeli  gave  thanks. 

'•When  we  have  fed, 
Let 's  thank  the  Lord, 
Who  nil  our  bread 
Doth  still  afford. 

To  him  be  praise,  honor,  and  thanksgiving, 
Now  and  forever,  Amen." 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 


RAFTER  XXXVIII. — THE  PURE  AND  PEACEFUL  GREATNESS  OF  A  BENEVOLENT 

HEART. 

As  Rudi  was  about  to  thank  them  again,  he  sighed  involuntarily. 

Dost  thou  want  something,  Rudi  ?     If  it  is  any  thing  wo  can  do  for  thee, 
•  .1  us,"  said  Leonard  to  him. 

"No,  I  want  nothing  more,  I  thank  you,"  answered  Rudi. 

But  he  evidently  repressed  a  deep  sigh,  which  struggled  to  escape  from  his 
iart.  Leonard  and  Gertrude  looked  at  him  with  sorrowful  sympathy,  and  said : 
But  thou  sighest,  and  we  see  that  thy  heart  is  troubled  about  something." 

"Tell  them,  tell  them,  father,"  said  the  boy,  "they  are  so  kind." 

"  Do  tell  us,  if  we  can  help  thee,"  said  Leonard  and  Gertrude. 

"  Dare  I  venture  ? "  answered  the  poor  man.  "  I  have  neither  shoes  nor 
stockings,  and  to-morrow  I  must  follow  my  mother  to  her  grave,  and  the  day 
after  go  to  the  hall." 

Leonard.  "To  think  that  thou  shouldst  fret  thyself  thus  about  it!  Why 
iidst  thou  not  tell  me  directly?  I  can  and  will  willingly  give  thee  them." 

Rudi.  "And  wilt  thou  believe,  after  what  has  happened,  that  I  will  return 
them  safe  and  with  thanks?  " 

Leon.  "Say  nothing  of  that,  Rudi.  I  would  trust  thee  for  more  than  that; 
but  thy  misery  and  want  have  made  thee  too  fearful." 

Gertrude.  "  Yes,  Rudi,  trust  in  God  and  man,  and  thou  wilt  be  easier  in  thy 
heart,  and  better  able  to  help  thyself  in  all  situations." 

Rudi.  "Yes,  Gertrude,  I  ought  to  have  more  trust  in  my  father  in  heaven; 
i»ud  I  can  never  sufficiently  thank  you." 

Leon.     "  Say  nothing  of  that,  Rudi." 

Ger.     "  I  should  like  to  see  thy  mother  again." 

They  went  with  a  feeble  lamp  to  her  bedside ;  and  Gertrude,  Leonard,  Rudi, 
and  the  little  one,  all  with  tears  in  their  eyes,  looked  at  her  awhile,  in  the  deep- 
est silence;  then  they  covered  her  up  again,  and  kindly  took  leave  of  each 
•other,  almost  without  words. 

As  they  went  home,  Leonard  said  to  Gertrude:  "What  a  dreadful  state  of 
wretchedness  this  is  1  Not  to  be  able  to  go  any  longer  to  church,  nor  to  ask  for 
work,  nor  return  thanks  for  it,  because  a  man  has  neither  clothes,  nor  shoes, 
-nor  stockings." 

Ger.  "  If  he  were  suffering  it  from  any  fault  of  his  own,  it  would  almost 
>drive  him  to  despair." 

Leon.  "Yes,  Gertrude,  he  would  despair,  he  certainly  would  despair,  Ger- 
trude. If  I  were  to  hear  my  children  cry  out  in  that  way  for  bread,  and  had 
none,  and  it  was  my  own  fault,  Gertrude,  I  should  despair ;  and  I  was  on  the 
road  to  this  wretchedness." 

Ger.     "  We  have  indeed  been  saved  out  of  great  danger." 

As  they  thus  spoke,  they  passed  near  the  tavern,  and  the  unmeaning  riot  of 
drinking  and  talking  reached  their  ears.  Leonard's  heart  beat  at  a  distance,  but. 


588  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

as  he  drew  near,  he  shuddered  with  painful  horror.  Gertrude  looked  at  him, 
tenderly  and  sorrowfully,  and  Leonard,  ashamed,  answered  the  mournful  look  of 
his  Gertrude  and  said:  "0  what  a  blessed  evening  have  1  spent  with  thee! 
and  if  I  had  been  here  instead ! " 

Gertrude's  sadness  now  increased  to  tears,  and  she  raised  her  eyes  to  heaven. 
He  saw  it.  Tears  stood  also  in  his  eyes,  and  the  same  sadness  was  upon  his 
countenance.  He,  too,  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven,  and  both  gazed  for  a  time 
upon  the  beautiful  sky.  They  looked  with  admiration  upon  the  silvery  bright- 
ness of  the  moon;  and  a  rapturous  inward  satisfaction  assured  them  that  the 
pure  and  innocent  feelings  of  their  hearts  were  acceptable  in  the  sight  of  God. 

After  this  short  delay,  they  went  into  their  cottage. 

Gertrude  immediately  sought  out  shoes  and  stockings  for  Rudi,  and  Leonard 
took  them  to  him  that  evening. 

When  he  came  back,  they  said  a  preparation  prayer  for  the  sacrament  of  the 
next  day,  and  fell  asleep  with  devout  thankfulness. 

In  the  morning  they  arose  early,  and  rejoiced  in  the  Lord;  read  the  history 
of  the  Saviour's  sufferings,  and  of  the  institution  of  the  holy  supper;  and. 
praised  God  in  the  early  hours,  before  the  Sabbath  sun  arose. 

Then  they  awoke  their  children,  waited  for  them  to  say  their  morning  prayer,, 
and  then  went  to  church. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  before  service-time,  the  bailiff  also  arose.  He  could  not 
find  the  key  of  his  clothes-chest ;  uttered  dreadful  curses ;  kicked  the  chest  open 
with  his  foot ;  dressed  himself;  went  to  church ;  placed  himself  in  the  first  seat 
in  the  choir;  held  his  hat  before  his  mouth;  and  looked  into  every  corner  of  the 
church,  whilst  he  repeated  his  prayer  under  his  hat. 

Soon  afterward  the  pastor  entered.  Then  the  people  sang  two  verses  of  the 
hymn  for  Passion  week:  " 0  man,  repent  thy  heavy  sins,"  and  so  on. 

Then  the  pastor  went  into  the  pulpit ;  and  this  day  he  preached  and  instructed, 
his  people  as  follows: — 

CHAPTER  xxxix. — A  SERMON. 

"  MY  children ! 

"He  who  fears  the  Lord,  and  walks  piously  and  uprightly  before  him,  walks 
in  light. 

"But  he  who  in  all  his  doings  is  forgetful  of  his  God,  walks  in  darkness. 

"  Therefore  be  ye  not  deceived,  one  only  is  good,  and  he  is  your  Father. 

"  Wherefore  do  you  run  astray,  and  grope  about  in  darkness?  No  one  is  your- 
Father  but  God. 

" Beware  of  men,  lest  ye  learn  from  them  what  will  be  displeasing  in  the- 
sight  of  your  Father  in  heaven. 

"Happy  is  the  man  who  has  God  for  his  Father. 

"Happy  is  the  man  who  fears  wickedness  and  hates  deceitfulness:  for  tl  ey 
who  commit  wickedness  shall  not  prosper,  and  the  deceitful  man  is  taken  in  liis^ 
own  snare. 

"The  man  shall  not  prosper,  who  oppresses  and  injures  his  neighbor. 

"The  man  shall  not  prosper,  against  whom  the  cry  of  the  poor  man  rises- 
toward  God. 

"Woe  to  the  wretch  who  in  the  winter  feeds  the  poor,  and  in  the  harvest 
takes  from  him  double. 

"Woe  to  the  godless  man  who  causes  the  poor  to  drink  wine  in  the  summer, 
and  in  the  autumn  requires  from  him  double. 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  589 

"Woe  to  him,  when  he  takes  away  from  the  poor  man  his  straw  and  his  fodder, 
-so  that  he  can  not  til]  his  ground. 

"Woe  to  him,  by  the  hardness  of  whose  heart  the  children  of  the  poor  want 
bread. 

"  Woe  to  the  godless  man,  who  lends  money  to  the  poor  that  they  may  become 
his  servants,  be  at  his  command,  work  without  wages,  and  yet  pay  rent. 

"Woe  to  him,  when  they  give  false  testimony  for  him  before  the  judge,  and 
swear  false  oaths  that  his  cause  is  just. 

"Woe  to  him,  when  he  assembles  sinners  in  his  house,  and  watches  with 
them  to  betray  the  just  man,  that  he  may  become  as  one  of  them,  and  forget  his 
God,  his  wife,  and  his  children,  and  waste,  with  them,  the  wages  of  his  labor 
upon  which  his  wife  and  children  depend. 

"And  woe  to  the  miserable  man,  who  suffers  himself  to  be  led  astray  by  the 
ungodly,  and,  in  his  thoughtlessness,  squanders  the  money  which  is  wanted  at 
home. 

"  Woe  to  him,  when  the  sighs  of  his  wife  arise  to  God,  because  she  has  no 
food  for  her  infant. 

"Woe  to  him,  when  his  child  starves,  that  he  may  drink. 

•'Woe  to  him,  when  she  weeps  over  the  wants  of  her  children,  and  her  own 
excessive  labor. 

"  Woe  to  him,  who  wastes  the  apprentice-fee  of  his  sons ;  when  his  old  age 
comes,  they  will  say  unto  him,  '  Thou  didst  not  behave  as  a  father  to  us,  thou 
didst  not  teach  us  to  earn  bread,  how  can  we  now  help  thee? ' 

"Woe  to  those,  who  go  about  telling  lies,  and  make  the  crooked  straight,  and 
the  straight  crooked :  for  they  shall  come  to  shame. 

"  Woe  to  you,  when  ye  have  bought  the  land  of  the  widow,  and  the  house 
kof  the  orphan,  at  an  unfair  price.     Woe  to  you,  for  this  is  your  Lord ;  father  of 
he  widow  and  of  the  orphan,  and  they  are  dear  to  him ;  and  ye  are  a  hatred  and 
n  abomination  in  his  sight,  because  ye  are  cruel  and  hard  to  the  poor. 

"Woe  to  you,  whose  houses  are  full  of  what  does  not  belong  to  you. 

"  Though  you  riot  in  wine  which  came  from  the  poor  man's  vines: 

"  Though  you  laugh,  when  starved  and  miserable  men  shake  their  corn  into 
our  sacks  with  sighs : 

"Though  you  sneer  and  jest  when  the  oppressed  man  writhes  like  a  worm 
'before  you,  and  entreats  you,  in  God's  name,  to  lend  him  a  tenth  part  of  what 
you  have  cheated  him  of;  though  you  harden  yourselves  against  all  this,  yet 
'have  you  never  an  hour's  peace  in  your  hearts. 

"No!  there  lives  not  the  man  upon  God's  earth,  who  oppresses  the  poor  and 
is  happy. 

"  Though  he  be  raised  out  of  all  danger,  out  of  all  fear  of  iniquity  or  punish- 
ment, on  this  earth ;  though  he  be  a  ruler  in  the  land,  and  imprison  with  his 
'hand,  and  accuse  with  his  tongue,  miserable  men  who  are  better  than 
himself: 

"  Though  he  sit  aloft,  and  judge  them  to  life  or  death,  and  sentence  them  to 
the  sword,  or  the  wheel : 

" He  is  more  miserable  than  they! 

"  He  who  oppresses  the  poor  man  from  pride,  and  lays  snares  for  the  unfortu- 
nate, and  swears  away  widows'  houses ;  he  is  worse  than  the  thief  and  the 
•murderer,  whose  reward  is  death 


590  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

u  Therefore,  has  the  man  who  does  these  things  no  peaceful  hour,  throughout 
his  life. 

"  He  wanders  ou  the  face  of  the  earth  laden  with  the  curse  of  a  brother's- 
murder,  which  leaves  no  rest  for  his  heart. 

"  He  wanders  around,  and  seeks,  and  tries  continually  to  conceal  from  himself 
the  horror  of  his  inward  thoughts. 

"  With  eating  and  drinking,  with  insolence  and  malice,  with  hatred  and  strife, 
Tith  lies  and  deceit,  with  buffoonery  and  licentiousness,  with  slander  and  abuse, 
with  quarreling  and  backbiting,  he  seeks  to  get  through  the  time  which  is  a 
ourthen  to  him. 

"But  he  will  not  always  be  able  to  suppress  the  voice  of  his  conscience;  ho 
will  not  always  be  able  to  escape  the  fear  of  the  Lord ;  it  will  fall  upon  him  like 
-  armed  man,  and  you  will  see  him  tremble  and  be  dismayed,  like  a  prisoner 
*"hom  death  threatens. 

"But  happy  is  the  man  who  has  no  part  in  such  doings. 

"  Happy  is  the  man  who  is  not  answerable  for  the  poverty  of  his  neighbor. 

"Happy  is  the  man  who  has  nothing  in  his  possession  which  he  has  forced 
irom  the  poor. 

"  Happy  are  you,  when  your  mouth  is  pure  from  harsh  words,  and  your  eyes 
1'om  harsh  looks. 

"Happy  are  you,  when  the  poor  man  blesses  you,  and  when  the  widow  and 
the  orphan  weep  tears  of  gratitude  to  God  for  you. 

"  Happy  is  the  man  who  walks  in  love  before  his  God,  and  before  his  people. 

"  Happy  are  you  who  are  pious ;  come  and  rejoice  at  the  table  of  the  God  of 
»ove. 

"  The  Lord  your  God  is  your  Father. 

"  The  signs  of  love  from  his  hands  will  refresh  your  spirits,  and  the  blessed- 
ness of  your  souls  will  increase,  because  your  love  toward  God  your  Father,  and 
toward  your  brethren  of  mankind,  will  increase  and  strengthen. 

"  But  ye  who  walk  without  love,  and  in  your  deeds  consider  not  that  God  is 
jour  Father,  and  that  your  neighbors  are  the  children  of  your  God,  and  that 
vhe  poor  man  is  your  brother ;  ye  ungodly,  what  do  ye  here  ?  ye,  who  to-morrow 
will  injure  and  oppress  the  poor  as  ye  did  yesterday,  what  do  ye  here?  Will  ye 
eat  of  the  bread  of  the  Lord,  and  drink  of  his  cup,  and  say  that  ye  are  one  in 
body,  and  mind,  and  soul,  with  your  brethren  ? 

"  Leave  this  house,  and  avoid  the  meal  of  love. 

"And  ye  poor  and  oppressed  ones  of  my  people,  believe  and  trust  in  the  Lord, 
and  the  fruit  of  your  affliction  and  suffering  will  become  a  blessing  to  you. 

"  Believe  and  trust  in  the  Lord  your  God,  and  fear  not  the  ungodty ;  but  keep- 
yourselves  from  them.  Rather  suffer,  rather  endure  any  want,  rather  bear  any 
injury,  than  seek  help  from  their  hard-heartedness.  For  the  words  of  the  hard 
man  are  lies,  and  his  help  is  a  decoy  by  which  he  seeks  to  entrap  the  poor  man  and 
destroy  him.  Therefore  flee  from  the  ungodly  man  when  he  salutes  you  witli 
smiles,  when  he  gives  you  his  hand,  and  takes  yours  with  friendliness.  When 
he  offers  you  his  assistance,  then  flee  from  him :  for  the  ungodly  man  insnares 
the  poor.  Avoid  him,  and  join  not  yourselves  with  him ;  but  fear  him  not : — 
though  you  see  him  standing  fast  and  great,  like  a  lofty  oak,  fear  him  not  1 

"  Go,  my  children,  into  the  forest,  to  the  place  where  the  lofty  oaks  stand,  and 
see  how  the  little  trees,  which  withered  under  their  shade,  now  being  removed 
from  them,  flourish  and  bloom.  The  sun  shines  again  upon  the  young  plants. 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  5QJ 

the  dew  of  heaven  falls  upon  them  in  its  strength,  and  the  great  spreading  root 
of  the  oaks,  which  sucked  up  all  the  nourishment  from  the  ground,  now  decay 
and  nourish  the  young  trees  which  withered  in  the  shade. 

"Therefore  hope  in  the  Lord,  for  his  help  never  fails  those  who  hope  in  him. 

"The  day  of  the  Lord  will  come  to  the  ungodly  man ;  and  on  that  day,  whe 
he  shall  see  the  oppressed  and  the  poor  man,  he  will  cry  out  and  say:  ' 0,  tha 
I  had  been  as  one  of  these!' 

"Therefore  trust  in  the  Lord,  ye  who  are  troubled  and  oppressed,  and  rejoict 
,iat  ye  know  the  Lord,  who  has  appointed  the  supper  of  love. 

"  For  through  love  ye  bear  the  sufferings  of  this  earth,  even  as  a  treasure  fron 
ie  Lord ;  and  your  burthens  only  increase  your  strength  and  your  blessed 

5SS. 

"  Therefore  rejoice  that  ye  know  the  God  of  love ;  for  without  love  ye  woulc 

ik  and  become  as  the  ungodly,  who  torment  and  betray  you. 

"Praise  the  God  of  love,  that  he  has  appointed  this  sacrament,  and  has  callec 
ou,  amongst  his  millions,  to  partake  in  his  holy  mysteries. 

"  Praise  ye  the  Lord ! 

"  The  revelation  of  love  is  the  salvation  of  the  world. 

"Love  is  the  band  which  binds  the  earth  together. 

"  Love  is  the  band  which  unites  God  and  man. 

"Without  love,  man  is  without  God;  and  without  God  and  love,  what  L 
nan? 

"Dare  ye  say?  can  ye  utter  or  think  what  man  is  without  God,  and  withot 
ove? 

"I  dare  not;  I  can  not  express  it — man,  without  God  and  without  love,  is  n 
.onger  a  man,  but  a  brute. 

A  Therefore  rejoice  that  ye  know  the  God  of  love,  who  has  called  the  world 
rom  brutishness  to  love,  from  darkness  to  light,  and  from  death  to  eternal  life. 
"Rejoice  that  ye  know  Jesus  Christ,  and  through  faith  in  him  are  called  to  be 
children  of  God,  and  to  eternal  life. 

"And  yet  once  more  I  say  unto  you,  rejoice  that  ye  know  the  Lord ;  and  pray 
for  all  those  who  do  not  know  him ;  that  they  may  come  to  the  knowledge  of 
the  truth  and  of  your  joy. 

"  My  children,  come  to  the  holy  supper  of  your  Lord.     Amen." 

"When  the  pastor  had  said  this,  and  instructed  his  congregation  for  nearly  an 
hour,  he  prayed  with  them,  and  then  the  whole  congregation  partook  of  the 
Lord's  supper. 

The  bailiff,  Hummel,  assisted  in  distributing  the  Lord's  supper-  and  when  all 
the  people  had  given  thanks  unto  the  Lord,  they  sang  a  hymn,  and  the  pastor 
blessed  his  people,  and  every  one  returned  to  his  own  house. 

CHAPTER  XL.— A  PROOF  THAT  THE  SERMON  WAS  GOOD;   Item,  ON  KNOWLEDGE 

AND  ERROR,    AND  WHAT  IS  CALLED  OPPRESSING   THE   POOR. 

THE  bailiff,  Hummel,  was  furious  at  the  discourse  which  the  pastor  had  deliv- 
ered about  the  ungodly  man ;  and  on  the  Lord's  day,  which  the  whole  parish 
kept  holy,  he  raged,  and  swore,  and  abused  the  pastor,  and  said  many  violent 
'hings  against  him. 

As  soon  as  he  got  home  from  the  sacrament,  he  sent  for  his  dissolute  compan- 
is  to  come  to  him  directly.  They  soon  arrived,  and  joined  the  bailiff  in  say- 
g  many  shameful  and  abusive  things  of  the  pastor  and  his  Christian  discourse 


092  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDF, 

The  bailiff  began  first :   "  I  can  not  endure  his  damned  taunts  and  attacks." 

"  It  is  not  right,  it  is  a  sin,  and  particularly  on  the  Sabbath  day,  it  is  a  sin  to 
do  so."  sai'?  oiH  * "  " 

Baiftff.  •  luw  rascal  knows  very  well  that  I  can  not  endure  it,  and  he  only 
goes  on  so  much  the  more.  It  will  be  a  fine  thing  for  him,  if  he  can  bring  the 
people,  by  his  preaching  and  his  abuse,  to  hate  and  despise  what  he  does  not 
understand,  and  has  nothing  to  do  with." 

Abi.  "  Ay,  indeed !  our  blessed  Saviour,  and  the  evangelists,  and  the  apos- 
tles in  the  New  T-^-TV-^  never  attacked  any  body." 

Christian.  "  T^o-  **~.vt  not  say  that.  They  did  attack  people,  and  still  more 
'ban  the  pastor  doe°." 

Abi.     "  It  is  not  tr"»  -^  »tian." 

Chris.  "  Thou  art  a  ^J  Ibi.  Ye  blind  guides,  ye  serpents. — ye  generation 
)f  vipers,  and  a  thousajri  %-?jh.  Thou  knowest  a  great  deal  about  the  Bible, 
Abi." 

Countryman,     "  Yes,  Abi !  they  certainly  did  attack  people." 

Chris.  "  They  did.  But  as  for  affairs  of  law,  which  they  did  not  understand, 
and  reckonings  which  had  been  settled  before  the  judges  according  to  law,  they 
did  not  meddle  with  them,  and  those  who  do  are  very  different  kind  of  people." 

Count.     "  Yes,  that  they  are." 

Chris.  "  They  must  be  very  different,  or  people  would  not  be  so  bold.  Only 
Jiink  what  they  did.  There  was  one  Annas — yes,  Annas  was  his  name — and 
iris  wife  after  him,  only  for  telling  one  lie,  they  fell  down  and  died." 

Count.     "  Die  they  indeed  ?     For  only  one  lie  ?  " 

Chris.     "  Yes,  as  true  as  I  am  alive,  and  standing  here." 

Abi.     "It's  a  fine  thing,  too,  to  know  one's  Bible." 

Chris.  "  I  have  to  thank  my  father,  who  is  dead  and  buried  for  it.  For  the 
rest  he  was,  God  forgive  him,  no  great  things.  He  ran  through  all  my  mother's 
property  to  the  last  farthing, — but  I  could  have  got  over  that,  if  he  had  not 
leagued  himself  so  much  with  Uli,  who  was  hanged.  Such  a  thing  as  that  in- 
jures children  and  children's  children.  But  he  could  read  his  Bible  as  well  as 
any  pastor,  and  made  us  all  learn  too.  He  would  not  excuse  one  of  us." 

Abi.  "  I  have  often  wondered  how  he  could  be  so  good-for-nothing,  when 
he  knew  so  much." 

Count.     "  It  is  very  strange." 

Jost.  (A  stranger,  who  happened  to  be  in  the  tavern.)  '•  I  can  not  help 
laughing,  neighbors,  at  your  wonder  about  it.  If  much  knowledge  could  make 
people  good,  your  attorneys,  and  brokers,  and  bailiffs,  and  magistrates,  with  re- 
spect be  it  spoken,  would  be  always  the  best." 

Count.     "  Ay,  and  so  they  would,  neighbor." 

Jost.  "Depend  upon  it,  there  is  a  wide  difference  between  knowing  and 
doing.  He  who  is  for  carrying  on  his  business  by  knowledge  alone,  had  need 
take  care  lest  he  forget  how  to  act." 

Count.     "  Yes,  so  it  is.     A  man  soon  forgets  what  he  does  not  practice." 

Jost.  "  Of  course.  When  a  man  is  in  habits  of  idleness,  he  is  good  for 
nothing.  And  so  it  is  with  those  who,  from  idleness  and  weariness,  get  to  chat- 
tering and  talking.  They  become  good  for  nothing.  Only  attend,  and  you  will 
find  that  the  greatest  part  of  those  fellows  who  have  stories  out  of  the  Bible, 
~>r  the  newspapers,  and  new  and  old  pamphlets,  constantly  In  their  hands  and 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  593 

are  little  better  than  mere  idlers.  If  one  watts  to  talk  with  then- 
aoout  housekeeping,  bringing  up  children,  profit,  or  busir  ess,  when  they  should 
give  one  advice  how  to  set  about  this  thing  or  that,  which  is  of  real  use,  they 
Stand  there  like  Blockheads,  and  know  nothing,  and  can  tell  nothing.  Only 
where  people  moet,  for  idleness,  in  taverns,  and  at  dances,  and  gossipings  OP  Sun- 
days and  holidays  ;  there  they  show  off.  They  tell  or  quack  cures,  ana  foolish 
stories  and  tales,  in  which  there  is  not  a  word  of  truth  ;  and  yet  a  whole  room 
i  'ill  of  honest  folks  will  sit  listening  for  hours  to  such  a  prating  fellow,  who  tells 
*'  ^rr»  one  lie  after  another." 

>6t,  "By  my  soul,  it  is  as  he  says !  and,  Christian,  he  has  drawn  thy  father 
to  e  Inv  Just  so  we  went  on  with  him.  He  was  as  stupid  as  an  ox  about 
3very  thing  lelath.g  to  wood  and  fields,  cattle,  fodder,  ploughing,  and  such  like; 
and  knew  no  more  about  his  own  business  than  a  sheep.  But  in  the  tavern,  and 
•at  parish  meetings,  and  in  the  churchyard,  after  service,  he  spoke  like  a  wise 
man  from  the  East.  Sometimes  of  Doctor  Faustus,  sometimes  of  our  Saviour, 
sometimes  of  the  Witch  of  Endor,  or  of  the  one  of  Hirzau,  and  sometimes  of 
bull-fights  at  Maestricht,  or  of  horse-races  at  London.  Stupidly  as  he  did  it,  and 
evident  as  it  was  that  he  was  telling  them  lies,  people  went  on  willingly  listen- 
ing to  him,  till  he  was  near  being  hanged,  which  did  at  last  hurt  his  credit  as  a 
story-teller." 

Jost.     "  It  was  high  time." 

Abi.  "Yes,  we  were  fools  long  enough;  and  gave  him  many  a  glass  of  wine 
for  pure  lies." 

Jost.  "  To  my  mind  it  would  have  been  better  for  him  if  you  had  never  given 
him  any." 

Abi.  "  Indeed,  I  believe  if  we  had  never  given  him  any,  he  would  not  have 
•come  so  near  the  gallows.  He  would  have  been  obliged  to  work." 

Jost.     "  So  you  see  your  good  will  toward  him  did  him  an  injury." 

Count.     "  Yes,  that  it  did." 

Jost.  "  It  is  a  wicked  and  ruinous  thing  to  drag  the  Bible  into  such  idle  teh- 
ing-  and  hearing  of  profane  stories." 

Leupi.  "  My  father  once  beat  me  soundly  for  forgetting,  over  one  of  these 
stories,  (I  think  it  was  out  of  the  Bible,)  to  fetch  the  cow  from  the  pasture." 

Jost.  "  He  was  in  the  right.  To  do  what  is  in  the  Bible  is  our  business,  and 
to  tell  us  about  it  is  the  pastor's.  The  Bible  is  a  command,  a  law ;  what  would 
the  governor  say  to  thee,  if  he  had  sent  a  command  down  to  the  village  that  we 
were  to  cart  something  to  the  castle,  and  thou,  instead  of  going  into  the  wood 
to  get  thy  load,  wert  to  seat  thyself  in  the  tavern,  take  up  the  order  in  thy 
hand,  read  it  aloud,  and,  whilst  thou  wert  sitting  over  thy  glass,  explain  to  thy 
neighbors  what  he  meant  and  wished  for  ?  " 

Abi.  "What  would  he  say  to  me?  He  would  abuse  me,  and  laugh  at  mo 
»iml  throw  me  into  prison  for  taking  him  for  a  fool." 

Jost  "And  just  so  much  do  the  people  deserve,  who  read  the  Bible  from  mere 
idleness,  and  that  they  may  be  able  to  tell  stories  out  of  it  at  the  tavern." 

Chris.  "  Yes,  but  yet  we  must  read  in  it,  to  know  how  to  keep  in  the  right 
way." 

Jost.  "  Of  course.  But  those  who  are  always  stopping  at  every  resting-place, 
ead  standing  still  to  talk  at  every  well,  and  finger-post,  and  cross,  which  is  put 
down  to  show  the  way,  are  not  those  who  will  get  on  the  fastest  ?  " 

Abi.     "But  how  is  this  neighbor?     They  say  one  can  not  pay  too  dear  for 

38 


594  LEONARD  AND  GERTRIJDL. 

knowledge;  but  it  seems  to  me  one  may  easily  pay  too  dear  for  knowledge  of 
many  things." 

Jost.  "  Yes,  indeed !  We  always  pay  too  dear  for  every  thing  which  keep? 
us  away  from  active  duties  and  business  of  importance.  "We  should  seek  to 
gain  information  that  we  may  know  how  to  act,  and  if  people  try  to  know  many 
things,  merely  for  the  sake  of  talking  about  them,  they  will  certainly  avail  them 
nothing. 

"It  is,  with  respect  to  knowledge  and  performance,  as  it  is  in  a  trade.  A  shoe- 
maker, for  instance,  must  work,  that  is  the  first  thing;  he  must  also  be  able  to 
judge  of  leather  and  know  how  to  buy  it ;  this  is  the  means  by  which  he  can 
carry  on  his  trade  to  advantage ;  and  so  it  is  in  every  thing  else.  Execution 
and  practice  are  the  chief  things  for  all  men ;  knowledge  and  understanding  are 
the  means  by  which  they  can  carry  on  their  business  to  advantage. 

"  But  for  this  purpose  the  knowledge  of  every  man  should  relate  to  what  he  has 
to  do  and  perform,  or  in  other  words  to  his  chief  business." 

Abi.  "Now  I  begin  to  see  how  it  is.  "When  a  man  has  his  head  full  of  vari- 
ous and  foreign  affairs,  he  does  not  give  his  mind  to  his  own  business,  and  to 
what  is  of  the  most  importance  to  him." 

Jost.  "  Just  so.  The  thoughts  and  understanding  of  every  man  should  be 
intent  upon  the  things  which  are  of  the  greatest  consequence  to  him.  I  have  no 
meadows  to  be  cultivated  by  irrigation,  therefore  it  is  nothing  to  me  how  people 
manage  to  overflow  them ;  and,  till  I  have  a  wood  of  my  own,  I  shall  certainly 
take  no  pains  to  know  how  it  may  be  best  taken  care  of.  But  my  reservoirs 
for  manure  are  often  in  my  thoughts,  because  they  make  my  poor  meadows  rich. 
Every  thing  would  prosper,  if  every  body  were  properly  attentive  to  his  own 
affair.  People  get  plenty  of  knowledge,  soon  enough,  if  they  only  learn  to 
know  things  well;  but  they  never  learn  to  know  them  well,  if  they  do  not  begin 
by  knowing,  and  looking  after  what  belongs  to  them.  Knowledge  rises  by  de- 
grees from  the  lowest  thing  to  the  highest,  and  we  shall  make  great  progress  in 
our  lives,  if  we  begin  thus ;  but  from  idle  talking,  and  stories,  and  foolish  dreams 
of  things  in  the  clouds,  or  in  the  moon,  people  learn  only  to  become  good  for 
nothing." 

Abi.     "They  begin  to  learn  that,  even  at  school." 

During  the  whole  of  this  conversation,  the  bailiff  stood  by  the  fire,  stared  into 
it,  warmed  himself,  scarcely  listened  to  any  thing,  and  joined  seldom,  and  with- 
out any  connection,  in  what  they  were  saying.  He  forgot  the  wine  in  his  ab- 
straction, and  therefore  it  was  that  the  conversation  between  Abi  and  the 
stranger  had  lasted  so  long.  Perhaps,  too,  he  was  not  willing  to  express  hia 
vexation  till  the  stranger  had  finished  his  glass  and  left  them. 

Then  at  last  he  began  all  at  once,  as  if,  during  his  long  silence,  he  had  been 
learning  it  off  by  heart. 

"  The  pastor  is  always  talking  about  oppressing  the  poor.  If  wha't  he  calls  op- 
pressing the  poor  were  done  by  nobody,  the  devil  take  me  if  there  would  be  any 
poor  in  the  world.  But  when  I  look  around  me,  from  the  prince  to  the  night- 
watchman,  from  the  first  council  in  the  land  to  the  lowest  parish  meeting,  every 
one  seeks  his  own  profit,  and  presses  against  whatever  comes  in  his  way.  The 
late  pastor  sold  wine,  as  I  do,  and  took  hay,  and  corn,  and  oats,  in  payment  for 
it,  as  much  as  I  do.  Throughout  the  world  every  one  oppresses  his  inferiors, 
and  I  am  obliged  to  submit  to  oppression  in  my  turn.  "Whoever  has  any  thing, 
or  wishes  to  have  any  thing,  must  oppress,  or  he  will  lose  what  is  his  own.  and 


I, DON ARO  AND  GERTRUDE.  595 

Become  a  beggar.  If  the  pastor  knew  the  poor  as  well  as  I  do,  ho  would  not 
trouble  himself  so  much  about  them ;  but  it  is  not  for  the  sake  of  the  poor.  All 
le  wants  is  to  find  fault,  and  lead  the  people  to  judge  one  another  wrongfully. 
The  poor  are  a  good-for-nothing  set :  if  I  wanted  ten  rogues  I  could  soon  find 
eleven  amongst  the  poor.  I  wish  people  would  bring  me  my  income  regularly 
home  every  quarter-day,  I  would  soon  learn  to  receive  it  piously  and  devoutly. 
But  in  my  business,  in  a  tavern  and  in  poor  cottages,  where  every  farthing  must 
be  forced  out.  and  one  is  plagued  at  every  turn,  it  is  a  very  different  thing.  I 
would  lay  a  wager  that  any  landlord,  who  would  act  considerately  and  com- 
passionately toward  day-laborers  and  poor  people,  would  soon  lose  all  he  had. 
They  are  rogues  every  one." 

Thus  spoke  the  bailiff,  and  perverted  the  voice  of  his  conscience,  which  made 
him  uneasy,  and  told  him  that  the  pastor  was  right,  and  that  he  was  the  man 
who  oppressed  all  the  poor  of  the  village,  even  until  the  blood  started  under 
their  nails. 

But,  however  he  reasoned  to  himself,  he  was  not  at  rest.  Anxiety  and  care 
visibly  tormented  him.  He  paced  uneasily  up  and  down  the  room. 

At  last  he  said:  "I  am  so  angry  about  the  pastor's  sermon,  that  I  know  not 
what  to  do,  and  I  am  not  well.  Are  you  cold,  neighbors  ?  I  have  been  as  cold 
as  ice,  ever  since  I  came  home." 

"No,"  answered  the  neighbors,  "it  is  not  cold;  but  everybody  saw  at 
church  that  thou  wert  not  well,  thou  wert  so  deadly  pale." 

Bailiff.  "Did  every  body  see  it  at  church?  I  was  indeed  strangely  ill  I — I 
am  very  feverish — and  so  faint — I  must  drink  something.  We  will  go  into  the- 
back  room,  during  service-tune." 

CHAPTER  XLI. — A  CHURCHWARDEN  INFORMS  THE  PASTOR  OF  IMPROPER  CONDUCT.. 

BUT  a  churchwarden,  who  lived  in  the  same  street  with  the  bailiff,  and  had 
seen  Abi,  Christian,  and  the  other  fellows  go  into  the  tavern,  between  the  ser- 
vices, was  angry  in  his  heart,  and  thought  at  that  moment  of  the  oath  ne  had 
taken  to  look  after  all  improper  and  profane  conduct,  and  to  inform  the  pastor 
of  it.  And  the  churchwarden  set  a  man,  he  could  depend  upon,  to  watch  the 
fellows,  and  see  whether  they  went  out  of  the  tavern  again  before  service. 

It  was  now  nearly  time  for  the  bell  to  ring,  and,  as  nobody  came  out,  he  went 
to  the  pastor,  and  told  him  what  he  had  seen,  and  that  he  had  set  Samuel  Treu 
to  watch  them. 

The  pastor  was  troubled  by  this  intelligence,  sighed  to  himself,  and  said 
little. 

The  churchwarden  thought  he  was  studying  his  sermon,  and  spoke  less  than 
usual  over  his  glass  of  wine. 

At  last,  as  the  pastor  was  preparing  to  go  into  the  church,  Samuel  came  ma 
the  churchwarden  said  to  him : 

"  Thou  canst  tell  the  honorable  Herr  Pastor,  thyself,  all  about  it." 

Then  Samuel  said :  "  May  heaven  bless  you,  honorable  Herr  Pastor,  sir." 

The  pastor  thanked  him,  and  said :   "Are  these  people  not  gone  home  yet "  " 

Samuel.  "No,  sir!  I  have  kept  in  sight  of  the  tavern  ever  since  the  elder 
.old  me  to  watch,  and  nobody  has  left  the  house,  except  the  bailiff's  wife,  wno 
s  gone  to  church." 

Pastor.     "And  thou  art  quite  certain  that  they  are  all  still  in  the  tavern  •  l 

Sam.     "Yes,  sir,  I  am  sure  of  it." 


596  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

Churchwarden.  "Your  reverence  sees  that  I  was  not  mistakei  and  that  n 
was  my  duty  to  let  you  know  of  it." 

Pastor.  "  It  is  a  great  pity  that  such  things  should  take  up  any  one's  time 
and  thoughts  on  a  Sabbath  day." 

Churchwarden.  "We  have  only  done  what  was  our  duty,  please  your  rev- 
erence." 

Pastor.  "  I  know  it,  and  I  thank  you  for  your  watchfulness.  But,  neighbors, 
take  care  that,  for  the  sake  of  a  trifling  duty,  you  do  not  forget  one  of  more  dif- 
ficulty and  importance.  To  watch  over  ourselves,  and  over  our  own  hearts,  is 
our  first  and  most  important  duty.  Therefore  it  is  always  unfortunate  when 
such  evil  deeds  distract  a  man's  thoughts." 

After  a  while,  he  added:  '"No!  such  shameful  disorder  must  no  longer  be 
endured — forbearance  only  increases  it." 

And  he  then  went  with  the  men  into  the  church. 

CHAPTER  XLH. — AN  ADDITION  TO  THE  MORNING'S  DISCOURSE. 

As  he  was  reading  the  account  of  our  Saviour's  sufferings,  he  came  to  these 
words: — 

"And  when  Judas  had  taken  the  sop,  Satan  entered  into  his  heart." 

And  he  discoursed  to  his  people  upon  the  whole  history  of  the  traitor ;  and 
his  feelings  were  so  strongly  excited,  that  he  struck  the  cushion,  vehemently, 
with  his  hand,  which  he  had  not  done  for  years  before. 

And  he  said  that  all  those  who,  as  soon  as  they  went  out  from  the  Lord's  sup- 
per, ran  off  to  drinking  and  gaming,  were  not  a  jot  better  than  Judas,  and  would 
come  to  the  same  end. 

And  the  congregation  began  to  wonder,  and  consider,  what  could  be  the 
meaning  of  this  great  indignation  of  the  pastor. 

People  began  to  lay  their  heads  together ;  and  a  murmur  went  round  that  the 
bailiff  had  his  house  full  of  his  associates. 

And  all  the  people  began  to  turn  their  eyes  toward  his  empty  seat,  and  toward 
his  wife. 

She  observed  it — trembled — cast  down  her  eyes — durst  not  look  any  body  in 
the  face ;  and,  as  soon  as  the  singing  began,  made  her  way  out  of  the  church. 

When  she  did  that,  the  excitement  grew  still  greater,  and  some  pointed  at  her 
with  their  fingers ;  some  women  even  stood  up  on  the  furthest  benches  on  the 
women's  side  to  see  her,  and  there  was  so  mucli  disturbance  that  the  singing 
went  wrong. 

CHAPTER  XLIII. — THE  COUNTRYMEN  IN  THE  TAVERN  ARE  DISTURBED. 
SHE  ran  home  as  fast  as  she  could ;  and,  when  she  entered  the  room,  she  threw 

he  prayer-book,  in  a  rage,  amongst  the  glasses  and  jugs,  and  burst  into  a  violent 

fit  of  crying. 

The  bailiff,  and  the  neighbors,  inquired  what  was  the  matter 

Wife.     "  I  '11  soon  let  you  know  that.     It 's  a  shame  for  you  to  be  drinking  here 

*r.  the  Sabbath  day." 

BtiUiff.     "Is  that  all?     Then  there  is  not  much  amiss." 
Men.     "And  it  is  the  first  time  it  ever  made  you  cry." 
Bailiff.     ''I  thought,  to  be  sure,  thou  hadst  lost  thy  purse,  at  the  least." 
Wife.     " Don't  be  talking  thy  nonsense  now.     If  thou  hadst  been  at  churck, 

thou  wouldst  not  be  so  ready  with  it.'' 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  597 

Bailiff.  "  What  is  the  matter  then  ?  Do  n't  make  such  a  blubbering,  but  tell 
.s." 

\\'iff.  "  The  pastor  must  ha\e  got  to  know  that  these  fellows  of  thine  were 
drinking  here  during  service-time." 

Bailiff.     "  That  would  be  a  cursed  business,  indeed." 
HV/r.     "  He  knows  it,  to  a  certainty." 

Bailiff.     "  What  Satan  could  tell  him  of  it  just  now  ?  " 

Wife.  "  What  Satan,  thou  simpleton  ?  They  come  here  smoking  their  pipes 
along  the  street,  instead  of  by  the  ba^k  way ;  and  s.o  pass  close  by  the  elder's 
house.  It  is  impossible  to  tell  thee  in  what  a  way  the  pastor  has  been  talking, 
and  all  the  people  have  been  pointing  at  me  with  their  lingers." 

Bailiff".     "  This  is  a  damned  trick  that  some  Satan  has  been  playing  me." 

Wife.  "  Why  must  you  come  just  to-day,  you  drunken  hounds? — you  knew 
wftll  enough  that  it  was  not  right." 

Men.     "  It  is  not  our  fault.     He  sent  for  us." 

Wife.     "Did  he?" 

Men.     "  Ay,  that  he  did." 

Bailiff.     "  I  was  in  such  a  strange  way,  I  could  not  bear  to  be  alone." 

Wife.  "  Well,  it  is  no  matter  how  it  was.  But,  neighbors,  go,  as  quickly  as 
you  can,  through  the  back  door,  home ;  and  take  care  that  the  people,  as  they 
come  out  of  the  church,  may  find  every  one  of  you  at  his  own  door — and  so  you 
may  put  a  cloak  over  the  thing.  They  have  not  yet  quite  finished  the  hymn, 
but  go  directly.  It  is  high  time." 

Bailiff.     "  Yes ;  away  with  you.     It  is  well  advised." 

The  men  went,  and  the  bailiff's  wife  told  him  that  the  pastor  had  preached 
about  Judas,  how  the  devil  had  entered  into  his  heart,  how  he  had  hanged  him- 
self;— and  how  those  who  went  from  the  Lord's  supper  to  drink  and  game  would 
Dome  to  a  like  end." 

"He  was  so  earnest,"  said  the  woman,  "  that  he  struck  the  cushion  with  his 
fist,  and  I  turned  quite  sick  and  faint." 

The  bailiff  was  so  much  terrified  by  this  account  that  it  struck  him  dumb, 
and  he  could  not  utter  a  word ;  and  heavy  groans  escaped  from  the  proud  man, 
who  had  not  been  heard  to  utter  such  for  years. 

His  wife  asked  him,  repeatedly,  why  he  groaned  in  such  a  manner? 

He  answered  her  not  a  word ;  but  more  than  once  he  muttered  to  himself: 
"  What  is  to  be  the  end  of  this?  what  will  become  of  me?  " 

He  paced  up  and  down  the  room  in  this  way  for  a  long  time,  and  at  last  said 
lo  his  wife :  "  Get  me  a  cooling  powder  from  the  barber's ;  my  blood  is  in  a  fever, 
and  oppresses  me.  I  will  be  bled  to-morrow,  if  the  medicine  does  not  remove 
it." 

His  wife  fetched  him  the  powder ;  he  took  it,  and,  after  a  while,  became 
easier.  • 

CHAPTER  XLIV. — DESCRIPTION  OF  A  WICKED  MAN'S  FEELINGS  DURING  THE 
SACRAMENT. 

THEN  he  told  his  wife  how  in  the  morning  he  had  gone  with  right  feelings  to 
church,  and  in  the  beginning  of  the  service  nad  prayed  to  God  to  forgive  his 
Bins ;  but  that  the  pastor's  discourse  haa  driven  him  mad,  he  had  not  had  one 
good  thought  since,  and  dreadful  and  horrible  things  had  occurred  to  him  during 
.he  sacrament.  "  From  the  beg'aning  to  the  end,"  said  he  to  his  wife,  "  I  could 


598  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

not  utter  a  single  prayer.  My  heart  was  like  a  stone ;  and  when  the  pastor  gave 
me  tho  bread,  he  looked  at  me  in  a  way  I  can  not  describe.  No,  it  is  impossible 
to  give  an  idea  of  it ;  but  I  shall  never  forget  it.  When  a  judge  condemns  a 
poor  sinner  to  the  wheel,  or  the  flames,  and  breaks  his  rod  of  office  over  him,  he 
does  not  look  at  him  in  such  a  way.  I  can  never  forget  how  he  looked  at  rne. 
A  cold  sweat  ran  down  my  face ;  and  my  hands  trembled  as  I  took  the  bread 
from  him. 

"And  when  I  had  eaten  it,  a  furious,  horrible  rage  against  the  pastor  took  pos- 
session of  me,  so  that  I  gnashed  with  my  teeth,  and  durst  not  look  round  me. 

"  Wife !  one  dreadful  idea  after  another  came  into  my  mind,  and  terrified  me 
like  a  thunderbolt ;  but  I  could  not  get  rid  of  them. 

"I  shuddered  at  the  altar,  so  that  I  could  not  hold  the  cup  fast;  and  then 
•came  Joseph,  with  his  torn  boots,  and  threw  down  his  rogue's  eyes  when  he  saw 
me.  And  my  three  crowns  1 — 0,  how  I  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  my  three 
crowns. 

"Then  came  Gertrude,  who  raised  her  eyes  to  heaven,  and  then  fixed  them 
on  the  cup,  as  if  she  had  not  seen  me,  as  if  I  had  not  been  there.  She  hates 
me,  and  curses  me,  and  wishes  to  ruin  me ;  and  yet  she  could  behave  as  if  she 
did  not  see  me,  as  if  I  had  not  been  there. 

"  Then  came  the  mason,  and  looked  so  sorrowfully  at  me,  as  if  he  would  have 
said,  from  the  bottom  of  his  heart :  '  Forgive  me.  bailiff.'  He,  who  would  bring 
me  to  the  gallows,  if  he  could. 

"Then  came  Shaben  Michel,  as  pale  and  frightened  as  myself,  and  trembling 
as  much.  Think,  wife,  what  a  state  all  this  put  me  into. 

"  I  was  afraid  Hans  Wust  would  be  coming  too ;  I  could  not  have  stood  that — 
the  cup  would  certainly  have  fallen  out  of  my  hand,  and  I  should  have  dropped 
upon  the  ground.  As  it  was,  I  could  scarcely  keep  upon  my  feet ;  and,  when  I 
got  back  to  my  seat,  all  my  limbs  shook,  so  that  when  they  were  singing  I 
could  not  hold  the  book. 

"And  all  the  time  I  kept  thinking — 'Arner,  Arner  is  at  the  bottom  of  all 
this! '  and  anger,  fury,  and  revenge  raged  in  my  heart  the  whole  time.  A  thing 
I  had  never  thought  of  in  my  life  came  into  my  head  during  the  sacrament.  I 
dare  scarcely  tell  thee  what  it  was.  I  am  frightened  when  I  only  think  of  it. 
It  came  into  my  head  to  throw  his  great  landmark,  on  the  hill,  down  the  preci- 
pice. Nobody  knows  of  the  landmark  but  myself." 

CHAPTER  XLV. — THE  BAILIFF'S  WIFE  TELLS  HER  HUSBAND  SOUK  WEIGHTY 
TRUTHS.  BUT  MANY  TEARS  TOO  LATE. 

THE  bailiff's  speech  alarmed  his  wife,  but  she  knew  not  what  to  say,  and  was 
silent  whilst  he  spoke. 

Neither  of  them  said  any  thing  more  for  some  time.  At  last  the  wife  began, 
and  said  to  him:  "I  am  very  uneasy  on  account  of  what  thwu  hast  been  saying. 
Thou  must  give  up  these  companions  of  thine.  This  business  can  not  end  well, 
and  we  are  growing  old." 

Bailiff.     "  Thou  art  right  enough  there.     But  it  is  not  so  easy  to  do  it." 

Wife.     "  Easy  or  not,  it  must  be  done.     Thou  must  get  rid  of  them." 

Bailiff.  "  Thou  knowest  well  enough  how  I  am  tied  to  them,  and  what  they 
know  about  me." 

Wife.  "  Thou  knowest  still  more  about  them.  They  are  a  parcel  of  rogues, 
and  dare  not  peach.  Thou  must  get  rid  of  them." 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  599 

The  bailiff  groaned,  and  his  wife  continued: — 

il  They  sit  eating  and  drinking  here  constantly,  and  pay  thee  nothing ;  and 
when  thou  art  intoxicated  they  can  persuade  thee  to  any  thing.  Only  think 
•how  Joseph  tricked  thee  last  night.  I  wanted  to  advise  thee  for  thy  good,  and 
pretty  treatment  I  got  for  my  pains.  And,  moreover,  since  yesterday  two 
crowns  more  have  walked  out  of  thy  waistcoat  pocket,  without  being  so  much 
as  set  down.  How  long  can  this  last?  If  thou  wilt  only  reckon  up  how 
much  thou  hast  spent  over  thy  misdeeds,  thou  wilt  find  that  thou  hast  lost  by 
them  every  way.  And  yet  thou  goest  on  still  with  these  people ;  and  many  a 
time  and  oft  it  is  for  the  sake  of  nothing  in  the  world  but  thy  godless  pride. 
Sometimes  thou  wilt  have  one  of  these  hounds  to  say  something  for  thee,  and 
then  another  must  hold  his  tongue  for  thee ;  and  so  they  come  and  eat  and  drink 
at  vhy  cost,  and,  for  their  gratitude,  they  are  ready  at  the  first  turn  to  rain  and 
betray  thee. 

"  Formerly,  indeed,  when  they  feared  thee  like  a  drawn  sword,  thou  couldst 
keep  these  fellows  in  order ;  but  now  thou  art  their  master  no  longer,  and  depend 
upon  it,  thou  art  a  lost  man  in  thy  old  age,  if  thou  dost  not  look  sharply  after 
them.  We  are  in  as  slippery  a  situation  as  can  well  be.  The  moment  thou 
turnest  thy  back,  the  lads  begin  laughing  and  talking,  and  will  not  do  a  stroke 
of  work,  nor  any  thing  but  drink."  So  said  the  wife. 

The  bailiff  answered  her  not  a  word,  but  sat  staring  at  her,  without  speaking, 
whilst  she  spoke.  At  last  he  got  up,  and  went  into  the  garden,  and  from  the 
garden  into  his  meadow,  and  then  into  the  stables.  Trouble  and  anxiety  fol- 
lowed him  every  where ;  but  he  stood  still  for  a  while  in  the  stables,  and  rea- 
soned thus  with  himself: — 

CHAPTER  XLVI. — SOLILOQUY  OP  A  MAN  WHOSE  THOUGHTS  UNHAPPILY  LEAD 
HIM  TOO  PAR. 

"WHAT  my  wife  says  is  but  too  true;  but  what  can  I  do?  I  can  not  help 
it  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  escape  out  of  this  net."  So  said  the  bailiff,  and 
again  cursed  Arner,  as  if  he  had  been  the  cause  of  his  getting  into  all  these  dif- 
ficulties ;  and  then  abused  the  pastor  for  driving  him  mad  at  church.  Then  he 
recurred  again  to  the  landmark,  and  said:  "I  will  not  touch  the  cursed  stone; 
but  if  any  one  did  remove  it  the  squire  would  lose  the  third  part  of  his  wood. 
It  is  clear  enough,  that  the  eighth  and  ninth  government  landmark  would  cut 
through  his  property  in  a  straight  line.  But  heaven  forbid  that  I  should  remove 
a  landmark !  " 

Then  he  began  again :  "  Suppose  after  all  it  should  be  no  true  landmark.  It 
lies  there,  as  if  it  had  been  since  the  flood,  and  has  neither  a  letter  nor  a  figure 
upon  it." 

Then  he  went  again  into  the  house,  took  down  his  account  book — added  it 
up — wrote  in  it — blotted  it — separated  his  papers,  and  laid  them  back  again — 
forgot  what  he  had  read — looked  up  again  what  he  had  written — then  put  the 
book  into  the  chest — walked  up  and  down  the  room,  and  kept  thinking  and 
talking  to  himself  of  "  a  landmark  without  a  letter  or  a  figure  upon  it.  There 
is  not  such  another  to  be  found  any  where !  What  an  idea  is  come  into  my 
head!  Some  ancestor  of  the  family  may  have  made  an  inroad  into  the  govern- 
ment wood,  and  suppose  this  stone  were  of  his  placing !  By  G ,  it  must  be 

so!  It  is  the  most  unaccountable  bend  in  the  whole  government  boundary. 
For  six  miles  it  goes  in  a  straight  line  till  it  comes  here,  and  the  stone  has  no 
mark  upon  it,  and  there  is  no  trench  of  separation. 


300  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

"  If  the  wood  really  belongs  to  the  government,  I  should  be  doing  nothing 
wrong.  It  would  be  only  my  duty  to  the  government.  But  if  I  should  be  mis- 
taken !  No,  I  will  not  touch  the  stone.  I  should  have  to  dig  it  up  and  to  roll 
it,  on  some  dark  night,  to  the  distance  of  a  stone's  throw  over  the  level  part  to 
the  precipice;  and  it  is  a  great  weight.  It  will  not  fall  down  like  a  stream  of 
water.  By  day  every  stroke  of  the  mattock  would  be  heard,  it  is  so  near  the 
highway ;  and  at  night — I  dare  not  venture.  1  should  start  at  every  sound.  If 
a  badger  came  by,  or  a  deer  sprang  up,  I  could  not  go  on  with  the  work.  And 
who  knows  whether  really  a  goblin  might  not  catch  me  while  I  was  doing  it  ? 
It  is  not  safe  around  the  landmark  in  the  night ;  I  had  better  let  it  alone !  " 

After  a  while  he  began  again:  "To  think  that  there  are  so  many  folks  who 
do  n't  believe  either  in  hell  or  in  spirits !  The  old  attorney  did  not  believe  a 
word  of  them,  nor  did  the  pastor's  assistant.  By  heaven,  it  is  impossible  that 
he  could  believe  in  any  thing.  And  the  attorney  has  told  me  plainly,  a  hundred 
times,  that,  when  I  was  once  dead,  it  would  be  all  the  same  with  me  as  with  my 
dog  or  horse.  This  was  his  belief,  and  he  was  afraid  of  nothing,  and  did  what 
he  would.  Suppose  he  were  to  prove  right !  If  I  could  believe  it,  if  I  could 
hope  it,  if  I  could  be  assured  in  my  heart  that  it  was  so,  the  first  time  Arner  went 
out  to  hunt,  I  would  hide  myself  behind  a  tree  and  shoot  him  dead.  I  would 
burn  the  pastor's  house — but  it  is  to  no  purpose  talking.  I  can  not  believe  it ; 
I  dare  not  hope  it.  It  is  not  true ;  and  they  are  fools,  mistaken  fools,  who  think 
so!  There  must  be  a  God!  There  certainly  must  be  a  God!  Landmark! 
Landmark !  I  will  not  remove  thee !  " 

So  sa3ring  the  man  trembled,  but  could  not  drive  the  thought  out  of  his  head. 
He  shuddered  with  horror !  He  sought  to  escape  from  himself;  walked  up  the 
street,  joined  the  first  neighbor  he  met  with,  and  talked  to  him  about  the  weath- 
er, the  wind,  and  the  snails  which  had  injured  the  rye  harvest  for  some  years 
past. 

After  some  time  he  returned  home  with  a  couple  of  thirsty  fellows,  to  whom, 
he  gave  something  to  drink,  that  they  might  stay  with  him.  Then  he  took  an- 
other cooling  powder,  and  so  got  over  the  Sunday. 

CHAPTER  XLVII. — DOMESTIC  HAPPINESS  ON  THE  SABBATH  DAY. 

AND  now  I  leave  the  house  of  wickedness  for  a  time.  It  has  sickened  my 
heart  to  dwell  upon  its  horrors.  Now  I  leave  them  for  a  time,  and  my  spirit  is 
lightened  and  I  breathe  freely  again.  I  approach  once  more  the  cottage  where 
human  virtue  dwells. 

In  the  morning,  after  Leonard  and  his  wife  were  gone  to  church,  the  children 
sat  quietly  and  thoughtfully  together  in  the  house,  said  their  prayers,  sang  and 
said  over  what  they  had  learned  in  the  week ;  for  they  always  had  to  repeat  it 
to  Gertrude  every  Sunday  evening. 

Lise,  the  eldest,  had  the  care  of  her  little  brother  during  service  time.  She 
had  to  take  him  up,  dress  him,  and  give  him  his  porridge ;  and  this  was  always 
Lise's  greatest  Sunday  treat ;  for,  when  she  was  looking  after  and  feeding  the 
child,  she  fancied  herself  a  woman.  You  should  have  seen  how  she  played  the 
part  of  mother,  imitated  her,  fondled  the  baby  in  her  arms,  and  nodded  and 
smiled  to  it;  and  how  the  little  one  smiled  again,  held  out  its  hands,  and  kickedi 
with  its  little  feet;  and  how  it  caught  hold  of  Lise's  cap,  or  her  hair,  or  her  nose, 
and  pointed  to  the  smart  Sunday  handkerchief  on  her  neck,  and  called  out,  ha  I* 
ha !  and  then  how  Nicholas  and  Anneli  answered  it,  ha !  ha !  whilst  the  little- 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  (JO! 

one  turned  its  head  round,  to  see  where  the  voice  came  from,  spied  out  Nicholas 
and  laughed  at  him ;  and  then  how  Nicholas  sprang  up  to  kiss  and  fondle  his 
little  brother;  and  how  Lise  then  would  have  the  preference,  and  insisted  upon 
it  that  the  little  darling  was  laughing  at  her ;  and  how  carefully  she  looked  after 
it,  anticipated  all  its  wants,  played  with  it,  and  tossed  it  up  toward  the  ceiling, 
and  then  carefully  let  it  down  again  almost  to  touch  the  ground ;  how  the  baby 
laughed  and  crowed  with  delight,  whilst  she  held  it  up  to  the  looking-glass,  that 
it  might  push  its  little  hands  and  face  against  it ;  and  how  at  last  it  caught  a 
sight  of  its  mother  in  the  street,  and  crowed  and  clapped  its  hands,  and  almost 
sprang  out  of  Lise's  arms. 

Such  were  the  delights  of  Leonard's  children  on  a  Sunday  or  a  feast  day;  and 
such  delights  of  good  children  are  acceptable  in  the  sight  of  their  God.  He 
looks  down  with  complacency  upon  the  innocence  of  children,  when  they  are 
enjoying  existence ;  and,  if  they  continue  good  and  obedient,  he  will  bless  them, 
that  it  may  be  well  with  them  to  the  end  of  their  lives. 

Gertrude  was  satisfied  with  her  children,  for  they  had  done  every  thing  as 
they  had  been  told. 

It '  is  the  greatest  happiness  of  good  children  to  know  that  they  have  given 
satisfaction  to  their  father  and  mother. 

Gertrude's  children  had  this  happiness.  They  climbed  their  parents'  knees, 
jumped  first  into  the  arms  of  one,  and  then  of  the  other,  and  clasped  their  little 
arms  round  their  necks. 

This  was  the  luxury  in  which  Leonard  and  Gertrude  indulged  on  the  Lord's 
day.  Ever  since  she  became  a  mother,  it  had  been  Gertrude's  Sunday  delight 
to  rejoice  over  her  children,  and  over  their  tender  affection  for  their  father  and 
mother. 

Leonard  sighed  this  day,  when  he  thought  how  often  he  had  deprived  himself 
of  such  pleasures. 

Domestic  happiness  is  the  sweetest  enjoyment  of  man  upon  earth;  and  tre 
rejoicing  of  parents  over  their  children  is  the  holiest  of  human  joys.     It  purifie: 
and  hallows  the  heart,  and  raises  it  toward  the  heavenly  Father  of  all.     There 
fore  the  Lord  blesses  the  tears  of  delight  which  flow  from  such  feelings,  au 
richly  repays  every  act  of  parental  watchfulness  and  kindness. 

But  the  ungodly  man,  who  cares  not  for  his  children,  and  to  whom  they  are  a 
trouble  and  a  burthen — the  ungodly  man,  who  flies  from  them  on  the  week  day, 
and  conceals  himself  from  them  on  the  Sabbath ;  who  escapes  from  their  '.-  o- 
cent  enjoyment,  and  finds  no  pleasure  in  them  till  they  are  corrupted  '•'"  "lif 
world,  and  become  like  himself — this  man  throws  away  from  him  the  be,->  o.es> 
ing  of  life.  He  will  not  in  his  old  age  rejoice  in  his  children,  nor  derive  anj 
comfort  from  them. 

On  the  Sabbath  days  Leonard  and  Gertrude,  in  the  joy  of  their  hearts  spoke 
to  their  children  of  the  goodness  of  their  God,  and  of  the  compassion  of  their 
Saviour. 

The  children  listened  silently  and  attentively,  and  the  hour  of  noon  passed 
ewiftly  and  happily  away. 

Then  the  bells  began  to  ring,  and  Leonard  and  Gertrude  went  again  to- 
Jaurch. 

On  their  way  they  passed  by  the  bailiff's  house,  and  Leonard  said  to  Ger- 
trude: "The  bailiff  looked  shockingly  this  morning.  I  never  in  my  life  saw 
him  look  so  before.  The  sweat  dropped  from  his  forehead  as  he  assisted  at  the 


'602  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

sacrament.  Didst  thou  not  notice  it,  Gertrude?  I  perceived  that  he  trembled 
when  he  gave  me  the  cup." 

"I  did  not  notice  it,"  said  Gertrude. 

Leonard.  "  I  was  quite  disturbed  to  see  the  man  in  such  a  state.  If  I  durst, 
1  would  have  asked  him  to  forgive  me ;  and  if  I  could  in  any  way  show  him 
that  I  wish  him  no  ill,  I  would  do  it  gladly." 

Gertrude.  "  May  God  reward  thee  for  thy  kind  heart,  Leonard.  It  will  be 
right  to  do  so,  whenever  thou  hast  an  opportunity.  But  Rudi's  poor  children, 
and  many  others,  cry  out  for  vengeance  against  this  man,  and  he  will  not  be  able 
to  escape." 

Leon.  "  I  am  quite  grieved  to  see  him  so  very  unhappy.  I  have  perceived, 
for  a  long  time  past,  amidst  all  the  noisy  merriment  of  his  house,  that  some 
anxiety  preyed  upon  him  constantly." 

Ger.  "My  'dear  husband,  whoever  departs  from  a  quiet,  holy  life  can  never 
be  really  happy." 

Leon.  lilf  I  ever  in  my  life  saw  any  thing  clearly,  it  was  this:  that  however 
•the  bailiff's  followers,  whom  he  had  about  him  in  the  house,  might  help  him  in 
•the  way  of  assistance,  or  advice,  or  cheating,  or  violence,  they  never  procured 
for  him  a  single  hour  of  contentment  and  ease." 

As  they  were  thus  conversing,  they  arrived  at  church,  and  were  there  very 
much  moved  by  the  great  earnestness  with  which  the  pastor  discoursed  upon 
'the  character  of  the  traitor. 

CHAPTER  XLVIII. — SOME  OBSERVATIONS  UPON  SIN. 

GERTRUDE,  amongst  the  rest,  had  heard  what  was  said,  in  the  women's  seats, 
about  the  bailiff's  house  being  again  full  of  his  people,  and  after  church  she  told 
Leonard  of  it.  He  answered :  "  I  can  scarcely  believe  it,  during  church  time, 
and  on  a  Sunday." 

Gerirude.  "It  is  indeed  very  sad.  But  the  entanglements  of  an  ungodly 
life  lead  to  all,  even  the  most  fearful  wickedness.  I  shall  never  forget  the 
•description  our  late  pastor  gave  us  of  sin,  the  last  time  we  received  the  sacra- 
ment from  him.  He  compared  it  to  a  lake,  which  from  continual  rains  over- 
flowed its  banks.  The  swelling  of  the  lake,  said  he,  is  imperceptible,  but  it  in- 
creases every  day  and  hour,  and  rises  higher  and  higher,  and  the  danger  is  as 
great  as  if  it  overflowed  violently  with  a  sudden  storm. 

"  Therefore  the  experienced  and  prudent  examine,  in  the  beginning,  all  the 
dams  and  embankments,  to  see  whether  they  are  in  a  fit  condition  to  resist  the 
force  of  the  waters.  But  the  inexperienced  and  imprudent  pay  no  attention  to 
the  rising  of  the  lake,  till  the  dams  are  bui-st,  and  the  fields  and  pastures  laid 
waste,  and  till  the  alarm  bell  warns  all  in  the  country  to  save  themselves  from 
the  devastation.  It  is  thus,  said  he,  with  sin  and  the  ruin  which  it  occasions. 

"I  am  not  yet  old,  but  I  have  already  observe^  a  hundred  times,  that  the  good 
pastor  was  right,  and  that  every  one  who  pe*v.  sts  in  the  habitual  commission  of 
any  one  sin,  hardens  his  heart,  so  that  he  nc  longer  perceives  the  increase  of  its 
wickedness,  till  destruction  and  horror  awaken  him  out  of  his  sleep." 

CHAPTER  XLIX. — THE  CHARACTER  AND  EDUCATION  OF  CHILDREN. 
CONVERSING  in  this  manner,  they  returned  to  then*  own  cottage. 
The  children  ran  down  the  steps  to  meet  their  father  and  mother,  and  called 
•>ut :   "  0,  come,  pray  come,  mother !  we  want  to  repeat  what  we  learned  last 
that  we  may  be  ready  directly." 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  (jQ3 

Gertrude.  "Why  are  you  in  such  haste,  my  loves?  "What  need  is  there  for 
it?" 

Children.  "  0,  when  we  have  repeated,  mother,  you  know  what  we  may  do 
then  with  our  afternoon  bread.  You  know,  mother,  what  you  promised  yes- 
terday." 

Mother.  "  I  shall  be  rery  glad  to  hear  whether  you  can  say  what  you  have 
learned." 

Chil.     "  But  then  we  may  do  it  afterward,  mother !  may  we  not  ?  " 

Mother.     "  Yes,  if  you  are  perfect." 

The  children  were  in  great  delight,  and  immediately  repeated  what  they  had 
learned,  very  perfectly. 

Then  the  mother  gave  them  their  pieces  of  bread  and  two  bov^s  of  milk,  from 
which  she  had  not  taken  the  cream,  because  it  was  Sunday. 

She  then  took  the  baby  in  her  arms,  and  rejoiced  in  her  heart  to  hear  the 
children  laying  their  plans,  and  telling  each  other  how  they  would  give  thei: 
bread.  Not  one  of  them  ate  a  mouthful  of  it,  not  one  of  them  dipped  a  morse. 
into  the  milk,  but  each  rejoiced  over  his  piece,  showed  it  to  the  others,  and 
maintained  that  it  was  the  largest  share. 

The  mi)k  was  soon  finished,  but  the  bread  was  all  lying  by  the  mother 
Nicholas  crept  up  to  her,  took  her  hand,  and  said:  "You  will  givo  me  a  piec< 
of  bread  for  myself  too,  mother?  " 

Mother.     "Thou  hast  got  it  already,  Nicholas." 

Nicholas.     "  Yes ;  but  that  is  what  I  must  give  to  Rudeli." 

Mother.  "  I  did  not  bid  thee  give  it  to  him ;  thou  mayst  eat  it  thyself;  if  thot 
•wilt" 

Nich.  "  No,  I  will  not  eat  it ;  but  will  you  not  give  me  another  piece  for  my- 
self, mother?" 

Mother.     "  No,  certainly  not." 

Nich.     "  Why  not,  mother  ?  " 

Mother.  "  That  thou  mayst  not  fancy  that  people  should  begin  to  think  of 
the  poor,  only  when  they  are  satisfied,  and  have  eaten  as  much  as  they  »an." 

Nich.     "  Is  that  the  reason,  mother?  " 

Mother.     "Wilt  thou  now  give  him  the  whole?  " 

Nich.  "  0,  yes.  to  be  sure  I  will,  mother.  I  know  he  is  terribly  hungry,  and 
we  shall  eat  again  at  six  o'clock." 

Mother.     "And,  Nicholas,  I  think  Rudeli  will  get  nothing  then." 

Nich.     "No,  indeed,  mother;  he  will  have  no  supper." 

Mother.  "The  want  of  those  poor  children  is  great  indeed,  and  one  must  b" 
~very  hard  and  cruel  not  to  spare,  whatever  one  can,  from  one's  own  food,  to  re 
lieve  them  in  their  distress." 

Tears  came  into  the  eyes  of  Nicholas.  The  mother  then  turned  to  the  other 
-children:  "Lise,  dost  thou  mean  to  give  away  all  thy  piece?" 

Lise.     "Yes,  certainly,  mother." 

Mother.     "And  thou  too,  Enne?  " 

Enne.     "Yes,  mother." 

Mother.     "And  thou  too,  Jonas?" 

•Jonas.     "I  think  so,  mother." 

Mother.  "I  am  glad  of  it,  my  children.  But  how  will  you  set  about  it? 
Every  thing  should  be  done  in  the  right  way,  and  people  who  mean  very  well, 
often  manage  very  ill.  Tell  me,  Nicholas,  how  wilt  thou  give  thy  bread?  " 


J04  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

A7'7<.  "I  will  run,  as  fast  as  I  can,  and  call  him,  Rudeli,  I  mean;  but  I  will 
not  put  it  into  my  pocket,  that  I  may  give  it  him  sooner.  Let  me  go  now, 
mother." 

Mother.     "  Stop  a  moment,  Nicholas.     And  how  wilt  thou  manage,  Lise  ?  " 

Lise.  "I  will  not  do  like  Nicholas.  I  will  beckon  Betheli  into  a  corner;  I 
will  hide  the  bread  under  my  apr  jr.,  and  I  will  give  it  her,  so  that  nobody  may 
see  it,  not  even  her  father." 

Moilier      "And  what  wilt  thou  do,  Enne?  " 

Enne.  "  I  do  n't  know  where  I  shall  meet  with  Heireli :  I  will  give  it  as  I 
find  best  at  the  time." 

Mother.  "And  thou,  Jonas!  Thou  hast  some  trick  in  thy  head,  little  rogue. 
How  wilt  thou  do  ?  " 

Jonas.  "I  will  stick  my  bread  into  his  mouth  as  you  do,  mother,  when  you 
are  playing  with  me.  I  shall  say  to  him :  Open  your  mouth  and  shut  your  eyes, 
and  then  I  shall  put  it  between  his  teeth.  I  am  sure  he  will  laugh  then, 
mother." 

Mother.  "Very  well,  my  children.  But  I  must  tell  you  one  thing.  You 
must  give  the  children  the  bread  quietly,  and  so  as  not  to  be  observed ;  lest 
people  should  think  you  fancy  you  are  doing  a  very  fine  thing." 

Nich.  "Potz  tausend,  mother!  then  I  had  better  put  the  bread  into  my 
pocket,  after  all." 

Mother.     "I  think  so,  Nicholas." 

Line.  "  I  thought  of  that  before,  mother;  and  that  was  the  reason  why  I  said 
I  should  not  do  like  him." 

Mother.  "  Thou  art  always  the  cleverest,  Lise.  I  ought  not  to  have  forgot- 
ten to  praise  thee  for  it,  and  thou  dost  well  to  remind  me  of  it." 

Lise  blushed  and  was  silent,  and  the  mother  said  to  the  children:  "You  may 
go  now,  but  remember  what  I  have  said  to  yon."  The  children  went. 

Nicholas  ran  and  leaped,  as  fast  as  he  could,  <inwn  to  Rudi's  house,  but  Rudeli 
was  not  in  the  street.  Nicholas  shouted,  and  whistled,  and  called,  but  in  vain ; 
he  did  not  come  out,  even  to  the  window.  Then  said  Nicholas  to  himself: 
"  What  must  I  do  now  ?  Must  I  go  into  the  house  to  him  ?  But  I  must  give 
it  him  alone.  I  will  go  and  tell  him  to  come  out  into  the  street." 

Rudeli  was  sitting  with  his  father  and  sisters  by  the  open  coffin  of  his  dear 
grandmother,  who  was  to  be  buried  in  two  hours ;  and  the  father  and  his  chil- 
dren were  talking,  with  tears  in  their  eyes,  of  the  kindness  and  love  which  she 
had  always  shown  them.  They  wept  over  her  last  trouble  about  the  potatoes, 
and  promised  again,  as  they  looked  at  her,  that,  however  hungry  they  might  be, 
they  would  never  steal  from  any  body. 

At  this  moment  Nicholas  opened  the  door,  saw  the  dead  body,  was  frightened, 
and  ran  out  of  the  house  again. 

Rudi,  who  thought  he  might  have  some  message  to  him  from  Leonard,  went 
after  the  boy,  and  asked  what  he  wanted.  "  Nothing,  nothing,"  answered  Nich- 
olas, "  only  I  wanted  to  speak  to  Rudeli,  but  he  is  at  his  prayers." 

Rudi.     "  You  may  come  in,  if  you  want  him." 

Nich.     "Let  him  come  here  to  me  for  a  moment." 

Rudi.  "  It  is  so  cold,  and  he  does  not  like  to  leave  his  grandmother.  Come- 
nto  the  house  to  him." 

Nich.     "  I  can  not  go  in.  Rudi.     Let  him  come  to  me  for  a  moment." 

"Well  then,  he  sha.'l,"  answered  Rudi,  and  went  back  into  the  house. 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  (JQ5 

Nicholas  followed  him  to  the  door,  and  called:  "Rudeli,  come  here  just  for 
-one  moment." 

Rudeli.  "  I  can  not  come  into  the  street,  Nicholas !  I  would  rather  stay  with 
my  grandmother.  They  will  soon  take  her  away  from  us." 

Nich.     "  It  is  but  for  a  moment." 

Rudi.     "  Go  and  see  what  he  wants." 

Rudeli  went  out,  and  Nicholas  took  him  by  the  arm,  and  saying:  "  Come  here 
I  have  something  to  say  to  you,"  led  him  into  a  corner,  thrust  the  bread  quickly 
into  his  pocket,  and  ran  away. 

Rudeli  thanked  him,  and  called  after  him:  "Thank  your  father  and  your 
mother  too." 

Nicholas  turned  round,  made  a  sign  to  him,  with  his  hand,  to  be  quiet,  said : 
"Don't  tell  any  body,"  and  went  off  again  like  an  arrow. 

•CHAPTER  L. — CONCEIT  AND  BAD  HABITS  INTERFERE  WITH  OUR  HAPPINESS, 
EVEN  WHEN  WE  ARE  DOING  A  KIND  ACTION. 

LISE,  in  the  meantime,  walked  deliberately  to  the  higher  village,  to  Betheli, 
Marx  Reuti's  daughter.  She  was  standing  at  the  window. 

Lise  beckoned  to  her,  and  Betheli  crept  out  of  the  house.  But  her  father, 
who  observed  it,  followed  her,  and  hid  himself  behind  the  door. 

The  children  thought  not  of  him,  and  chattered  away  to  their  hearts'  content. 

Lise.     "Betheli,  I  have  brought  you  some  bread." 

Betheli.  (Shivering,  and  stretching  out  her  hand.)  "  You  are  very  kind,  Lise ; 
-and  I  am  very  hungry.  But  why  do  you  bring  me  bread  to-day?  " 

Lise.  "Because  I  like  you,  Betheli.  We  have  now  bread  enough.  My 
•  father  is  to  build  the  church." 

Beth.     "And  so  is  mine,  too." 

Lise.     "Yes;  but  your  father  is  only  a  day-laborer." 

Beth.     "  It  is  all  the  same  thing,  if  it  brings  us  bread." 

Lise.     "  Have  you  been  very  ill  off?  " 

Beth.     "  0 1  I  do  hope  we  shall  do  better  now." 

Lise.     "What  have  you  had  for  dinner?" 

Beth.     "  I  dare  not  tell  you." 

Lise.     "Why  not?" 

Beth.     "  If  my  lather  were  to  find  it  out,  he  would — " 

Lise.     '•  I  shall  never  tell  him." 

Betheli  took  a  piece  of  a  raw  turnip  out  of  her  pocket,  and  said :  '•  See  here." 

Lise.     "  Goodness !  nothing  better  than  that  ?  " 

Beth.     "  We  have  had  nothing  better  this  two  days." 

Lise.     "And  you  must  not  tell  any  body;  nor  ask  any  body  for  any  thing — " 

Beth.  "  If  he  only  knew  I  had  told  you,  it  would  be  a  pretty  business  for 
mie." 

Lise.     "Well,  eat  the  bread  before  you  go  in  again." 

Beth.     "  Yes,  that  I  will,  or  I  shall  not  get  it." 

She  began  to  eat,  and  at  that  moment  Marx  opened  the  door,  and  said-: 
'"What  art  thou  eating,  my  child?  " 

His  child  gulped  and  swallowed  down  the  unchewed  mouthful,  and  said : 
"Nothing,  nothing,  father." 

M'irx.  "Nothing  was  it?  but  stop  a  moment!  Lise,  I  don't  like  people  to 
:give  my  children  bread,  behind  my  back,  for  telling  them  such  godless  lies  about 


606  LEONARD   AND   (JKKTRI'DE. 

what  is  eattn.and  drunk  in  the  house.  Thou  godless  Betheli!  dost  thou  not 
know  that  we  had  a  chicken  for  dinner  to-day  ?  " 

Lise  now  walked  off  as  fast,  as  she  had  come  deliberately. 

But  Marx  took  Betheli  by  the  arm,  and  dragged  her  into  the  house,  and  Liae 
heard  her  crying  bitterly,  even  when  she  was  a  great  way  off. 

Kmi>-  mot  Ileirdi  in  the  door-way  of  his  own  house,  and  said:  "Would  you 
like  a  piece  of  bread?  " 

Heireli.  "Yes,  if  you  have  any  for  me."  Enne  gave  it  him;  he  thanked 
her,  and  she  went  away  again. 

Jonas  crept  about  Shaben  Michel's  house,  till  Robert  saw  him,  and  came  out. 
'•What  are  you  after,  Jonas?"  said  Robert. 

Jonas.     "  I  want  to  have  some  play." 

Robert.     "  Well,  I  will  play  with  you,  Jonas." 

Jonas.  "  Will  you  do  what  I  tell  you,  Robert  ?  and  then  we  shall  have  some 
sport." 

RoU.     "What  do  you  want  me  to  do ?  " 

Jonas.     "You  must  shut  your  eyes,  and  open  your  mouth." 

RoU.     "  Ay,  but  perhaps  you  will  put  something  dirty  into  my  mouth." 

Jonas.     "No,  I  promise  you,  faithfully.  T  will  not,  Robert." 

Robt.  "Well — but  look  to  it  if  you  cheat  me,  Jonas!"  (He  opened  his 
mouth,  and  half  shut  his  eyes.) 

Jonas.     "You  must  shut  your  eyes  quite  close,  or  it  will  not  do." 

Robt.  "Yes!  but  if  you  should  prove  a  rogue,  Jonas;"  said  Robert,  shutting 
his  eyes  quite  close. 

Jonas  popped  the  bread  into  his  mouth  directly,  and  ran  off. 

Robert  took  the  bread  out  of  his  mouth,  and  said :  "  This  is  good  sport,  in- 
deed," and  sat  down  to  eat  it. 

CHAPTER  LI. — NO  MAN  CAN  TELL  WHAT  HAPPY  CONSEQUENCES  MAY  RESULT 
FROM  EVEN  THE  MOST  TRIFLING  GOOD  ACTION. 

SHABEN  MICHEL  saw  the  sport  of  the  children  from  the  window,  and  knew 
Jonas,  Leonard's  son,  and  it  struck  him  to  the  heart. 

"  What  a  Satan  I  am !  "  said  he  to  himself.  "  I  have  sold  myself  to  the  bailiff, 
to  betray  the  man  who  provides  me  with  work  and  food,  and  now  I  must  see 
that  even  this  little  fellow  has  the  heart  of  an  angel.  I  will  not  do  any  thing 
to  injure  these  people.  Since  yesterday,  the  bailiff  has  been  an  abomination  to 
me.  I  can  not  forget  his  look  when  he  gave  me  the  cup  1 "  So  said  the  man,  and 
he  remained  at  home  the  rest  of  the  evening,  thinking  over  his  past  conduct. 

Leonard's  children  were  now  all  returned,  and  told  their  father  and  mother 
how  they  had  gone  on,  and  were  very  merry — all  except  Lise,  who  tried,  never- 
theless, to  look  like  the  rest,  and  said  a  great  deal  about  Betheli's  delight  when 
she  received  the  bread. 

"I  am  sure  something  has  happened  to  thee,"  said  Gertrude. 

"0,  no,  nothing  has  happened;  and  she  was  very  glad,  indeed,  to  have  il," 
answered  Lise. 

Her  mother  inquired  no  further,  but  prayed  with  her  children,  gave  them  their 
suppers,  and  put  them  to  bed. 

Afterward  Leonard  and  Gertrude  read  for  an  hour  in  the  Bible,  and  talked 
about  what  they  had  read,  and.  passed  a  very  happy  Sunday  evening  together 


LEONARD  AM)  GERTRUDE.  607 

CHAPTER  LII. — EARLY  IN  THE  MORNING  is  TOO  LATE  FOR  WHAT  OUGHT  TO  BE 

DONE   THE   EVENING   BEFORE. 

VERY  early  in  the  morning,  as  soon  as  the  mason  awoke,  he  heard  some  one 
calling  to  him.  in  the  front  of  the  house,  and  got  up  immediately,  and  opened 
the  door. 

It  was  Flink,  the  huntsman,  from  the  hall.  He  wished  the  mason  good 
morning,  and  said:  "Mason,  I  should  have  told  thee,  last  night,  to  set  the  men, 
to  work  this  morning  without  delay,  at  breaking  stone." 

Mason.  "  From  what  I  hear,  the  bailift'  has  told  all  the  workmen  to  go  to  the 
hall  this  morning.  But  it  is  early  yet,  they  can  scarcely  be  set  out,  and  I  will. 
tell  them." 

He  called  to  Lenk,  who  lived  next  door,  but  got  no  answer. 

After  some  time,  Keller,  who  lodged  in  the  same  house,  came  out,  and  said : 
'  Lenk  went  half  an  hour  ago  to  the  hall,  with  the  rest  of  the  men.  The  bailiff" 
told  them  last  night,  after  supper,  that  they  must,  without  fail,  be  at  the  hall  be- 
times, as  he  had  to  be  at  home  again  by  noon." 

The  huntsman  was  very  uneasy  at  the  intelligence,  and  said :  "  This  is  a  cursed 
business!  "  "  But  what  must  be  done?  "  said  the  mason. 

Flink.     "  Is  there  any  chance  of  overtaking  them  ?  " 

Mason.  "  From  Haiti's  hill  thou  rnayst  see  them  a  mile  and  a  half  off;  and,  if 
the  wind  be  fair,  thou  mayst  call  them  back  so  far." 

Flink  made  no  delay,  but  ran  quickly  up  the  hill,  called,  whistled,  and  shouted, 
with  all  his  might,  but  in  vain.  They  did  not  hear  him,  but  went  their  way, 
and  were  soon  out  of  sight. 

The  bailiff,  who  was  not  so  far  off,  heard  him  call  from  the  hill,  and  looked 
out.  The  huntsman's  gun  glittered  in  the  sun,  so  that  the  bailiff  recognized  him, 
and  wondered  what  the  man  wanted,  and  went  back  to  meet  him. 

Flink  told  him  that  he  had  had  a  terrible  headache  the  day  before,  and  had 
delayed  going,  to  tell  the  mason  to  set  the  men  to  work  to  break  stone  the  first 
thing  this  morning. 

CHAPTER  LIII. — THE  MORE  CULPABLE  A  MAN  is  HIMSELF,  THE  MORE  VIOLENTLY 

DOES   HE   ABUSE   ANOTHER   WHO   HAS  DONE  WRONG. 

"  THOU  cursed  knave !  what  a  trick  thou  hast  played  now  1 "  said  the 
bailiff. 

Flink.  "  Perhaps  it  will  not  turn  out  so  ill.  How  the  deuce  could  I  tell  that 
the  fellows  would  all  run  oft'  to  the  hall  before  daybreak!  "Was  it  by  your 
orders  ?  " 

Bailiff.  "Yes,  it  was,  thou  dog;  and  I  suppose  I  shall  now  have  to  answer 
for  thy  fault." 

Flink.  "I  wish  I  may  come  clear  oft'  myself." 

Bailiff.  "  It  is  a  cursed—  " 

Flink.  "That  was  the  very  word  I  used  myself,  when  I  heard  they  were 
gone." 

Bailiff.  "  I  want  no  nonsense  now,  knave." 

Flink.  "Nor  I  neither;  but  what  is  to  be  done? " 

Bailiff.  "You  fool,  think." 

Flink.  "  It  is  half  an  hour  too  late  for  my  brains  to  discover  any." 

Bailiff.  "  Stop — one  must  never  despair !     A  thought  strikes  me.     Maintain 


<308  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

boldly  that  thou  gavest  the  order  last  night  to  the  mason's  wife,  or  to  one  of  his 
children.  They  will  not  out-talk  thee,  if  thou  art  resolute." 

Flink.     "  I  will  not  try  that  plan.     It  may  miss." 

Bailiff.  "  Nay,  it  could  not  miss,  if  thou  wert  steady.  But,  upon  second 
thoughts,  I  have  hit  upon  another  which  is  better." 

Flink..     "What's  that ?;' 

Bailiff.  "  Thou  must  run  back  to  the  mason,  and  lament  and  grieve  over  it ; 
and  tell  him,  it  may  be  a  great  loss  to  thee  to  have  neglected  the  order ;  but  that 
he  may  get  thee  out  of  trouble  by  speaking  one  word  for  thee,  and  telling  the 
squire  that  he  received  his  note  on  the  Sunday ;  and,  by  mistake,  as  it  was  the 
Sabbath,  had  not  opened  it  till  to-day. 

"  This  will  not  hurt  him  in  the  least,  and  will  get  thee  out  of  the  scrape,  if  thou 
canst  persuade  him  to  do  it." 

Flink.     "You  are  right  there,  and  I  think  it  will  do." 

Bailiff.     "  It  can  not  miss." 

Flink.  "  I  must  go  now.  I  have  other  letters  to  take,  but  I  will  return 
.  some  time  this  morning  to  the  mason.  Good-by,  Bailiff." 

When  the  bailiff  was  left  alone,  he  said :  "  I  will  go  now  and  give  this  account 
at  the  hall.  If  it  does  not  agree,  I  will  say  it  is  what  the  huntsman  told  me." 

CHAPTER  LIV. — USELESS  LABOR  FOR  POOR  PEOPLE. 

IN  the  meantime,  the  day-laborers  arrived  at  the  hall,  sat  down  on  the  benches 
near  the  door,  and  waited  till  they  were  summoned,  or  till  the  bailiff,  who  had 
promised  to  follow  them,  should  arrive. 

When  the  squire's  footman  saw  the  men  at  the  door,  he  went  down  to  them, 
and  said :  "  What  are  you  here  for,  neighbors  ?  My  master  thinks  you  are  at 
work  at  the  building." 

The  men  answered:  "  The  bailiff  told  us  to  come  here  to  thank  the  squire  for 
giving  us  the  work." 

"That  was  not  necessary,"  answered  Glaus.  "He  will  not  keep  you  long  for 
that ;  but  I  will  tell  him  you  are  here." 

The  footman  told  his  master,  and  the  squire  ordered  the  men  to  come  in,  and 
asked  them,  kindly,  what  they  wanted. 

When  they  had  told  him,  and,  awkwardly  and  with  difficulty,  stammered  out 
something  of  thanks,  the  squire  said :  "  Who  told  you  to  come  here  on  this 
account?" 

"The  bailiff,"  replied  the  men,  and  again  attempted  k>  give  him  thanks. 

"This has  happened  against  my  wish,"  said  Arner.  "But  go  away  now,  and 
be  diligent  and  faithful,  and  I  shall  be  glad  if  the  work  is  of  use  to  any  of  you. 
And  tell  your  master  that  you  must  begin  to  break  the  stone  to-day." 

Then  the  men  went  home  again. 

CHAPTER  LV. — A  HYPOCRITE  MAKES  FRIENDS  WITH  A  ROGUE. 
AND  as  they  returned,  one  of  the  men  said  to  the  others:  "This  young  squire 
is  a  very  kind-hearted  man." 

"  And  so  would  the  old  one  have  been  too,  if  he  had  not  been  imposed  upon, 
in  a  thousand  ways,"  said  the  old  men  with  one  voice. 

"  My  father  has  told  me,  a  hundred  times,  that  he  was  very  well  inclined  ir 
his  youth,  and  would  have  continued  so,  if  he  had  not  been  so  infatuated  by  the 
bailiff,"  said  Abi. 

1  And  then  it  was  all  over  with  the  squire's  kindness.     It  dropped  only  into 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  009 

the  bailiff's  chest,  and  he  led  him  about,  as  he  chose,  like  a  great  Polar  bear," 
said  Leemann. 

•'  "What  a  shameful  trick  he  has  played  us  now,  to  send  us  all  this  way  with- 
out orders,  and  then  leave  us  to  get  out  of  the  scrape  ourselves,"  said  Lenk. 

"That  is  always  his  way,"  said  Kienast. 

"And  a  villainous  way  it  is,"  answered  Lenk. 

"  Yes,  but  the  bailiff  is  a  worthy  man !  Pec  vie  like  us  cr.n  not  always  judge 
of  the  reasons  for  such  things,"  answered  Kriech>r,  .'n  a  raised  tone;  for  he  saw 
the  bailiff  creeping  along  the  hollow,  and  very  ne^r  \\ern. 

"The  devil  1  thou  mayest  praise  him  if  thou  wilt,  bit  I  will  praise  the  squire 
for  the  future,"  said  Lenk,  almost  as  loudly;  for  he  did  not  seethe  bailiff 
below. 

The  latter  now,  as  he  was  speaking,  came  up  out  of  the  hollow,  wished  them 
good  morning,  and  then  said  to  Lenk:  "And  why  art  thou  praising  the  sqiKe 
-at  this  rate  ?  " 

Lenk  answered,  in  some  confusion :  "  Because  we  were  talkir g  together  abou* 
his  being  so  good-natured  and  kind  to  us." 

"But  that  was  not  all,"  answered  the  bailiff. 

11 1  know  of  nothing  more,"  said  Lenk. 

"It  is  not  right  for  a  man  to  take  back  his  words  in  that  way,  Lenk."  said 
Kriecher,  and  continued :  "  He  was  not  alone  in  what  he  said,  Mr.  Bailiff.  Some 
of  the  others  were  murmuring  that  you  had  left  them  in  such  a  way,  and  I  was 
saying  that  such  as  we  could  not  judge  of  your  reasons ;  and  upon  this  Lenk 
said :  '  I  might  praise  the  bailiff  if  I  would,  but  that  he  would  praise  the  t.  \uire 
for  the  future.' " 

"Aye,  indeed!  and  so  thou  wert  comparing  the  squire  with  me,"  said  t.\e 
bailiff,  sneeringly. 

"But  he  did  not  mean  it,  as  it  is  now  represented,"  said  some  of  the  men, 
shaking  their  heads,  and  murmuring  against  Kriecher. 

"  There  is  no  need  of  any  explanation  and  no  harm  done.  It  is  an  old  proverb, 
Whose  bread  I  eat,  his  praise  I  sing,"  said  the  bailiff,  and  shaking  Kriecher  by 
the  hand,  he  said  no  more  upon  the  subject,  but  asked  the  men  whether  Arner 
had  been  angry. 

"  No ;"  answered  the  men,  "  not  at  all.  He  only  said,  we  must  go  home  again, 
and  without  fail  begin  the  work  to-day." 

"  Tell  the  mason  s^  and  that  the  mistake  is  of  no  consequence — my  respects 
to  him,"  said  the  bailiff,  and  proceeded  on  his  way;  as  did  the  men. 

Some  time  before  this,  the  huntsman  had  been  to  the  mason,  and  begged 
and  entreated  him  to  say  that  he  had  received  the  note  on  the  Sunday. 

The  mason  was  willing  to  oblige  the  bailiff  and  the  huntsman,  and  mentioned 
it  to  his  wife. 

"I  am  afraid  of  every  thing  which  is  not  straight-forward,"  said  she,  "and  I 
dare  say  the  bailiff  has  already  made  his  own  excuse.  If  the  squire  asks  thee, 
I  think  thou  must  tell  him  the  truth ;  but  perhaps  he  will  not  inquire  any  thing 
more  about  it ;  and  then  thou  canst  leave  it  as  it  is,  that  nobody  may  be  brought 
_nto  trouble."  Leonard  accordingly  told  the  huntsman  that  he  would  do  this. 

In  the  mean  time  the  men  returned  from  the  hall. 

"You  are  soon  back  again,"  said  the  mason. 

"We  might  have  spared  our  labor  altogether;"  replied  they. 

Leonard.     "Was  he  angry  about  the  mistake?" 

89 


610  LEONARD  AND  GERTR.  1>E. 

M  n.  i:No,  not  at  all!  He  was  very  friendly  and  kind,  and  tola  us  «o  eo 
bark  and  begin  the  work  to-day. 

Flink.  "You  see  it  will  be  of  no  consequence  to  you.  It  is  a  very  different 
thing  for  me  and  the  bailiff." 

"0,  but  the  bailiff's  message;  we  had  nearly  forgotton  it,"  said  Hubel  Rudi; 
"  he  sent  his  respects  to  thee,  and  the  mistake  was  of  no  consequence." 

Leon.     " Had  he  been  with  the  squire,  when  you  met  him?  " 

Men.     "No;  we  met  him  on  his  way." 

Leon.  "  Then  he  knew  no  more  than  what  you  told  him,  and  what  I  now 
know  myself?" 

Men.     "  No !  to  be  sure  he  did  not." 

Flink.     "  You  will  keep  your  promise,  mason?  " 

Leon.     "  Yes,  but  exactly  as  I  told  you." 

The  mason  then  ordered  the  men  to  be  at  their  work  early,  prepared  some 
tools,  and,  after  he  had  got  his  dinner,  went  with  the  men,  for  the  first  time,  to 
the  work. 

"  May  God  Almighty  grant  his  blessing  upon  it,"  said  Gertrude,  as  he  went  Out. 

CHAPTER  LVI. — IT  is  DECIDED  THAT  THE  BAILIFF  MUST  NO  LONGER  BE  A 

LANDLORD. 

WHEN  the  bailiff  came  to  the  hall,  Arner  kept  him  waiting  some  time.  At 
jast  he  came  out  of  the  avenue  and  asked  him,  with  some  displeasure:  "What 
.3  the  meaning  of  this  ?  Why  did  you  send  all  these  people  to  the  hall  to-day,, 
vvithout  orders?" 

"  I  thought  it  was  my  duty  to  advise  them  to  thank  your  honor  for  your  good- 
ness." answered  the  bailiff. 

Arner  replied,  "  Your  duty  is  to  do  what  is  useful  to  me  and  to  my  people, 
and  what  I  order  you,  but  not  to  send  poor  folks  all  this  way  for  nothing,  to 
teach  them  to  make  fine  speeches,  which  are  of  no  use,  and  which  I  do  not  seek 
for.  But  the  reason  why  I  sent  for  you,  was  to  tell  you,  that  I  will  no  longer 
have  the  situation  of  bailiff  and  landlord  filled  by  the  same  person." 

The  bailiff  turned  pale,  trembled,  and  knew  not  what  to  reply ;  for  he  was 
quite  unprepared  for  such  a  sudden  resolution. 

Arner  continued,  "I  will  leave  you  to  choose  which  of  the  two  you  prefer; 
but  in  a  fortnight  I  must  know  your  determination." 

The  bailiff  had  somewhat  recovered  himself  again,  and  stammered  out  some 
thanks  for  the  time  allowed  him  to  think  of  it.  Arner  replied,  "I  should  be 
sorry  to  be  hasty  with  any  body,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  oppress  you,  old  man. 
Bnt  the  two  offices  are  incompatible  with  each  other." 

This  kindness  of  Arner  encouraged  the  bailiff.  He  answered,  "Till  now  all 
the  bailiffs  in  your  employ  have  kept  tavern,  and  it  is  a  common  practice  through- 
out the  country." 

But  Arner  answered  him  shortly,  and  said:  "You  have  heard  my  decision." 
He  then  took  out  his  almanac,  and  said  again,  "This  is  the  20th  of  March,  and 
in  a  fortnight  it  will  be  the  3d  of  April ;  therefore,  upon  the  3d  of  April,  I  ex- 
pect your  answer.  Till  then,  I  have  no  more  to  say."  Arner  then  marked 
down  the  day  in  his  almanac,  and  went  'into  the  house. 

CHAPTER  LVII. — HIS  CONDUCT  UPON  THE  OCCASION. 

ANXIOUS  and  troubled  at  heart,  the  bailiff  also  departed.  This  blow  had  so 
much  overcome  him,  that  be  took  no  notice  of  any  of  the  people  he  met  on  his 


LEOiNARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  QH 

\vay  down  the  steps,  and  through  the  avenue ;  and  he  scarcely  knew  where  he 
was,  till  he  came  to  the  old  nut-tree.  There  he  stopped,  and  said  to  himself, 
11 1  must  take  breath.  How  my  heart  beats !  I  don't  know  whether  I  stand 
on  my  head  or  my  feet.  "Without  making  a  single  complaint,  without  making 
any  inquiry,  merely  because  it  is  his  pleasure,  I  am  either  to  give  up  being 
bailiff,  or  landlord.  This  is  beyond  all  bounds.  Can  he  compel  me  to  it  ?  I 
think  not.  He  can  not  take  away  my  bailiff's  coat,  without  bringing  some 
charge  against  me ;  and  the  landlord's  license  is  paid  for.  But  if  he  should  try, 
if  he  should  seek  for  open  accusation,  he  may  find  as  much  as  he  will.  Of  all 
he  damned  fellows  I  have  served,  there  is  not  one  who  would  be  true  to  me. 
"What  must  I  do,  now!  A  fortnight  is  something,  however;  I  have  often  done 
great  deal  in  that  time.  If  I  can  only  keep  up  my  spirits !  The  mason  is  at 
the  bottom  of  all  this.  If  I  can  only  ruin  him,  it  will  be  every  thing.  I  can 
manage  all  the  rest.  But  how  very  faint  and  weak  I  am !  "  So  saying,  he  took 
a  brandy  bottle  out  of  his  pocket,  sat  down  in  the  shade  of  the  tree,  applied  to 
his  constant  remedy,  and  swallowed  down  one  draught  after  another.  A  thief 
or  a  murderer,  who  is  pursued  by  a  warrant,  is  not  more  refreshed  by  his  first 
draught  of  water  in  a  free  land,  than  the  bailiff's  rancorous  heart  was  encour- 
aged by  his  brandy  bottle.  He  felt  himself  better  again  immediately,  and,  with 
his  strength,  his  wicked  daring  also  revived.  "This  has  refreshed  me  greatly," 
said  he  to  himself.  And  he  got  up  again,  with  the  air  of  a  bold  man  who  bears 
himself  loftily.  UA  little  while  ago,"  said  he,  "I  thought  they  would  eat  me  up 
for  then*  supper,  but  now  I  feel  once  more  as  if  I  could  crush  the  mason,  a»(J 
•the  fine  young  squire  himself,  with  my  little  finger.  It  is  well  I  did  not  leave* 
my  bottle  behind  me.  I  am  a  sad  poor  creature  without  it." 

Thus  reasoned  the  bailiff  with  himself.     His  fears  had  now  entirely  given* 
place  to  anger,  pride,  and  his  brandy  bottle. 

He  walked  along  once  more,  as  insolently  and  as  full  of  malice  as  usual. 
He  nodded  to  the  people  in  the  fields,  who  saluted  him,  with  almost  his  wont- 
ed bailiff's  pride.  He  carried  his  knotted  stick  in  a  commanding  manner,  as  if 
he  were  of  more  importance  in  the  country  than  ten  Arners.  He  pursed  up  his 
mouth,  and  opened  his  eyes,  as  wide  and  round  as  a  plough-wheel,  as  they  say 
in  this  country.  Thus  did  the  blockhead  behave  at  a  time  when  he  had  so  little 
cause  for  it. 

CHAPTER  LVIII. — ms  COMPANION. 

BY  his  side  walked  his  great  Turk ;  a  dog  who,  at  a  word  from  the  bailiff, 
showed  his  great  white  teeth  and  snarled  at  every  body,  but  faithfully  followed 
is  master  through  life  and  death.     This  great  Turk  was  as  much  the  terror  of 
11  the  poor  folks  around,  as  his  master  was  of  ah1  his  oppressed  dependents  and 
debtors.     This  powerful  Turk  walked  majestically  by  the  side  of  the  bailiff- 
tut  I  dare  not  utter  what  is  at  my  tongue's  end,  only  it  is  certain  that  the  bail- 
iff, who  was  in  a  furious  rage,  had  something  in  the  expression  of  his  face  which 
reminded  one  very  much  of  the  dog. 

CHAPTER  LIX. — EXPLANATION  OF  A  DIFFICULTY. 

PERHAPS  some  sim^e  inquirer  may  wonder  how  the  bailiff,  after  yesterday's 
trouble,  and  his  fright  this  morning,  could  still  bear  himself  so  haughtily.  An 
experienced  man  will  see  the  reason  at  once.  J.'ride  never  torment-;  a  mun 
moro,  fian  when  he  is  under  a  cloud.  As  long  as  all  is  prosperous,  aud  no- 
body can  doubt  a  man's  greatness,  he  seldom  thinks  it  necessary  to  look  so  vei  r 


612  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

big.  But  when  on  all  sides  people  begin  to  rejoice  over  his  failures,  it  is  no 
longer  the  same  thing — then  the  blood  gets  heated,  foams,  and  runs  over  like  hot 
butter  in  a  kettle,  and  this  was  exactly  the  bailiff's  case.  Moreover,  it  was  very 
natural,  and  the  most  simple  may  understand  it,  that  after  he  had  recruited  him- 
self under  the  nut-tree,  he  should  be  able  to  conduct  himself  as  haughtily  as  1 
have  described.  Besides  this,  he  had  slept  better  than  usual  the  night  before, 
on  account  of  having  taken  his  two  powders,  and  drunk  little,  and  his  head, 
this  morning,  was  quite  cleared  from  the  uneasiness  and  anxiety  of  the  preced- 
ing day. 

CHAPTER  LX. — A  DIGRESSION. 

IT  would,  indeed,  have  been  better  for  the  bailiff  if  he  had  broken  his  brandy 
bottle  to  atoms,  under  the  nut-tree,  and  gone  back  to  his  master  to  explain  to 
him  his  situation,  and  to  tell  him  that  he  was  not  rich,  and  had  need  both  of 
his  office  of  bailiff,  and  of  his  tavern,  on  account  of  his  debts,  and  entreat  him 
to  show  compassion  and  mercy  toward  him.  I  am  sure  Arner  would  not  have 
driven  away  the  old  man,  if  he  had  acted  thus. 

But  such  is  always  the  ill  fate  of  the  ungodly.  Their  crimes  deprive  them  of 
their  reason,  and  they  become,  as  it  were,  blind  in  their  greatest  difficulties, 
and  act  like  madmen  in  their  distress ;  whilst,  on  the  contrary,  good  and  honest 
men,  who  have  pure  and  upright  lu-;uts,  kt-i-p  their  senses  much  better  in  their 
misfortunes,  and  therefore  generally  know  better  how  to  help  themselves,  and 
how  to  act  in  all  the  chances  of  life. 

They  bear  their  misfortunes  with  humility,  ask  forgiveness  for  their  faults,  and 
in  their  necessity  look  up  to  that  Power  who  always  lends  assistance  in  need,  to. 
those  who  seek  his  help  with  pure  hearts. 

The  peace  of  God,  which  passeth  all  understanding,  is  a  protection  and  polar 
star  to  them,  through  life,  and  they  always  so  pass  through  the  world,  as,  in  the 
end,  to  thank  God  from  their  hearts. 

But  the  wickedness  of  the  ungodly  man  leads  him  from  one  depth  to  another. 
He  never  uses  his  understanding  in  the  straight  paths  of  simplicity,  to  seek  for 
repose,  justice,  and  peace.  He  uses  it  only  in  the  crooked  way  of  wickedness, 
to  create  distress,  and  to  bring  about  disturbance.  Therefore  he  is  always  un- 
happy, and  in  his  necessity  becomes  insolent. 

He  denies  his  faults,  he  is  proud  in  his  distress.  He  seeks  to  help  and  save 
himself  either  by  hypocrisy  and  servility,  or  by  force  and  cunning. 

He  trusts  to  his  own  misled  and  disordered  understanding.  He  turns  away 
from  the  hand  of  his  father,  which  is  stretched  out  toward  him,  and  when  his 
voice  says :  "  Humble  thyself!  it  is  a  father's  hand  which  chastens  and  will  help 
thee,"  he  despises  the  voice  of  his  deliverer,  and  says:  "With  my  own  hand, 
and  with  my  own  head,  will  I  save  myself."  Therefore  the  end  of  the  ungodly 
man  is  always  utter  misery  and  woe. 

CHAPTER  LXI. — AN  OLD  MAN  LAYS  OPEN  HIS  HEART. 

I  HAVE  been  young,  and  now  am  old,  and  I  have  many  times,  and  often,  ob- 
served the  ways  of  the  pious,  and  of  the  ungodly.  I  have  seen  the  boys  of  the 
village  grow  up  with  me.  I  have  seen  them  become  men,  and  bring  up  chil- 
dren and  grand-children — and  now  have  I  accompanied  all  those  of  my  own  age, 
except  seven,  to  the  grave.  0  God !  thou  knowest  the  hour,  when  I  too  must 
follow  my  brethren !  My  strength  decays,  but  my  eyes  are  fixed  upon  the 
Lord!  Our  life  is  like  a  flower  of  the  field,  which  in  the  morning  springs  up, 


i.KONAIlU  AND  GERTRUDE.  gjg 

and  in  the  evening  withers  away.  0  Lord,  our  God !  thou  art  merciful  and 
-radons  toward  these  who  put  their  trust  in  thee — therefore  does  my  soul  hope 
inthee;  but  the  way  of  the  sinner  leads  to  destruction.  Children  of  my  vil- 
lage, 0  listen  to  instruction.  Hear  what  is  the  life  of  the  ungodly,  that  you 
may  become  holy.  I  have  seen  children  who  were  insolent  to  their  parents, 
and  heeded  not  their  affection.  All  of  them  came  to  a  bad  end.  I  knew  the 
father  of  the  wretched  Uli.  I  lived  under  the  same  roof  with  him ;  and  saw, 
with  my  own  eyes,  how  the  godless  son  tormented  and  insulted  his  poor  father. 
And  as  long  as  I  live,  I  shall  never  forget  how  the  old  man  wept  over  him,  au 
hour  before  his  death.  I  saw  the  wicked  boy  laugh  at  his  funeral !  Can  God 
suffer  such  a  wretch  to  live  ?  thought  I. 

What  followed?  He  married  a  woman  who  had  a  large  property,  and  he 
was  then  one  of  the  richest  men  of  the  village,  and  went  about,  in  his  pride 
and  in  his  wickedness,  as  if  there  were  none  in  heaven,  or  upon  earth,  above 
nun. 

A  year  passed  over,  and  then  I  saw  the  proud  Uli  sorrow  and  lament  at  his 
wife's  funeral.  He  was  obliged  to  give  back  her  property,  to  the  last  farthing, 
to  her  relations.  He  was  suddenly  become  as  poor  as  a  beggar,  and  in  his 
poverty  he  stole,  and  you  know  what  was  his  end.  Children,  thus  have  I  al- 
ways seen  that  the  end  of  the  ungodly  man  is  misery  and  woe. 

But  I  have  also  seen  the  manifold  blessings  and  comforts  in  the  quiet  cottages 
of  the  pious.  They  enjoy  whatever  they  have;  they  are  content  if  they  have 
little,  and  sober  if  they  have  much. 

Industry  is  in  their  hands,  and  peace  in  their  hearts — such  is  their  lot  in  life. 
They  enjoy  their  own  with  gladness,  and  covet  not  what  is  their  neighbors. 

Pride  never  torments  thnu,  envy  does  not  embitter  their  lives.  Therefore 
they  are  always  more  cheerful  and  contented,  and  generally  more  healthy,  than 
the  ungodly.  They  go  through  the  necessary  evils  of  life  more  safely  and  peace- 
fully ;  for  their  heads,  and  their  hearts,  are  not  turned  to  wickedness,  but  are 
with  their  work,  and  the  beloved  inmates  of  their  own  cottages.  Therefore  they 
enjoy  life.  Their  heavenly  Father  looks  down  upon  their  cares  and  anxieties, 
and  assists  them. 

Dear  children  of  my  native  village !  I  have  seen  many  pious  men  and  wo- 
men upon  their  death-beds,  and  I  have  never  heard  any — not  a  single  one, 
amongst  them  all — complain,  in  that  hour,  of  the  poverty  and  hardships  of  life. 
All,  without  exception,  thanked  God  for  the  thousand  proofs  of  his  paternal 
goodness,  which  they  had  enjoyed  through  life. 

0  my  children !  be  then  pious,  and  remain  single-hearted  and  innocent.  I 
have  seen  the  consequences  of  sly  and  cunning  habits. 

Hummel  and  his  associates  were  much  more  crafty  than  the  rest.  They  knew 
a  thousand  tricks,  of  which  the  others  never  dreamed.  This  made  them  proud, 
and  they  thought  that  sincere  men  were  only  to  be  their  fools.  For  a  time  they 
devoured  the  bread  of  the  widow  and  of  the  orphan — they  raged  and  were  furi- 
ous against  all  who  would  not  bow  down  the  knee  to  them.  But  their  end  is 
approaching.  The  Lord  in  heaven  heard  the  sighs  of  the  widow  and  of  the  or- 
phan, and  saw  the  tears  of  the  mother,  which  she  shed  with  her  children,  on 
account  of  the  wicked  men  who  led  away  and  oppressed  the  husband  and  the 
father ;  and  the  Lord  in  heaven  helped  the  oppressed  ones  and  the  orphansr 
when  they  had  given  up  all  hope  of  recovering  their  rights. 


614  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

CHAPTER  LXII. — TIIE  HORRORS  OF  AN  UNEASY  CON.M -IKV -i:. 

ON  Saturday  evening,  when  Hans  Wust  left  the  bailiff  and  went  home,  tho 
pangs  of  perjury  tormented  him  still  more,  so  that  he  Jnvw  himself  upon  the 
ground  and  groaned  in  anguish. 

Thus  was  he  distracted  the  whole  night,  and  on  tie  following  sabbatli  he 
tore  bis  hair,  struck  his  breast  with  his  handa,  violently,  could  neither  eat  nor 
drink,  and  called  out:  "0,  0,  this  meadow  of  Rudi'sl  0,  0,  his  meadow,  his 
meadow  I  It  tortures  my  very  soul  1  0,  0,  r^atan  has  got  possession  of  me ! 
O,  woe  is  me !  Woe  to  my  miserable  soul  1 " 

Thus  he  wandered  about,  tormented  and  distracted  by  the  thoughts  of  his 
perjury,  and  groaned  in  the  bitter  agony  of  his  spirit. 

Worn  out  with  such  dreadful  sufferings,  he  at  length,  on  Sunday  evening,  fell 
asleep  for  a  time. 

In  the  morning  he  was  a  little  easier,  and  came  to  the  resolution  no  longer 
to  keep  his  sufferings  to  himself,  but  to  tell  all  to  the  pastor. 

He  took  his  Sunday  coat,  and  whatever  else  he  could  find,  and  fastened  all 
together  in  a  bundle,  that  he  might  borrow  upon  them  the  money  he  owed  the 
bailiff. 

He  then  took  up  the  bundle,  trembled,  went  to  the  pastor's  house,  stood  still, 
was  very  near  running  away  again,  stood  still  once  more,  threw  the  bundle  in 
at  the  door-way,  and  gestured  like  one  out  of  his  mind. 

CHAPTER  LXIII. — KINDNESS  AND  SYMPATHY  SAVE  A  WRETCHED  MAN  FROM  BE- 
COMING UTTERLY  DISTRACTED. 

THE  pastor  saw  him  in  this  situation,  went  to  him,  and  said:  "What  is  the 
matter,  Wust?  What  dost  thou  want  ?  Come  into  the  house,  if  thou  hast  any 
thing  to  say  to  me." 

Then  Wust  followed  the  pastor  into  his  room. 

And  the  pastor  was  as  kind  and  friendly  as  possible  to  Wust ;  for  he  saw  his 
confusion  and  distress,  and  had,  the  day  before,  heard  a  report  that  he  was  al- 
most in  despair  on  account  of  his  perjury. 

Wh»-n  Wust  saw  how  kind  and  friendly  the  pastor  was  toward  him,  he  re- 
covered himself  a  little,  by  degrees,  and  said : — 

"Honorable  Herr  Pastor  1  I  believe  I  have  sworn  a  false  oath,  and  am  almost 
in  despair  about  it.  I  can  not  bear  it  any  longer.  I  will  willingly  submit  to  all 
the  punishment  I  have  deserved,  if  I  may  only  again  hope  in  the  mercy  and 
goodness  of  God." 

CHAPTER  LXJV. — A  PASTOR'S  TREATMENT  OF  A  CASE  OF  CONM  II.M  i. 

TIIE  pastor  answered  :  "If  thou  art  truly  grieved  at  heart,  on  account  of  thy 
fault,  distrust  not  God's  mercy." 

Wust.  "  0  sir,  may  I,  may  I  ever,  in  this  my  crime,  hope  for  God's  mercy, 
that  he  will  forgive  me  my  sins  ?  " 

Pastor.  "If  God  has  brought  a  man  to  a  true  repentance  of  his  sins,  so  that 
he  earnestly  longs  and  si^rlis  after  pardon,  he  has  already  pointed  out  to  him  the 
way  to  forgiveness,  and  to  the  obtaining  of  all  spiritual  mercies.  Depend  upon 
this,  Wust !  and  if  thy  repentance  be  really  from  thy  neart,  doubt  not  that  it 
will  be  acceptable  in  the  sight  of  God." 

Wust.     "  But  can  I  know  that  it  is  acceptable  to  him  ?  " 

Pastor.     "  Thou  mayest  easily  know,  by  faithfully  examining  thyself,  whether 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 


615 


t  In-  really  sincere,  and  from  the  bottom  of  thy  heart;  and  if  it  be,  it  will  cer- 
tainly be  acceptable  to  God.  This  is  all  I  can  say.  But,  Wust !  if  any  one  has 
encroached  upon  -his  neighbor's  land,  and  repents  of  it,  he  goes,  without  his 
neighbor's  knowledge  or  request,  and,  quietly  and  of  his  own  accord,  restores 
the  land,  arid  gives  back  rather  more  than  less  than  what  he  had  taken  from 
him.  In  this  case,  we  can  not  but  be  convinced  that  his  repentance  is  sincere. 

"  But  if  he  does  not  restore  it,  or  only  part  of  it,  to  him — if  he  gives  it  back 
unfairly — if  he  is  only  anxious  not  to  be  brought  before  a  magistrate — if  it  is 
all  for  his  own  sake  and  not  for  the  sake,  of  his  neighbor  whom  he  has  injured 
— then  are  his  repentance  and  his  restoration  only  a  cloak  with  which  the  fool- 
ish man  cheats  himself.  "Wust  1  if  thou,  in  thy  heart,  seekest  for  nothing,  but 
to  amend  and  rectify  all  the  mischief  which  thy  wickedness  has  caused,  and  all 
the  trouble  which  it  has  occasioned,  and  to  obtain  the  forgiveness  of  God  and 
man  ;  if  thou  wishest  for  nothing  else,  and  wilt  willingly  do  and  suffer  any  thing, 
to  make  all  possible  amends  for  thy  fault ;  then  is  thy  repentance  certainly  sin- 
cere, and  there  is  no  doubt  that  it  will  be  acceptable  to  God." 

Wust.  "  0,  sir  I  I  will  most  willingly  do  and  suffer  any  thing  whatever,  upon 
God's  earth,  if  this  weight  may  only  be  removed  from  my  heart.  It  is  such  a 
•dreadful  torment  I  Wherever  I  go,  whatever  I  do,  I  tremble  under  this  sin." 

Pastor.  "  Fear  not !  Set  about,  the  business  with  sincerity  and  truth,  and 
thou  wilt  certainly  become  easier." 

Wust.     "  If  I  might  only  hope  for  that !  " 

Pastor.  KBe  not  afraid  !  Trust  in  God!  He  is  the  God  of  the  sinner  who 
flies  unto  him.  Only  do  all  thou  canst,  with  sincerity  and  uprightness.  The 
greatest  misfortune  which  has  happened,  in  consequence  of  thy  oath,  is  the  sit- 
uation of  poor  Rudi,  who,  owing  to  it,  has  fallen  into  grievous  distress ;  but  I 
hope  the  squire,  when  thou  tellest  him  the  whole  affair,  will  himself  take  care 
that  the  man  is  comforted  in  his  necessity." 

Wust.  "  It  is,  indeed,  poor  Rudi,  who  is  a  continual  weight  upon  my  heart. 
Does  your  reverence  think  the  squire  will  be  able  to  help  him  to  his  meadow 
again  ?  " 

Pastor.  "  I  don't  know  that.  The  bailiff  will  certainly  do  all  in  his  power 
to  throw  suspicion  upon  thy  present  testimony.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
squire  will  do  his  best,  to  help  the  unfortunate  man  to  get  his  own  again." 

Wust.     " 0,  if  he  can  only  accomplish  that!  " 

Pastor.  "I  wish  he  may,  with  all  my  heart!  and  I  hope  he  will — but,  what- 
ever may  happen  to  Rudi,  it  is  necessary  that,  for  thine  own  sake  and  for  thy 
!>••: of  mind,  thou  shouldst  tell  the  whole  truth  to  the  squire." 

Wust.     "  I  will  willingly  do  that,  your  reverence." 

Pastor.  "  It  is  the  right  way,  and  I  am  glad  that  thou  dost  it  so  willingly.  It 
will  bring  back  rest  and  peace  to  thy  heart.  But,  at  the  same  time,  this  acknowl- 
edgment will  bring  blame,  and  trouble,  and  imprisonment,  and  grievous  distress 
upon  thee." 

Wust.  "  0,  sir !  all  that  is  nothing  in  comparison  of  the  horrors  of  despair, 
«nd  the  fear  of  never  again  obtaining  the  forgiving  mercy  of  God." 

Pastor.  "Thou  seest  the  thing  so  properly  and  sensibly,  that  I  am  glad  at  heart 
on  thy  account.  Pray  unto  God,  who  has  given  thee  so  many  good  thoughts. 
and  so  much  strength' for  good  and  right  resolutions,  thaf  he  will  grant  thee  still 
further  favor.  Thou  art  now  in  an  excellent  way.  and  wilt,  with  God's  assist- 
ance, bear  with  patience  and  humility  whatever  may  await  thee — and,  what 


(Jig  LEONARD  AM)  UKRTRUDE. 

ever  happens  to  thee,  open  thy  heart  to  me.  I  will  certainly  never  forsake 
thee." 

Wust.     "  0,  sir !  how  kind,  how  tender  you  are  to  such  a  wicked  sinner ! '' 

Pastor.  "  God  himself  is  all  love  and  forbearance  in  his  dealings  with  us  poor 
mortals,  and  I  should  indeed  be  a  faithless  servant  to  him,  if  1  \s -ere  cruel,  and 
unfeeling,  and  severe  to  one  of  my  own  erring  brethren,  whatever  iniiilit  l»c  his 
situation." 

In  this  paternal  manner  did  the  pastor  talk  to  "Wust,  who  burst  into  tears,  and 
for  some  time  could  not  speak. 

The  pastor  also  remained  silent. 

Wust,  at  last,  began  again  and  said:  "Please  your  reverence,  I  have  one 
thing  more  to  say." 

Pastor.     "What  is  it?" 

Wust.  "  Since  this  affair,  I  have  owed  the  bailiff  eight  florins.  He  said,  the 
day  before  yesterday,  that  he  would  tear  the  note ;  but  I  will  not  receive  any 
thing  from  him.  I  will  pay  it  back  to  him." 

Pastor.  "Thou  art  right.  Thou  must  certainly  do  that,  and  before  thou 
speakest  to  Arner  upon  the  subject." 

Wust.  "I  have  brought  a  bundle  with  me.  It  is  my  Sunday  coat  and  some 
other  things,  which  together  are  well  worth  eight  florins.  I  must  borrow  this 
money,  and  I  thought  you  would  not  be  angry,  if  I  were  to  beg  you  to  lend  it 
me.  upon  this  pledge." 

Pastor.  "  I  never  take  security  from  any  body,  and  I  am  obliged  often  to  re- 
fuse such  requests,  sorry  as  I  may  be  to  do  so  ;  but  in  thy  case  I  will  not  refuse." 

Immediately  he  gave  him  the  money,  and  said :  "Take  it  directly  to  the  bail- 
iff, and  carry  thy  bundle  home  with  thee." 

CHAPTER  LXV. — THERE  is  OFTEN  A  DELICACY  IN  THE  POOREST  PEOPLE,  EVEN 

WHEN   THEY    ARE   RECEIVING    FAVORS   FOR   WHICH   THEY   HAVE    ASKED. 

WUST  trembled  when  he  received  the  money  from  the  pastor,  and  said :  "  But 
I  will  certainly  not  take  the  bundle  home,  your  reverence." 

"Well  then,  I  must  send  it  after  thee,  if  thou  wilt  not  take  it  thyself,"  said 
the  pastor,  smiling. 

Wust.  "  For  heaven's  sake,  sir,  keep  the  bundle ;  that  you  may  be  sure  of 
your  money." 

Pastor.  "  I  shall  be  sure  of  it  any  way,  Wustl  Don't  trouble  thyself  about 
that,  but  think  only  of  the  much  more  important  things  thou  hast  to  do.  I  will' 
write  to  the  squire  to-day,  and  thou  canst  take  the  letter  to  him  to-morrow." 

Wust.  I  thank  your  reverence.  But,  for  heaven's  sake,  keep  the  bundle.  I 
dare  not  take  the  money  else.  I  dare  not,  indeed !  " 

Pastor.  "  Say  no  more  about  it ;  but  go  directly  to  the  bailiff,  with  the  mon- 
ey, and  come  to  me  again  to-morrow,  at  nine  o'clock." 

Then  Wust  went,  relieved  and  comforted  in  his  mind,  from  the  pastor  to  the 
bailiff's  house ;  and,  as  he  was  not  at  home,  he  gave  the  money  to  his  wife.  She 
said  to  him :  "  Where  did  you  get  so  much  money  at  once,  Wust  ?  "  Downcast 
and  briefly,  Wust  answered :  "  I  have  managed  as  well  as  I  could.  God  be 
praised  that  you  have  it." 

The  bailiff's  wife  replied  :   "  We  never  troubled  you  for  it." 

Wust.  "I  know  that  well  enough,  but  it  was  no  better  for  me  on  that  ac- 
count." 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  Q  J  7 

Bailiff's  Wife.  "  You  speak  strangely,  Wust !  What  is  the  matter  with 
you  ?  All  seems  riot  right  with  you." 

Wust.     "You  will  soon  know  more :  but  count  the  money,  I  must  go." 
The  bailiff's  wife  counted  the  money,  and  said  it  was  right. 

Wust.     "  Well  then,  give  it  to  your  husband  properly.     Good-by." 

Wife.     "If  it  must  be  so,  good-by,  Wust." 

CHAPTER  LXVI. — A  FORESTER  -WHO  DOES  NOT  BELIEVE  IN  GHOSTS. 

THE  bailiff,  in  his  way  from  the  hall,  called  at  the  tavern  at  Hirzau,  and  sat 
there  drinking  and  talking  to  the  countrymen.  He  told  them  of  the  lawsuits  he 
luid  gained,  of  his  influence  over  the  late  squire  ;  how  he,  and  he  alone,  had  kept 
the  people  in  order  under  him ;  and  how  all  was  now  confusion. 

Then  he  gave  his  dog  as  much  dinner  as  a  hard-working  man  would  eat,  ex- 
cept the  wine ;  and  laughed  at  a  poor  fellow  who  sighed,  as  he  saw  the  good 
meat  and  drink  set  before  the  dog.  "  Thou  wouldst  be  glad  enough  to  take  it 
away  from  him,"  said  he  to  the  poor  man  ;  patted  the  dog,  and  talked,  and  drank, 
and  boasted  to  the  countrymen  till  evening. 

Then  came  the  old  forester  from  the  hall,  and,  as  he  went  by,  he  called  for  a 
glass  of  wine ;  and  the  bailiff,  who  was  never  willingly  alone  for  a  moment,  said 
to  him :  "We  will  go  home  together." 

"If  you  are  coming  now,"  said  the  forester ;  "I  must  follow  a  track." 

"This  moment,"  answered  the  bailiff;  asked  first  for  his  dog's  reckoning  and 
then  for  his  own,  paid  both,  gave  the  waiter  his  fee,  and  they  went  out  together. 

When  they  were  alone  on  the  road,  the  bailiff  asked  the  forester  if  it  were 
safe  to  go  through  the  woods  at  night,  on  account  of  spirits. 

Forester.     "Why  do  you  ask  ?  " 

Bailiff.     "  Only  because  I  wonder  how  it  is." 

Forester.  "  You  are  an  old  fool  then.  To  think  of  having  been  bailiff  thirty 
years,  and  asking  such  a  nonsensical  question.  You  should  be  ashamed  of  your- 
self." 

Bailiff.  "No,  by  G — !  About  ghosts  I  never  know  what  to  think,  whether 
to  believe  in  them  or  not.  And  yet  I  never  saw  any." 

Forester.  "  Come,  as  you  ask  so  honestly,  I  will  help  you  out  of  your  won- 
der— but  you  will  give  me  a  bottle  of  wine  for  my  information  ?  " 

Bailiff.     '*  I  will  gladly  give  you  two,  if  you  can  explain  it." 

Forester.  "  I  have  now  been  a  forester  forty  years,  and  was  brought  up  in  the 
woods,  by  my  father,  ever  since  I  was  a  boy  of  four  years  old.  He  was  always 
talking  to  the  countrymen,  in  taverns  and  at  drinking  bouts,  about  ghosts  and 
horrible  sights  he  saw  in  the  woods — but  he  was  only  playing  the  fool  with 
them.  He  went  on  very  differently  with  me — I  was  to  be  a  forester,  and  there- 
fore must  neither  believe  nor  fear  any  such  stuff.  Therefore  he  took  me  by 
night,  when  there  was  neither  moon  nor  stars,  when  it  was  very  stormy,  and 
on  festivals  and  holy  nights,  into  the  woods.  If  he  saw  a  fire,  or  an  appear- 
ance of  any  kind,  or  heard  a  noise,  I  was  obliged  to  run  toward  it  with  him, 
over  shrubs,  and  stumps,  and  holes,  and  ditches,  and  to  follow  him  over  all 
cross  roads,  after  the  noise  :  and  it  was  always  gypsies,  thieves,  or  beggars — and 
then  he  called  out,  with  his  terrible  voice  :  'Away  rogues ! '  and  though  there 
were  twenty  or  thirty  of  them,  they  always  made  off ;  and  often  left  pots,  and 
nans,  and  meat  behind  them,  so  that  it  was  laughable  to  behold.  Often  indeed 
+ho  noise  was  nothing  but  wild  animals,  which  sometimes  make  a  strange  sound 


LEONARD  AM)  GERTRUDE. 

and  decayed  old  trunks  of  trees  will  give  out  a  light,  and  have  an  appear; UK-H 
which  often  frightens  people,  who  dare  not  go  up  to  them ;  and  these  are  all  the 
ghosts  I  ever  in  my  life  saw  in  the  wood.  But  it  always  is,  and  will  be,  a  part 
of  my  business  to  make  my  neighbors  believe  that  it  is  well  filled  with  spirits 
and  devils :  for,  look  ye,  one  grows  old,  and  it  is  a  comfort,  on  a  dark  night,  not 
to  have  to  turn  out  after  the  rascals." 

CHAPTER  LXVII. — A  MAN  WHO  DESIRES  TO  REMOVE  A  LANDMARK,  AND  WOULD 
WILLINGLY  DISBELIEVE  IN  THE  EXISTENCE  OF  SPIRITS,  BUT  DARES  NOT. 

As  the  man  was  thus  speaking,  they  came  to  the  by-path,  through  which  the 
forester  went  into  the  wood,  and  the  bailiff,  who  was  now  left  alone,  reasoned 
thus  with  himself: — 

"  He  has  been  a  forester  now  for  forty  years,  and  has  never  seen  a  ghost,  and 
does  not  believe  in  them,  and  I  am  a  fool  and  believe  in  them,  and  dare  not  pass 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  in  the  wood,  to  dig  up  a  stone. 

"The  squire  takes  away  my  license  from  me,  like  a  thief  and  a  rogue,  and 
that  dog  of  a  stone  upon  the  hill  is  no  true  landmark :  I  will  never  believe  it  is ; 
and,  suppose  it  be,  has  he  a  better  right  to  ft  than  I  have  to  my  tavern? 

" To  take  a  man's  property  from  him  by  violence  in  this  way!  Who  but  the 
devil  could  put  such  a  thing  into  his  head  ?  And  since  he  does  not  spare  my 
house,  I  have  no  reason  to  spare  his  damned  flint-stone.  But  I  dare  not  touch 
it !  By  night  I  dare  not  go  to  the  place,  and  by  day  I  can  not  manage  it,  on 
account  of  the  high-road."  Thus  he  talked  to  himself,  and  came  to  Meyer's  hill, 
which  is  near  the  villa.uv. 

He  saw  the  mason  at  work  upon  the  great  flint  stones  which  lay  around,  for 
it  was  not  yet  six  o'clock,  and  he  was  vexed  in  his  soul  to  see  it. 

"  Every  thing  I  plan  and  contrive,  fails  me !  They  all  play  the  rogue  with 
me.  Must  I  now  go  quietly  past  this  damned  Joseph,  and  not  say  a  word  to 
Mm  ?  No,  I  can  not  do  it !  I  can  not  go  by  him,  without  a  word.  I  would 
rather  wait  here,  till  they  go  home." 

He  sat  down,  and  soon  afterward  got  up  again :  "I  can  not  bear  to  sit  here, 
looking  at  them.  I  will  go  to  the  other  side  of  the  hill.  0,  thou  damned  Jo- 
seph !  "  He  went  a  few  steps  back,  behind  the  hill,  and  sat  down  again. 

CHAPTER  LXVIII. — THE  SETTING  SUN  AND  A  POOR  LOST  WRETCH. 

THE  sun  was  now  setting,  and  its  last  be:ims  fell  upon  the  side  of  the  hill, 
where  he  sat.  The  field  around  him.  and  all  below  the  hill,  were  already  in 
deep  shade.  The  sun  set  in  majesty  and  beauty,  serenely  and  without  a  cloud  ; 
God's  sun ;  and  the  bailiff,  looking  back,  as  the  last  rays  fell  upon  him,  said  to 
himself,  "  It  is  going  down ;"  and  he  fixed  his  eyes  upon  it,  till  it  was  lost  behind 
the  hill. 

Now  all  was  in  shade,  and  night  came  on  rapidly.  Alas !  shade,  night,  and 
darkness  surround  his  heart !  No  sun  shines  there  I  Do  what  he  would,  the  bailiff 
could  not  escape  this  thought.  He  shuddered  and  gnashed  his  teeth — instead 
of  falling  down  in  prayer  to  the  Lord  of  heaven,  who  calls  forth  the  sun  again  in 
his  glory — instead  of  hoping  in  the  Lord,  who  saves  us  out  of  the  dust  and  out 
of  darkness,  he  gnashed  with  his  teeth  1  The  village  clock  at  that  moment 
struck  six,  and  the  mason  went  home  from  his  work.  The  bailiff  followed 
him. 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  619 

-CHAPTER  LXIX. — HOW  A  MAN  SHOULD  CONDUCT  HIMSELF  WHO  WOULD  PROSPER 
IN  THE  MANAGEMENT  OF  OTHERS. 

THE  mason  had,  during  this  first  afternoon  of  their  being  together,  gained  the 
good-will  of  most  of  the  laborers.  He  worked  the  whole  time  as  hard  as  they 
did — himself  lifted  the  heaviest  stones,  and  stood  in  the  mire,  or  in  the  water, 
where  it  was  necessary,  as  much  or  more  than  any  of  them.  As  they  were 
quite  inexperienced  in  such  labor,  he  showed  them,  kindly  and  patiently,  the 
best  way  of  doing  every  thing  to  advantage,  and  betrayed  no  impatience  even 
toward  the  most  awkward.  He  called  no  one  an  ox,  or  a  fool ;  though  he  had 
provocation  enough,  a  hundred  times  over.  This  patience  and  constant  atten- 
tion of  the  master,  and  his  zeal  in  working  himself,  caused  all  to  succeed  ex- 
tremely well. 

•CHAPTER  LXX. — A  MAN  WHO  is  A  ROGUE  AND  THIET  BEHAVES  HONORABLY,  AND 

THE    MASON'S   WIFE    SHOWS    HER    GOOD    SENSE. 

MICHEL,  as  being  one  of  the  stoutest  and  best  workmen,  was  by  the  master's 
side  the  whole  afternoon,  and  saw  with  what  kindness  and  goodness  he  behaved 
even  to  the  most  stupid;  and  Michel,  though  a  thief  and  a  rogue,  became  fond 
•of  Leonard,  on  account  of  his  fair  and  upright  conduct,  and  resolved  not  to  be 
the  cause  of  any  injury  to  this  good  and  honest  man. 

But  Kriecher  and  the  pious  Marx  Reuti  were  not  so  well  pleased,  that  he 
made  no  distinction  amongst  the  people,  but  behaved  well,  even  to  the  rogue 
Michel.  Lenk,  too,  shook  his  head  often,  and  said  to  himself:  "  He  is  but  a 
simpleton  1  If  he  had  taken  people  who  could  work,  like  me  and  my  brother,  he 
would  not  have  had  half  so  much  trouble."  But  the  greater  number,  whom  he 
had  kindly  and  patiently  instructed  in  the  work,  thanked  him  from  the  bottom 
of  their  hearts,  and  some  of  them  prayed  for  him  to  that  God,  who  rewards  and 
blesses  the  patience  and  kindness,  which  a  man  shows  toward  his  weaker 
brethren. 

Michel  could  no  longer  keep  to  himself  the  wicked  engagement  into  which 
he  had  entered  with  the  bailiff,  on  Saturday  evening,  and  said  to  the  master,  as 
they  returned:  "I  have  something  to  tell  you,  and  will  go  home  with  you." 

"Well!  come  then,"  said  Leonard. 

So  he  went  with  the  master  into  his  cottage,  and  told  him  how  the  bailiff,  on 
Saturday  evening,  had  bribed  him  to  treachery,  and  how  he  had  received  two 
•crowns  in  hand  for  it.  Leonard  started,  and  Gertrude  was  horror-struck,  at  this 
•account. 

"It  is  dreadful!  "  said  Leonard. 

"Dreadful,  indeed!"  said  Gertrude. 

"But  don't  let  it  distress  thee,  Gertrude,  I  beg  of  thee." 

"  Be  not  at  all  disturbed  about  it,  master,"  said  Michel,  "  I  will  not  lift  a  hand 
against  you,  depend  upon  that !  " 

Leonard.     "  I  thank  you,  Michel !  but  I  did  not  deserve  this  from  the  bailiff." 

Michel  "  He  is  a  devil  incarnate.  Hell  has  no  match  for  him,  when  he  is 
furious  and  seeks  for  revenge." 

Leon.     "  It  makes  one  shudder  to  think  of  it." 

Gertrude.     "  I  am  quite  bewildered  1  " 

Mich.     "  Don't  be  like  children  about  it ;  all  things  have  an  end." 

Ger.  and  Leon.     "Yes;  thanks  be  to  God." 


620  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

Mich.  "You  may  have  it  just,  your  own  way.  If  you  like,  I  will  let  tho 
bailiff  go  on  thinking  I  am  still  true  to  him,  and  to-morrow,  or  the  next  day, 
take  some  tools  from  the  building  and  carry  them  to  his  house.  Then  do  you 
go  quickly  to  Arner,  and  get  a  search  warrant  to  examine  all  houses,  and  begin 
with  the  bailiff's,  and  go  directly  into  the  further  room,  where  you  will  be  sure 
to  find  them ;  but  mind,  you  must  rush  in,  the  very  moment  you  have  shown 
the  warrant,  or  it  will  be  all  in  vain.  They  will  have  warning  and  get  the  things 
out  of  your  sight,  through  the  window,  or  under  the  bed-clothes — and,  if  you  are 
civil,  and  do  not  search  for  them,  you  will  be  in  a  fine  situation.  But,  indeed,  I 
almost  think  it  would  be  better  for  you  to  send  somebody  else ;  you  are  not  fit 
for  such  a  job." 

Leon.     "No,  Michel;  this  kind  of  work  certainly  will  not  suit  me." 
Mich.     "It  is  all  one.     I  will  find  somebody  to  manage  it  cleverly  for  you." 
Ger.     "  Michel !     I  think  we  should  thank  God,  that  we  have  escaped  from 
the  danger  which  threatened  us,  and  not  be  laying  a  snare  for  the  bailiff,  from 
revenge." 

Mich.  "He  deserves  what  he  will  get.  Never  trouble  your  head  about 
that." 

Ger.  "  It  is  not  our  business  to  judge  what  he  deserves,  or  does  not  deserve ; 
but  it  is  our  business  to  practice  no  revenge,  and  it  is  the  only  right  conduct  for 
us  to  pursue  in  this  case." 

Mich.  "I  must  confess  that  you  are  in  the  right,  Gertrude.  It  is  a  great 
blessing  to  be  able  so  to  govern  one's  self.  But  you  are  right.  He  will  meet 
with  his  reward,  and  it  is  best  to  keep  entirely  away  from  him,  and  have  nothing 
to  do  with  him.  And  so  I  will  directly  break  with  him,  and  take  him  back  his 
two  crowns.  But  just  now,  I  have  but  a  crown  and  a  half!  "  He  took  it  out  of 
his  pocket,  counted  it,  and  then  said :  "  I  don't  know  whether  to  take  him  the 
other  half  by  itselfj  or  wait  for  my  week's  wages  on  Saturday,  when  I  can  give 
it  him  altogether." 

Leon.  "  It  will  be  no  inconvenience  to  me  to  advance  you  the  half-crown 
now." 

Mich.  "  Well,  if  you  can  do  so,  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  have  done  with  the 
man  to-day.  I  will  take  it  to  him,  this  very  hour,  as  soon  as  I  get  it." 

"  Master !  since  yesterday's  sacrament,  it  has  been  heavy  at  my  heart,  that  I 
had  promised  him  to  do  such  wicked  things;    and,  in  the  evening,  came  your 
Jonas,  to  give  his  afternoon  bread  to  my  child,  and  that  made  me  repent  still 
more  of  behaving  so  ill  to  you.     I  never  knew  you  properly  before,  Leonard, 
and  I  have  never  had  much  to  do  with  you ;   but  to-day  I  saw  you  wishing  to- 
help  every  body  kindly  and  patiently,  and  I  thought  I  could  never  die  in  peace, 
if  I  were  to  reward  such  an  honest,  good  man  with  treachery.     (The  tears  came 
into  his  eyes.)     See,  now,  whether  I  am  in  earnest  or  not." 
Leon.     "Then  never  do  an  injury  to  any  man  again." 
Mich.     "With  God's  help,  I  will  follow  your  example." 
Ger.     "You  will  certainly  be  a  happier  man  if  you  do." 
Leon.     "  Do  you  wish  to  go  to  the  bailiff  this  evening  ?  " 
Mich.     "Yes,  if  lean." 

The  mason  gave  him  the  half-crown  and  said:  "Do  not  put  him  into  a  pas- 
sion." 

Ger.     "  And  don't  tell  him  that  we  know  any  thing  about  it." 

Mich.     "  I  will  be  as  short  as  I  can  ;  but  I  will  go  this  moment,  and  th«ni  it 


LEONARD  AND  (JKKTKUDK  g<2l 

'will    be    done  with.     Good-by,   Gertrude!      I    thank    you.  Leonard!     Good 
night." 

Leon.     "Good-by,  Michel."     He  went  away. 

CHAPTER  LXXI. — THE  CATASTROPHE  DRAWS  NEAR. 

WHEN  the  bailiff  arrived  at  home,  he  found  only  his  wife  in  the  house ;  and 
therefore  was  able,  at  last,  to  give  vent  to  all  the  rage  and  anger  which  had 
Jbeen  rising  in  him  throughout  the  day. 

At  the  hall,  at  Hirzau,  arid  in  the  fields,  it  was  a  different  thing.  A  man  like 
him  is  not  willing  to  lay  open  his  heart  to  others. 

It  will  be  said :  a  bailiff  who  should  do  so  would,  indeed,  be  as  simple  as  a 
shepherd's  lad ;  and  Hummel  was  never  accused  of  this.  He  could,  for  days 
together,  smother  his  rage,  envy,  hatred,  and  vexation,  and  keep  laughing,  and 
talking,  and  drinking ;  but  when  he  came  home,  and,  by  good  or  ill-luck,  found 
the  house  empty,  then  the  rage  which  he  had  before  concealed,  burst  forth 
fearfully. 

His  wife  was  crying  in  a  corner,  and  said :  "  For  heaven's  sake,  do  not  go  on 
in  this  way.  This  violence  of  thine  will  only  drive  Arner  still  further.  He 
will  not  rest  till  thou  art  quiet." 

"He  will  not  rest,  do  what  I  will!  He  will  never  rest,  till  he  has  ruined  me. 
He  is  a  rogue,  a  thief,  and  a  dog.  The  most  cursed  of  all  the  cursed,"  said  the 
man. 

Wife     "  Do  not  talk  in  such  a  shocking  way.     Thou  wilt  go  out  of  thy  rnmd." 

Bailiff.  "Have  I  not  cause?  Dost  thou  not  know  that  he  will  take  my 
license  or  my  bailiff's  coat  from  me  in  a  fortnight?  " 

Wife.  "  I  know  it ;  but,  for  heaven's  sake,  do  not  go  on  at  this  rate.  The 
whole  village  knows  it  already.  The  secretary  told  the  attorney,  who  has  pub- 
lished it  every  where.  I  did  not  know  it  till  tea-time  this  evening.  All  the 
people  were  laughing  and  talking  on  both  sides  of  the  street  about  it;  and  Mar- 
garet, who  was  at  tea  with  me,  took  me  aside,  and  told  me  the  bad  news.  And, 
besides  this,  Hans  "Wust  has  brought  back  the  eight  florins.  How  comes  he  by 
eight  florins  ?  Arner  must  be  at  the  bottom  of  it.  Alas !  a  storm  threatens  us 
on  every  side !  "  So  said  the  wife. 

The  bailiff  started,  as  if  he  had  felt  a  thunder-bolt,  at  the  words  "  Hans  Wust 
has  brought  back  the  eight  florins  1  "  He  stood  still  for  a  time,  staring  at  his 
wife,  with  open  mouth — and  then  said:  "Where  is  the  money? — where  are 
these  eight  florins  ?  " 

His  wife  set  the  money  on  the  table,  in  a  broken  ale-glass.  The  bailiff  fixed 
his  eyes  for  some  time  upon  it,  without  counting  it,  and  then  said :  "It  is  not 
.from  the  hall !  The  squire  never  pays  any  body  in  this  coin." 

Wife.     "  I  am  very  glad  it  is  not  from  the  hall." 

Bailiff.  "There  is  something  more  in  this.  Thou  shouldst  not  have  taken  it 
from  him." 

Wife.     "Why  not?" 

Bailiff.     "  I  could  have  got  to  know  from  whom  he  had  it." 

Wife.  "I  did  think  of  that;  but  he  would  not  wait;  and  I  do  not  think 
-thou  couldst  have  got  any  thing  out  of  him.  He  was  as  short  and  close  as 
.possible." 

Bailiff.  "All  comes  upon  me  at  once.  I  know  not  what  I  am  doing! — give 
me  something  to  drink !  "  She  set  it  before  him,  and  he  paced  up  and  down  the 


622  LEONARD  A.ND  GERTRUDE. 

room  in  a  frenzy — drank  and  talked  ,o  himself.  "  I  will  ruin  the  mason !  That 
is  the  first  thing  to  be  done — if  it  cost  me  a  hundred  crowns.  Michel  must 
ruin  him,  and  then  I  will  go  after  the  landmark."  Thus  he  spoke  ;  and,  at  that 
moment,  Michel  knocked  at  the  door.  The  bailiff  started  in  a  fright,  said: 
"Who  can  be  here  so  late  at  night  ?  "  and  went  to  look  through  the  window. 
"  Open  the  door,  bailiff,"  called  out  Michel. 

CHAPTER  LXXII. — HIS  LAST  HOPE  FORSAKES  THE  BAILIFF. 

"HE  comes  just  at  the  right  moment,"  said  the  bailiff,  as  he  opened  the  door. 
"  "Welcome,  Michel !  What  good  news  dost  thou  bring  ?  " 

Michel     "Not  much.     I  only  want  to  tell  you — " 

Bailiff.  "  Don't  talk  outside  the  door,  man.  I  shall  not  go  to  bed  for  some 
time.  Come  into  the  room." 

Mich.  "I  must  go  home  again.  I  only  want  to  tell  you,  that  I  have  changed 
my  mind  about  Saturday's  business." 

Bailiff.  "Ay,  by  G — !  that  would  be  complete!  No!  thou  must  not  change 
thy  mind.  If  it  is  not  enough,  I  will  give  thee  more — but  come  into  the  room. 
We  are  sure  to  agree  about  it." 

Mich.     "At  no  price,  bailiff.     There  are  your  two  crowns." 

Bailiff.  "  I  will  not  receive  them  from  thee,  Michel !  Don't  play  the  fool 
with  me.  It  can  not  hurt  thee  ;  and,  if  the  two  crowns  are  too  little,  come  into 
my  room." 

Mich.  "  I  will  not  listen  to  another  word  about  it,  bailiff.  There  is  your 
money." 

Bailiff.  "By  G — ,  I  will  not  receive  it  from  thee,  in  this  way.  I  have  sworn 
it,  so  come  into  the  room." 

Mich.  "Well,  I  can  do  that.  There;  now  I  am  in  the  room,  and  here  is 
your  money,"  said  he,  laying  it  upon  the  table;  "and  now  good-by,  bailiff  1  " 
and  therewith  he  turned  about,  and  away  he  went. 

CHAPTER  LXXIII. — HE  SETS  ABOUT  REMOVING  THE  LANDMARK. 

THE  bailiff  stood  for  a  while,  stock-still  and  speechless,  rolled  about  his  eyes, 
foamed  with  fury,  trembled,  stamped,  and  then  called  out :  "  Wife,  give  me  the 
brandy.  It  must  be  done.  I  will  go ! " 

Wife.     "  Whither  wilt  thou  go,  this  dark  night? 

Bailiff.     "  I  am  going — I  am  going  to  dig  up  the  stone — give  me  the  bottle.'' 

Wife.     "For  God's  sake,  do  not  attempt  it." 

Bailiff.     "  It  must  be  done ! — I  tell  thee  I  will  go." 

Wife.  "It  is  as  dark  as  pitch,  and  near  midnight;  and  this  week  before 
Easter,  the  devil  has  most  power." 

Bailiff.  "If  he  has  got  the  horse,  let  him  e'en  take  the  bridle  too.  Give  me 
the  bottle.  I  will  go." 

He  took  a  pickaxe,  a  shovel,  and  a  mattock,  upon  his  shoulder,  and  went,  in 
tne  darkness  of  the  night,  up  the  hill,  to  take  away  his  master's  landmark. 

Drunkenness,  and  revenge,  and  rage,  emboldened  him ;  but  when  he  saw  a 
piece  of  shining  wood,  or  heard  a  hare  rustling  along,  he  trembled,  stopped  for 
«  moment,  and  then  went  raging  on,  till  at  last  he  came  to  the  landmark — set  to 
*rork  directly,  and  hacked  and  shoveled  away,  with  all  his  might. 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

CHAPTER  LXXIV. — NIGHT  GREATLY  DECEIVES  DRUNKARDS  AND  ROGUES,  ESPE- 
CIALLY WHEN  THEY  ARE  IN  TROUBLE. 

SUDDENLY  a  noise  startled  him,  and,  looking  up,  he  saw  a  black  man  coming 
toward  him.  A  light  shone  about  the  man  in  the  dark  night,  and  fire  burned 
upon  his  head.  ''This  is  the  devil  incarnate!"  said  the  bailiff.  And  he  ran, 
away,  screaming  horribly,  and  leaving  behind  him  mattock,  pickaxe,  and  shovel 
with  his  hat  and  the  empty  brandy  bottle, 

It  was  Christopher,  the  poulterer  of  Arnheim,  who  had  been  buying  eggs  at 
Oberhofen,  Lunkofen,  Hirzau,  and  other  places,  and  was  now  on  his  way  home- 
ward. He  had  covered  his  basket  with  the  skin  of  a  black  goat,  and  had  hung 
a  lantern  from  it,  that  he  might  find  his  way  in  the  dark.  This  egg-carrier  knew 
the  voice  of  the  bailiff,  as  he  was  running  away ;  and,  as  he  suspected  that  he 
was  about  some  evil  deed,  he  grew  angry,  and  said  to  himself:  "I  will  give 
the  cursed  knave  his  due  for  once.  He  thinks  I  am  the  devil." 

Then  quickly  setting  down  his  basket,  he  took  up  the  mattock,  pickax,  and 
shovel,  and  his  own  iron-bound  walking-stick,  fastened  them  all  together,  drag- 
ged them  behind  him  over  the  stony  road,  so  that  they  rattled  fearfully,  and  ran 
after  the  bailiff,  crying  out,  with  a  hollow,  dismal  voice:  "Oh! — Ah — Uh! — 
Hummel !  Oh ! — Ah ! — Uh ! — thou  art  mine — sto — op ! — Hummel !  " 

The  poor  bailiff  ran  as  fast  as  he  could,  and  cried  out  pitifully,  as  he  ran : 
"Murder!  help!  watchman!  the  devil  is  catching  me !" 

And  the  poulterer  kept  shouting  after  him:  "Oh! — Ah! — Uh!  bai — liff — 
sto — op — bailiff!  thou  art — mine! — bailiff." 

CHAPTER  LXXV. — THE  VILLAGE  is  IN  AN  UPROAR. 

THE  watchman  in  the  village  heard  the  running  and  shouting  upon  the  hill, 
and  could  distinguish  every  word ;  but  he  was  afraid,  and  knocked  at  some 
neighbors'  windows. 

"Get  up,  neighbors!  "  said  he,  "and  hear  what  is  going  on  upon  the  hill.  It 
sounds  as  if  the  devil  had  got  hold  of  the  bailiff.  Hark  I  how  he  shouts  mur- 
der 1  and  help !  And  yet,  God  knows,  he  is  at  home  with  his  wife.  It  is  nol 
two  hours  since  I  saw  him  through  the  window." 

When  about  ten  of  them  were  assembled,  they  declared  they  would  go  alto- 
gether, with  torches,  and  well  armed,  toward  the  noise ;  but  that  they  would 
carry  with  them,  in  their  pockets,  new  bread,  a  testament,  and  psalter,  that  the 
devil  might  not  prevail  against  them. 

The  men  accordingly  went,  but  stopped  first  at  the  bailiff's  house,  to  see 
whether  he  were  at  home. 

The  bailiff's  wife  was  waiting  in  deadly  fear,  wondering  how  he  might  be  go- 
ing on  upon  the  hill,  and  when  she  heard  the  uproar  in  the  night,  and  that  men 
with  torches  were  knocking  at  the  door,  she  was  dreadfully  frightened,  and 
called  out :  "  Lord  Jesus !  what  do  you  want  ?  " 

"Tell  your  husband  to  come  to  us,"  said  the  men. 

"  He  is  not  at  home ;  but  do  tell  me  what  is  the  matter  ?  Why  are  you  here  ?  " 
said  the  woman. 

The  men  answered:  "It  is  a  bad  business  if  he  is  not  at  home.  Hark!  how 
he  is  crying  murder !  help !  as  if  the  devil  were  taking  him." 

The  wife  now  ran  out  with  the  men,  as  if  she  had  been  beside  herself. 

The  watchman  asked  her,  by  the  way :  "  What  the  devil  is  your  husband  do- 
ing now  upon  the  hill?  He  was  at  home  two  hours  ago." 


624  l..:ONAKi/    \:,!>  OERTRUDE. 

She  ans'.vt'ivil  him  nut  a  word,  but  screamed  terribly. 

And  the  bailiff's  dog  growled,  at  its  chain's  length. 

When  the  poulterer  saw  the  people  coining  to  help  the  bailiff,  and  heard  his 
•log  bark  so  fearfully,  he  turned  round,  and  went,  as  quickly  and  quietly  as  he 
iould,  up  the  hill  again  to  his  basket,  packed  up  his  booty,  and  pursued  his  way. 

Kunz,  however,  who,  with  the  bailiff's  wife,  was  a  few  steps  before  the  rest, 
saw  that  it  could  not  be  the  devil ;  and  taking  the  roaring  bailiff  rather  roughly 
by  the  arm,  said  to  him:  "What  is  the  matter?  why  dost  thou  go  on  in  this 
way  ?  " 

"  Oh — Oh — let  me  alone — 0 — devil !  let  me  alone !  "  said  the  bailiff,  who  in 
his  terror  could  neither  see  nor  hear. 

"Thou  fool,  I  am  Kunz,  thy  neighbor;  and  this  is  thy  wife,"  said  the  man. 

The  others  first  looked  very  carefully,  to  see  whether  the  devil  were  any  where 
about;  and  those  who  had  torches,  held  them  up  and  down,  to  examine  care- 
fully above  and  below,  and  on  every  side ;  and  each  man  put  his  hand  into  his 
pocket  to  feel  for  the  new  bread,  the  testament,  and  psalter. 

But  as  they  still  saw  nothing,  they  began  to  take  courage  by  degrees,  and 
some  grew  bold  enough  to  say  to  the  bailiff:  "Has  the  devil  scratched  thee 
with  his  claws,  or  trodden  thee  under  his  feet,  that  thou  art  bleeding  in  this 
manner?  " 

The  others  exclaimed:  "This  is  no  time  for  joking  I  we  all  heard  the  horrible 
voice." 

But  Kunz  said:  "I  suspect  that  a  poacher  or  a  woodman  has  tricked  the 
bailiff  and  all  of  us.  As  I  came  near  him,  the  noise  ceased,  and  a  man  ran  up 
the  hill  as  fast  as  he  could.  I  have  repented  ever  since,  that  I  did  not  run  after 
him ;  and  we  were  fools  for  not  bringing  the  bailiff's  dog  with  us." 

"  Thou  art  a  fool  thyself,  Kunz  1  That  was  certainly  no  man's  voice.  It  ran 
through  bone  and  marrow,  and  a  wagon  load  of  iron  does  not  rattle  over  the 
streets  as  it  rattled." 

"  I  will  not  contradict  you,  neighbors !  I  shuddered  as  I  heard  it.  But  yet 
I  shall  never  be  persuaded  that  I  did  not  hear  somebody  run  up  the  hill." 

"  Dost  thou  think  that  the  devil  can  not  run  so  that  one  may  hear  him  ?  "  said 
the  men. 

The  bailiff  heard  not  a  word  of  what  they  were  saying ;  and,  when  he  got 
home,  he  asked  the  men  to  stay  with  him  that  night,  and  they  willingly  remained 
in  the  tavern. 

CHAPTER  LXXVI. — THE  PASTOR  COMES  TO  THE  TAVERN. 

IN  the  mean  time,  the  nightly  uproar  had  roused  the  whole  village.  Even  m 
the  parsonage-house,  they  were  all  awake;  for  they  anticipated  some  evil  tidings. 

When  the  pastor  inquired  what  was  the  cause  of  the  noise,  he  heard  fearful 
accounts  of  the  horrible  adventure. 

And  the  pastor  thought  he  could,  perhaps,  turn  the  bailiff's  fright  (foolish  as 
its  cause  might  be,)  to  a  good  use. 

He  therefore  went  that  night  to  the  tavern. 

Quick  as  lightning,  vanished  the  wine  jug  as  he  entered. 

The  men  stood  up  and  said :  "  Welcome,  honorable  Herr  Pastor  I  " 

The  pastor  thanked  them,  and  said  to  the  neighbors :  "  It  is  a  credit  to  you 
to  be  so  ready  and  active  when  a  misfortune  happens.  But  will  you  now  leave 
me  alone  with  the  bailiff,  for  a  short  time  ?  " 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  g25 

•'  It  is  our  duty  to  do  as  your  reverence  pleases.     We  wish  you  good-night." 

Pastor.  "The  same  to  you,  neighbors!  but  I  must  also  beg  that  you  will  be 
careful  what  you  relate  about  this  business.  It  is  very  disagreeable  to  have 
made  a  great  noise  about  a  thing  which  afterward  proves  nothing  at  all,  or  some- 
thing very  different  from  what  was  expected.  So  far,  nobody  knows  any  thing 
about  what  has  happened ;  and  you  know,  neighbors,  night  is  very  deceitful." 

"  It  is  so,  your  reverence !  "  said  the  men,  as  they  left  the  room ;  "  and  a  great 
fool  he  always  is,  and  will  believe  nothing !  "  added  they,  when  they  were  out- 
side of  the  door. 

CHAPTER  LXXVII. — CARE  OP  SOULS. 

THE  pastor  began  at  once:  "Bailiff!  I  have  heard  that  something  has  hap- 
pened to  thee,  and  I  am  come  to  help  and  comfort  thee,  as  far  as  I  am  able. 
Tell  me  honestly  what  has  really  happened." 

Bailiff.     "I  am  a  poor  unfortunate  wretch,  and  Satan  tried  to  get  hold  of  me  " 

Pastor.     "How  so,  bailiff?  where  did  this  happen ?" 

Bailiff.     "  Upon  the  hill,  above." 

Pastor.     "Didst  thou  really  see  any  body?     Did  any  body  touch  thee?  " 

Bailiff.  "I  saw  him  as  he  ran  after  me.  He  was  a  great  black  man,  and 
had  fire  upon  his  head.  He  ran  after  me  to  the  bottom  of  the  hill." 

Pastor.     "  Why  does  thy  head  bleed?  " 

Bailiff.     "  I  fell  down  as  I  was  running." 

Pastor.     "  Then  nobody  laid  hold  of  thee  ?  " 

Bailiff.     "No!  but  I  saw  him  with  my  own  eyes." 

Pastor.  "  Well,  bailiff,  we  will  say  no  more  about  that.  I  can  not  under- 
stand how  it  really  was.  But  be  it  what  it  may,  it  makes  little  difference.  For, 
bailiff,  there  is  an  eternity  when,  without  any  doubt,  the  ungodly  will  fall  into 
his  hands ;  and  the  thoughts  of  this  eternity,  and  of  the  danger  of  falling  into 
liis  hands  after  thy  death,  must  make  thee  anxious  and  uneasy  in  thy  old  age, 
and  during  thy  life." 

Bailiff.  "0,  sir!  I  know  not  what  to  do  for  anxiety  and  uneasiness.  For 
heaven's  sake,  what  can  I  do,  what  must  I  do,  to  get  out  of  his  hands?  Am  I 
not  already  entirely  in  his  power  ?  " 

Pastor.  "Bailiff!  do  not  plague  thyself  with  idle  and  foolish  talking.  Thou 
hast  sense  and  understanding,  and  therefore  art  in  thine  own  power.  Do  what 
is  right,  and  what  thy  conscience  tells  thee  is  thy  duty  to  God  and  man,  and 
thou  wilt  soon  see  that  the  devil  has  no  power  over  thee." 

Bailiff.     "  0,  sir !  what  must  I  do  to  obtain  God's  mercy  ?  " 

Pastor.  "  Thou  must  sincerely  repent  of  thy  faults,  amend  thy  ways,  and 
give  back  thy  unrighteous  possessions." 

Bailiff.  "  People  say  I  am  rich,  your  reverence!  but  heaven  knows  I  am  not 
so." 

Pastor.  "That  makes  no  difference.  Thou  keepest  possession  of  Rudi's 
meadow  unjustly,  and  Wust  and  Keibacher  have  sworn  falsely.  I  know  it. 
and  I  will  not  rest  till  Rudi  has  got  his  own  again." 

Bailiff.     "0,  sir!  for  heaven's  sake,  have  compassion  upon  me." 

Pastor.  "The  best  compassion  any  one  can  show  thee,  is  this :  to  persuade 
thee  to  do  thy  duty  to  God  and  man." 

Bailiff.     "1  will  do  whatever  you  wish,  sir." 

Pastor.     "  Wilt  thou  give  Rudi  his  meadow  again? " 

40 


6*26  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

Bailiff.     ;'Tes,  I  will,  your  reverence!  " 

Pastor.     "  Dost  thou  also  acknowledge  that  thou  possessest  it  unlawfully  ? rv 

Bailiff".     "  I  can  not  deny  it — but  it  will  bring  me  to  beggary  if  I  lose  it." 

Pastor.  "  Bailiff  I  it  is  better  to  beg,  than  to  keep  unjust  possession  of  poor 
people's  property." 

The  bailiff  groaned. 

Pastor.     "  But  what  wert  thou  doing  upon  the  hill?  " 

Bailiff.  "For  heaven's  sake,  sir,  do  not  ask  me  that?  I  can  not,  I  dare  not 
tell  you.  Have  mercy  upon  me,  or  I  am  a  lost  man." 

Pastor.  "  I  will  not  urge  thee  to  confess  more  than  thou  desirest.  If  thou 
dost  it  willingly,  I  will  advise  thee  like  a  father ;  but  if  thou  wilt  not,  then  it 
is  thy  own  fault  if  I  can  not  give  thee  the  advice  which  is  perhaps  most  needful 
to  thee.  But  though  I  do  not  seek  to  inquire  after  what  thou  art  not  willing  to 
tell  me,  yet  I  can  not  see  what  thou  canst  gain  by  concealing  any  thing  from 
me." 

Bailiff.  "  But  will  you  never  repeat  what  I  say  to  you,  without  my  consent, 
whatever  it  may  be  ?  " 

Pastor.     "  I  certainly  will  not." 

Bailiff.  "  Then,  in  plain  truth,  I  will  tell  you.  I  wanted  to  remove  one  of 
the  squire's  landmarks." 

Pastor.  "Gracious  heaven!  and  why  wouldst  thou  injure  the  excellent 
squire  ?  " 

Bailiff.  "  Because  he  wants  to  take  away  from  me  either  my  tavern  or  my 
office  of  bailiff." 

Pastor.  "Thou  art  indeed  an  unhappy  creature,  bailiff!  And  he  was  so  far 
from  intending  any  unkindness  toward  thee,  that  he  would  have  given  thee  ai)' 
equivalent,  if  thou  hadst  freely  given  up  thy  office  of  bailiff." 

Bailiff.     " Can  that  be  true,  your  reverence?  " 

Pastor.  "Yes,  bailiff,  I  can  assure  thee  of  it  with  certainty;  for  I  had  it  from 
his  own  lips.  He  was  out  hunting  on  Saturday  afternoon,  and  I  met  him  on  the 
road  from  Reutihof,  where  I  had  been  to  see  the  old  woman,  and  there  he  told 
me  expressly  that  young  Meyer,  whom  he  wished  to  have  for  bailiff,  should 
give  thee  a  hundred  florins  yearly,  that  thou  mightest  have  no  reason  to  com- 
plain." 

Bailiff.  "0,  if  I  had  only  known  this  before,  your  reverence,  I  should  never 
have  come  to  this  misfortune." 

Pastor.  "It  is  our  duty  to  trust  in  God,  evea  when  we  can  not  see  how  his 
fatherly  mercy  will  show  itself;  and  we  should  hope  well  from  a  good  master  on 
earth,  even  when  we  can  not  see  how  he  means  to  manifest  his  kindness  toward 
us.  If  we  do  this,  we  shall  always  remain  true  and  faithful  to  him,  and,  in  all 
our  mischances,  find  his  heart  open  to  compassion  and  paternal  kindness  to- 
ward us." 

Bailiff. '  "  0,  what  an  unfortunate  man  I  am!  If.  I  had  only  known  half  of 
this  before !  " 

Pastor.  "We  can  not  alter  what  is  past!  But  what  wilt  thou  do  now, 
bailiff?  " 

Bailiff.  "  I  know  not  what  in  the  world  to  do !  To  confess  it,  would  endanger 
my  life.  What  does  your  reverence  think  ?  " 

Pastor.  "  I  repeat  what  I  told  thee  just  now.  I  do  not  wish  to  force  thee 
to  any  confession;  what  I  say  is  merely  in  the  way  of  advice;  but  it  is  my 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  g27 

opinion,  that  the  straight  way  never  turned  out  ill  to  any  body.  Arner  is  merci- 
ful, and  thou  art  guilty.  Do  as  thou  wilt,  but  I  would  leave  it  to  his  com- 
passion. I  see  clearly  that  it  is  a  very  difficult  step  to  take,  but  it  will  also  be 
very  difficult  to  hide  thy  fault  from  him,  if  thou  seekest  true  peace  and  satisfac- 
tion for  thy  heart." 

The  bailiff  groaned,  but  did  not  speak. 

The  pastor  proceeded :  "  Do  as  thou  wilt,  bailiff!  I  do  not  wish  to  urge  thee ; 
but  the  more  I  consider  it,  the  more  it  appears  to  me  that  it  will  be  the  wisest 
plan  to  leave  it  to  Arner's  compassion :  for  I  must  confess  to  thee,  I  do  not  see 
what  else  thou  canst  do.  The  squire  will  inquire  why  thou  wert  off  the  road 
so  late  at  night." 

Bailiff.  "Mercy  on  me!  what  a  thought  is  just  come  into  my  head.  I  have 
left  a  pickaxe,  shovel,  and  mattock,  and  I  know  not  what  besides,  by  the  land- 
mark, which  is  half  dug  up  already.  This  may  discover  it  all.  I  am  in  a 
dreadful  fright  about  the  pickaxe  and  mattock!  " 

Pastor.  "  If  thou  art  in  such  a  fright,  bailiff,  about  a  poor  pickaxe  and  mat- 
tock, which  may  be  easily  removed  before  daybreak,  think  what  hundreds  of 
such  chances  and  accidents  will  occur,  if  thou  concealest  it,  to  poison  all  the 
remainder  of  thy  life  with  uneasiness  arid  constant  bitter  anxiety.  Thou  wilt 
find  no  rest  for  thy  heart,  bailiff,  if  thou  dost  not  confess." 

Bailiff.  "  And  there  is  no  chance  of  my  obtaining  mercy  from  God,  without 
it?" 

Pastor.  "  Bailiff !  if  thou  thyself  thinkest  and  fearest  this,  and  yet  art  silent; 
against  the  voice  of  thy  conscience  and  thine  own  conviction,  how  is  it  possible^ 
that  this  conduct  can  be  pleasing  to  God,  or  restore  thee  to  his  favor?  " 

Bailiff.     "  And  is  there  no  other  remedy  ?  " 

Pastor..  "  God's  mercy  will  assist  thee,  if  thou  dost  what  thy  conscience  bids 
thee." 

Bailiff.     "  I  will  confess  it." 

The  moment  he  said  this,  the  pastor  prayed  thus,  in  his  presence. 

"All  praise,  and  thanksgiving,  and  adoration,  be  unto  thee  Almighty  Father  I 
Thou  didst  stretch  forth  thy  hand  toward  him,  and  the  work  of  thy  love  appeared 
to  him  anger  and  wrath !  But  it  has  touched  his  heart,  so  that  he  no  longer 
hardens  himself  against  the  voice  of  truth,  as  formerly.  0,  thou,  who  art  all 
mercy,  and  compassion,  and  loving-kindness,  graciously  accept  the  sacrifice  of 
his  confession,  and  remove  not  thy  hand  from  him.  Fulfill  the  work  of  thy 
compassion,  and  let  him  again  become  one  of  thy  favored  children  1  0,  heavenly 
Father,  the  life  of  man  upon  earth  is  erring  and  sinful,  but  thou  art  merciful  to- 
thy  frail  children,  and  forgivest  their  excesses  and  sins  when  they  amend. 

"All  praise  and  adoration  be  unto  thee,  Father  Almighty!  Thou  hast 
stretched  forth  thy  hand  toward  him,  that  he  might  turn  unto  thee.  Thou  wilt 
fulfil]  the  work  of  thy  compassion ;  and  he  will  find  thee,  and  praise  thy  name, 
and  acknowledge  thy  mercies  amongst  his  brethren." 

The  bailiff  was  now  thoroughly  moved.     Tears  fell  from  his  eyes. 

"  0,  sir,  I  will  confess  it,  and  do  whatever  is  right.  I  will  seek  rest  for  my 
soul,  and  God's  mercy." 

The  pastor  remained  some  time  longer  with  him,  comforting  him,  and  then 
went  home.  It  was  striking  five  as  he  arrived  at  his  own  house,  and  he  imme- 
diately wrote  to  Arner.  His  letter  yesterday  and  that  to-day  were  as 
follows : — 


628  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

CHAPTER  LXXVIII. — TWO  LETTERS  FROM  THE  PASTOR  TO  ARNER. 

FIRST  LETTER. 
"HIGH  AND  NOBLY  BORN,  GRACIOUS  SIR! 

"  THE  bearer  of  this,  Hans  Wust,  has  this  day  revealed  a  circumstance  to  me, 
which  is  of  such  a  nature,  that  I  could  not  do  otherwise  than  advise  him  to  con- 
fess it  to  you,  as  to  his  judge.  He  maintains,  on  his  conscience,  that  the  oath 
which  he  and  Keibacher  took  ten  years  ago,  about  the  affair  between  Rudi  and 
the  bailiff,  was  a  false  one.  It  is  a  distressing  story,  and  there  are  some  remark- 
able circumstances  belonging  to  it,  relating  to  the  conduct  of  the  late  secretary. 
and  of  the  unhappy  assistant  of  my  deceased  predecessor,  which  this  confession 
will  bring  to  light,  and  thereby  I  fear  give  rise  to  much  scandal.  But  I  thank 
God  that  the  poorest  of  all  my  many  poor  people,  the  long  oppressed  and  suffer- 
ing Rudi.  with  his  unhappy  family,  may,  by  means  of  this  confession,  again 
obtain  possession  of  what  belongs  to  them.  The  daily  increasing  wickedness 
of  the  bailiff,  and  his  daring  conduct,  which  he  now  no  longer  restrains  even  on 
sacred  days,  convince  me  that  the  time  of  his  humiliation  is  approaching.  For 
the  poor  unhappy  "Wust,  I  earnestly  and  humbly  entreat  your  compassion,  and 
all  the  favor  which  the  duty  of  justice  can  permit  your  benevolent  heart  to 
show  him. 

••  My  wife  desires  her  best  respects  to  your  lady,  and  my  children  their  grate- 
ful remembrances  to  your  daughters.  They  send  a  thousand  thanks  for  the 
bulbs,  with  which  they  have  enriched  our  little  garden.  They  will  be  most 
zealously  watched  over,  for  my  children  have  quite  a  passion  for  flowers. 

"  Permit  me,  high  and  nobly  bom,  gracious  sir,  with  the  sincerest  respect  and 
esteem,  to  subscribe  myself 

"Your  high  and  nobly  born  grace's 
"  Most  obedient  servant, 

"JOACHIM  ERNST." 

"Bonnal,  20lh  March,  1780." 

SECOND  LETTER. 
"HIGH   AND   NOBLY  BORN,    GRACIOUS   SIR! 

"SiNCE  yesterday  evening,  when  I  informed  you  (in  a  letter  now  lying  sealed 
beside  me,)  of  some  circumstances  relating  to  Hans  Wust,  an  all-seeing  Provi- 
dence has  strengthened  my  hopes  and  wishes  for  Rudi,  and  my  anticipations 
respecting  the  bailiff,  in  a  manner  which  I  can  not  yet  either  comprehend  or  ex- 
plain. Last  night  there  was  a  general  uproar  in  the  village,  so  violent  that  I 
apprehended  some  misfortune,  and,  upon  inquiring,  was  told  that  the  devil 
wanted  to  seize  the  bailiff'.  He  screamed  pitifully,  on  the  hill,  for  assistance,  and 
all  the  people  heard  the  horrible  rattling  noise  of  the  pursuing  devil.  I  could 
not  help  laughing  heartily  at  this  intelligence ;  but  many  more  people  came  in, 
who  confirmed  the  fearful  story,  and  at  last  told  me  that  the  bailiff  was  now  re- 
turned home  again,  with  the  men  who  had  gone  to  help  him ;  but  that  he  had 
been  so  dreadfully  dragged  about  and  injured  by  his  terrible  enemy,  that  it  was 
not  likely  he  would  recover. 

"This  was  a  business  quite  out  of  my  line — but  what  was  to  be  done?  We 
must  make  the  best  of  the  world  as  it  is,  since  we  can  not  alter  it.  I  thought 
that  whatever  this  affair  might  be,  the  bailiff  was  probably  in  a  state  to  be 
worked  upon,  and  that  I  ought  not  to  lose  the  opportunity ;  so  I  went  immediately 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

to  his  house.  I  found  him  in  a  pitiful  condition.  He  was  firmly  persuaded  that 
the  devil  had  really  been  in  pursuit  of  him.  I  made  a  few  inquiries,  in  hopes  of 
getting  a  clue  to  the  business,  but  could  make  nothing  out.  The  only  thing 
certain  is.  that  nobody  has  touched  him,  and  that  the  wound  on  his  head,  which 
is  but  trifling,  was  caused  by  a  fall.  Moreover,  as  soon  as  the  people  approached, 
the  devil  ceased  his  rattling  and  roaring — but  it  is  time  to  come  to  the  most  im- 
portant part  of  the  story. 

"  The  bailiff  was  humbled,  and  confessed  to  me  two  shocking  deeds,  which  he 
freely  permitted  me  to  communicate  to  your  grace.  First,  that  what  Hans  Wust 
had  told  me  yesterday  was  true — namely,  that  he  had  deceived  your  late  grand- 
father about  Rudi,  and  obtained  possession  of  the  meadow  unjustly.  Secondly, 
that  this  night  he  intended  to  remove  one  of  your  grace's  landmarks,  and  was 
busy  at  the  work  when  the  fearful  accident  happened  to  him. 

"  I  humbly  entreat  your  compassion  and  forbearance  toward  this  unhappy 
man  also,  who  appears.  God  be  praised  for  it,  to  be  brought  to  repentance  and 
submission.  As  the  circumstances  are  changed  since  yesterday,  I  will  not  send 
Hans  Wust  with  his  letter,  but  Wilhelm  Abi  shall  deliver  them  both.  I  wait 
your  further  commands  about  them,  and  remain 
••  With  true  regard, 

"  Your  high  and  nobly  born  grace's 
"  Most  obedient  servant, 

"Bonnal,  list  March,  1780."  "JOACHIM  ERNST." 

CHAPTER  LXXIX. — THE  POULTERER'S  INFORMATION. 

WILHELM  ABI  set  out  for  Arnburg  with  the  letters,  but  Christopher,  the 
poulterer,  was  at  the  hall  before  him,  and  told  the  squire  the  whole  of  what  had 
happened,  from  beginning  to  end. 

The  squire,  as  he  sat  in  his  arm-chair,  laughed  until  he  had  to  hold  his  sides, 
at  the  account  of  the  bailiffs  fright,  and  of  the  fearful  Oh!— Ah!— Uh!  of  the 
poulterer. 

His  wife  Theresa,  who  was  in  the  next  room,  heard  the  bursts  of  laughter  and 
the  poulterer's  exclamations,  and  called  out:  "Charles,  what  is  the  matter? 
Come  and  tell  me  what  it  is  all  about!  " 

Theo  the  squire  said  to  the  poulterer :  "My  wife  wants  to  hear  how  you  per- 
form the  devil :  come  in." 

And  he  took  the  poulterer  into  his  wife's  room. 

The  man  there  repeated  his  tale — how  he  had  driven  the  bailiff  down  into  the 
field — how  the  neighbors  had  come  out  by  dozens,  with  spits,  and  cudgels,  and 
torches,  to  the  poor  bailiff's  help — and  how  he  had  then  crept  up  the  hill  again. 

The  squire  and  his  lady  were  much  diverted,  and  the. squire  gave  the  poulterer 
some  glasses  of  good  wine,  and  bade  him  tell  nobody  a  single  word  of  the 
affair. 

In  the  mean  time  Wilhelm  Abi  arrived,  with  the  pastor's  letters. 

Arner  read  them,  and  was  the  most  touched  by  Hans  Wust's  story. 

The  negligence  of  his  grandfather,  and  the  misery  of  Rudi,  deeply  grieved 
him ;  but  the  pastor's  judicious  conduct  rejoiced  his  heart.  He  gave  the  letters 
to  Theresa,  and  said :  "My  pastor  in  Bonnal  is  a  most  excellent  man.  Nobody 
could  have  acted  more  kindly  and  prudently." 

Theresa  read  the  letters,  and  said :  "  This  is  a  sad  business  about  Wust !  You 
must  help  Rudi  to  recover  his  property  without  delay ;  and,  if  the  bailiff  refuses 


(J30  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

to  give  up  the  meadow,  throw  him  into  prison.  He  is  a  wretch  who  must  not 
be  spared." 

"I  will  have  him  hanged,  to  a  certainty!  "  answered  Arner. 

"0,  no !  you  will  not  put  any  body  to  death !  "  replied  Theresa. 

"  Do  you  think  not,  Theresa  ?  "  said  Arner  laughing. 

"Yes,  Charles!  I  am  sure  of  it!  "  said  Theresa,  affectionately  kissing  him. 

"You  would  not  "kiss  me  any  more,  I  suspect,  if  I  were  to  do  so,  Theresa,'' 
said  Arner. 

"  No.  indeed !  "  said  Theresa,  smiling. 

Arner  then  went  into  his  own  room,  and  answered  the  pastor's  letters. 

CHAPTER  LXXX. — THE  SQUIRE'S  ANSWER  TO  THE  PASTOR. 
'•DEAR  AXD  REVEREND  SIR, 

"  An  hour  before  I  received  your  letters,  I  had  heard  the  story  from  the  very 
devil  who  chased  the  bailiff  down  the  hill ;  and  who  was  no  other  than  your  old 
acquaintance,  Christopher,  the  poulterer.  I  will  give  you  an  account  of  the 
whole  affair,  which  was  very  laughable,  to-day ;  for  I  am  coming  to  the  village, 
where  I  will  hold  a  parish-meeting  about  the  landmark.  I  mean  at  the  same 
time  to  have  a  comedy  with  the  people,  about  their  belief  in  ghosts ;  and  you, 
my  dear  sir,  must  be  present  at  this  play.  I  think  you  have  not  been  at  many, 
or  you  would  not  be  so  shy.  and  perhaps  not  so  truly  good  an.d  contented  a 
man. 

"  I  beg  your  acceptance  of  some  of  my  best  wine,  with  my  heartfelt  thanks 
for  the  upright  and  excellent  assistance  you  have  given  me,  in  making  amends 
for  my  grandfather's  failings. 

"  We  will  this  afternoon  drink  some  of  it  to  his  memory.  Believe  me,  he 
was  a  good  man  at  heart,  though  rogues  too  often  abused  his  kindness  and  con- 
fidence. I  thank  you,  my  dear  sir,  for  the  pains  and  care  you  have  taken 
about  Hubel  Rudi.  I  will  certainly  assist  him.  This  very  day  he  must  be  in 
charity  with  my  dear  grandfather,  and  I  trust  he  will  never  again  hi  n  in  it 
over  the  recollection  of  him.  I  am  grieved  at  heart,  that  he  has  suH'cn-il 
so  much,  and  I  will  do  my  best,  in  any  way  I  can,  to  comfort  him  for 
his  past  distress,  by  future  ease  and  happiness.  "We  are  certainly  bound 
to  make  good  the  failings  of  our  parents  wherever  it  is  in  our  power.  0.  un- 
clear sir,  it  is  a  sad  mistake,  to  say  that  a  judge  is  never  answerable,  nor  oblige  I 
to  make  reparation.  How  little  is  he  acquainted  with  mankind,  who  d  cs  IK  t 
see  that  all  judges  are  bound,  at  the  risk  of  their  property,  continually  t<>  rouse 
and  exert  all  their  powers,  not  only  to  be  honorable,  but  to  be  careful  ;m<l 
watchful.  But  I  am  going  from  the  purpose. 

"  My  wife  and  children  desire  me  to  give  their  kind  regards  to  your  family,  and 
send  your  daughters  another  box  of  flower-roots.  Farewell,  my  dear  sir !  and 
do  not  trouble  yourself  to  get  all  the  rooms  into  such  order,  and  to  provide  so 
many  good  things,  as  if  I  were  coming  from  pure  hunger.  If  you  do,  I  will  not 
visit  you  any  more,  dear  as  you  are  to  me. 

"  Once  more  accept  my  best  thanks,  and  believe  me  ever 

"  Your  faithful  and  affectionate  friend, 

"CHARLES  ARNER  VON  ARNHEIM." 

"Arriburg,  2lst  March,  1780." 

"  P.  S.  My  wife  has  just  told  me  that  she  wishes  to  be  present  at  the  comedy 
of  the  poulterer,  so  we  shall  pour  down  upon  you,  with  all  the  children,  in  the 
family  coach." 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  631 

CHAPTER  LXXXI. — A  GOOD  COW-MAN. 

WHEN*  Arner  had  dismissed  Wilhelm,  he  went  into  his  cow-house,  and,  from 
amongst  his  fifty  cows,  he  chose  out  one  for  Hubel  Rudi,  and  said  to  his  cow- 
man: "Feed  this  cow  well,  and  tell  the  boy  to  drive  it  to  Bonnal,  and  put  it  up 
in  the  pastor's  cow-house,  till  I  come." 

The  cow-man  replied :  "  Sir !  I  must  obey  your  orders ;  but  there  is  not  one 
amongst  the  fifty,  I  would  not  rather  part  with.  She  is  such  a  fine,  young, 
handsome  cow;  and  just  at  her  best  time  for  milking." 

"It  is  to  your  credit,  cow-man,  to  be  so  sorry  to  lose  the  good  cow;  but  I  am 
glad  I  chose  it,  I  was  looking  for  the  best.  She  is  going  to  belong  to  a  poor 
man,  cow-man,  so  don't  grieve  over  her.  She  will  be  a  treasure  to  him." 
v  Cow-man.  "  0,  sir,  it  is  a  sad  pity  to  send  her.  She  will  fall  off  so  in  a  poor 
man's  hands,  grow  so  thin,  and  lose  her  looks.  0,  sir,  if  I  find  he  starves  her, 
I  shall  be  running  off'  to  Bonnal  every  day,  with  all  my  pockets  full  of  bread  and 
salt  for  her." 

Squire.  "  Thou  art  a  good  fellow ;  but  the  man  has  an  excellent  meadow  of 
his  own,  and  plenty  of  food  for  her." 

Cow-man.     "  Well,  if  she  must  go,  I  do  hope  she  will  be  well  treated." 

Squire.     "  Depend  upon  it,  she  will  want  for  nothing,  cow-man." 

The  man  fed  "the  cow,  and  sighed  to  himself,  because  his  master  had  chosen 
the  best  of  all  his  set,  to  give  away.  He  gave  his  favorite  Spot  his  own  bread 
and  salt  from  breakfast,  and  then  said  to  the  boy :  "  Put  on  thy  Sunday  coat 
and  a  clean  shirt,  brush  thy  shoes,  and  make  thyself  neat;  tliou  must  drive  Spot 
to  Bonnal." 

And  the  boy  aid  as  the  cow-man  bade  him,  and  drove  away  the  cow. 

Arner  stood  still  for  a  while,  earnestly  considering  what  he  should  decide 
about  the  bailiff. 

As  a  father,  when  he  restrains  his  wild  untoward  boys,  seeks  only  the  welfare 
of  his  children — as  a  father  grieves  at  the  punishment  he  is  obliged  to  inflict, 
and  would  gladly  exchange  it  for  forgiveness  and  approbation — as  he  shows  his 
sorrow  in  punishing,  and  touches  his  children's  hearts  still  more  by  his  tender 
regret  than  by  the  chastisement — so,  thought  Arner,  must  I  punish,  if  I  would 
perform  my  duty  as  judge,  in  the  spirit  of  a  father  to  my  dependants. 

With  these  feelings  he  formed  his  decisions  about  the  bailiff. 

In  the  mean  time  his  wife  and  her  maidens  had  hastened  dinner,  that  it 
might  be  over  sooner  than  usual. 

CHAPTER  LXXXII.— A  COACHMAN  WHO  LOVES  HIS  MASTER'S  SON. 

AND  little  Charles,  who  had  already  been  more  than  a  dozen  times  to  the 
coachman,  to  desire  him  to  make  haste  and  get  the  coach  ready,  ran  again  to  the 
stables  and  called  out:  "We  have  done  dinner,  Francis!  Put  to.  and  drive 
round  to  the  door,  directly." 

"  You  are  mistaken,  young  master ;  I  heard  the  dinner-bell  ring  just  now." 

Charles.  "How  dare  you  say  I  am  mistaken?  I  will  not  bear  that,  old 
moustache ! " 

Francis.  "  Hold,  my  boy !  I  will  teach  you  to  call  me  moustache !  I  will 
plait  the  horses'  tails  and  manes,  and  put  on  the  ribands  and  the  rosettes,  and 
that  will  take  me  an  hour — and,  if  you  say  another  word,  I  will  tell  your  papa 
that  Herod  is  ill — See  -how  he  shakes  his  head!  And  t"ien  he  will  leave  the 


632  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

black  horses  in  the  stable  and  take  the  little  carriage,  and  you  can  not  go  with 
him." 

Charles.  "No,  no,  Francis!  Stop — don't  begin  to  plait  their  manes.  I  love 
you,  Francis!  and  will  not  call  you  moustache  any  more." 

Francis.  "You  must  give  me  a  kiss  then,  Charles,  in  my  beard;  or  I  will 
take  the  ribands  and  plait  them." 

Charles.     "No,  don't  do  so,  pray." 

•\Yliy  did  you  call  me  moustache?     You  must  kiss  me,  or  I  will 
not  drive  the  Murk  horses." 

Charles.  -  Well,  then,  if  I  must!  But  you  will  get  the  coach  ready  very  soon 
then." 

Francis  put  down  the  curry-comb,  lifted  up  the  boy,  who  kissed  him;  said: 
"There's  a  good  little  fellow!  " — put  tlie  horses  to  the  coach,  and  drove  quickly 
round  to  the  hall-door. 

Arner  was  sitting  with  his  wife  and  children,  and  Charles  begged  his  papa  to 
let  him  ride  upon  the  coach-box  with  Francis.  "It  is  so  hot  and  crowded 
inside." 

"With  all  my  heart,"  said  Arner;  and  called  out  to  Francis:  "Take  good 
care  of  him." 

CHAPTER  LXXXIM. — THE  SQUIRE  WITH  HIS  WORKMEN. 

AND  Francis  drove  his  spirited  horses  fast,  and  was  soon  on  the  plain  near 
Bonnal,  where  the  men  were  breaking  stones. 

Then  Arner  got  out  of  the  coach,  to  look  at  their  work,  and  he  found  all  the 
men  in  their  right  places. 

They  had  got  on  with  their  work  very  well  for  the  time. 

And  Arner  praised  the  regularity  and  good  appearance  of  the  work,  in  a 
manner  which  convinced  the  dullest  amongst  them,  that  the  slightest  irregularity 
or  neglect  would  not  have  escaped  him. 

Leonard  was  very  glad  of  this,  for  he  thought  within  himself,  now  they  will 
all  see  that  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  allow  any  carelessness  or  neglect. 

Arner  asked  the  master  which  was  IJubel  Rudi;  and,  at  the  moment  Leon- 
ard pointed  him  out,  poor  Rudi,  who  was  pale  and  evidently  very  weak,  was 
raising  a  very  heavy  stone  with  his  iron  crow.  Arner  called  out  immediately : 
"Do  not  overwork  yourselves,  my  good  fellows;  and  take  care  not  to  do  your- 
selves an  injury."  Then  he  ordered  the  master  to  give  them  each  a  glass  of 
wine,  and  went  toward  Bonnal. 

CHAFFER  LXXXIV. — A  SQUIRE  AND  A  PASTOR,  WHO  HAVE  EQUALLY  KIND  HEARTS. 

HE  soon  saw  the  good  pastor  coming  to  meet  him,  and  the  squire  ran  quickly 
toward  him,  and  called  out :  "  You  should  not  have  troubled  yourself  to  come 
out  such  weather  as  this?  It  is  not  right,  with  your  delicate  health;  "  and  he 
then  went  into  the  house  with  him. 

There  he  told  him  the  whole  history  of  the  poulterer,  and  then  said:  "I  have 
some  business  to  transact,  but  will  be  quick  about  it,  that  we  may  enjoy  a  couple 
of  hours  quietly  together." 

He  sent  immediately  for  young  Meyer,  and  said  to  the  pastor:  "The  first 
step  shall  be  to  seal  up  all  the  bailiff's  accounts  and  books  of  reckoning;  for  I 
am  resolved  to  know  who  are  concerned  with  him,  and  he  shall  settle  with  them, 
all,  in  my  presence." 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  533 

l'»xtor.  "By  doin^r  this,  you  \vill  get  to  know  a  great  deal  about  the  people- 
>f  the  village." 

Squire.  "  And,  as  I  hope,  find  out  the  way  to  put  an  end  to  a  great  deal  of 
domestic  unhappiness;  if  I  can  by  this  means  make  it  clear  and  erident  to  every 
man  how  irrevocably  people  ruin  themselves  when  they  get  ever  so  little  into 
tl» 'lit  to  such  grasping  men  as  the  bailiff.  In  my  opinion,  my  gx)d  friend,  the 
la\vs  do  too  little  against  this  ruinous  practice." 

Pastor.  "  No  law  can  do  so  much  to  counteract  it,  as  the  paternal  kindness 
of  the  lord  of  a  manor." 

CHAPTER  LXXXV. — THE  SQUIRE'S  FEELINGS  TOWARD  HIS  GUILTY  BAILIFF. 

A  s  they  were  speaking,  young  Meyer  arrived,  and  Arner  said  to  him :  "  Meyer, 
I  mean  to  dismiss  my  bailiff;  but,  notwithstanding  his  offenses,  some  circum- 
stances lead  me  to  wish  him  to  receive,  for  life,  a  part  of  the  emolument  of  his 
office.  You  are  well  off  in  the  world,  Meyer!  and  I  think,  if  I  were  to  make 
you  bailiff,  you  would  willingly  allow  the  old  man  a  hundred  florins  yearly,  out 
of  your  salary." 

Meyer.  '•  If  your  honor  thinks  me  equal  to  the  situation,  I  shall  wish  in  this, 
as  to  every  other  respect,  to  do  according  to  your  pleasure." 

Arner.  "  Well  then,  Meyer,  come  to  me  to  Arnburg  to-morrow,  and  I  will 
arrange  this  business.  For  the  present,  I  will  only  tell  you  that  you  must  take 
my  secretary  and  Abi,  who  is  a  qualified  man,  with  you,  and  seal  up  all  Hum- 
mel's  writings  and  accounts.  You  must  carefully  see  after  it,  that  not  one  of 
his  papers  or  accounts  be  secreted." 

Immediately  young  Meyer  and  the  squire's  secretary  took  Abi  with  them,  and 
sealed  up  the  bailiff's  papers.  His  wife  went  with  a  wet  sponge  toward  the 
chalked  board ;  but  Meyer  saw  her,  and  hindered  her  from  touching  it,  and  had 
a  copy  of  it  taken  immediately. 

And  Meyer,  the  secretary,  and  Abi,  wondered  to  see  on  the  board :  "On 
Saturday,  18th,  to  Joseph,  Leonard's  man,  three  crowns."  "  What  was  this  for  ?  " 
said  they  to  the  bailiff  and  his  wife ;  but  they  gave  them  no  answer. 

And  when  the  men  arrived  at  the  parsonage-house,  with  the  copy  of  the 
board,  the  squire  also  wondered  at  the  three  crowns,  and  asked  the  men  if  they 
knew  the  meaning  of  it. 

"We  inquired,  but  nobody  would  give  us  an  answer,"  replied  the  men. 

"I  will  soon  find  it  out,"  said  the  squire.  "When  Flink  and  the  gaoler  come, 
tell  them  to  bring  the  bailiff  and  Hans  Wust  here." 

CHAPTER  LXXXVI. — THE  PASTOR  AGAIN  SHOWS  HIS  KINDNESS  OF  HEART. 

THE  good  pastor  had  no  sooner  heard  this,  than  he  slipped  out  of  the  room, 
went  to  the  tavern,  and  said  to  the  bailiff:  "For  God's  sake  what  is  the  meaning 
of  these  three  crowns  to  Joseph  ?  It  will  be  a  double  misfortune  to  thee,  if 
thou  dost  not  tell  me.  The  squire  is  angry  about  it." 

Then  the  bailiff  sorrowfully  confessed  to  the  pastor,  the  whole  affair  about 
Joseph  and  the  money. 

And  the  pastor  went  immediately  back  to  Arner,  and  told  him  all,  and  how 
penitently  the  bailiff  had  owned  it  to  him ;  and  he  again  entreated  the  squire  to 
be  merciful  toward  this  unhappy  man. 

"  Be  not  uneasy,  my  good  friend !  You  may  depend  upon  finding  me  humane 
and  compassionate  toward  him."  said  Arner. 


VJ34  I.KONAHl)  AND  GERTRUDE. 

He  then  had  Joseph  taken  from  his  work,  and  brought  before  him,  with  "Wust 
and  the  bailiff. 

The  bailiff  trembled  like  an  aspen  leaf.  "Wust  appeared  very  sorrowful,  but 
composed  and  patient. 

But  Joseph  was  in  a  rage,  and  said  to  the  bailiff:  "  Thou  old  wretch,  this  is  all 
thy  fault." 

Aruer  had  the  prisoners  brought,  one  after  the  other,  into  the  inner 
room  of  the  parsonage-house,  and  there  he  examined  them,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  Meyer,  Abi,  and  the  attorney.  And  when  the  secretary  had  writ- 
ten down  their  depositions,  word  for  word,  and  read  them  over  to  the. 
prisoners,  and  these  had  again  repeated  and  confirmed  them,  he  had  them  all 
brought  to  the  place  where  the  parish-meetings  are  held,  under  the  lime-trees, 
and  ordered  the  bell  to  be  rung,  to  assemble  all  the  people. 

CHAPTER  LXXXVII. — ON  A  CHEERFUL  DISPOSITION,  AND  ON  GHOSTS. 

BUT  before  this,  the  squire  went  for  a  few  moments  into  the  other  room,  to  the 
pastor,  and  said:  "I  will  take  a  draught  of  something  to  refresh  me,  my  good 
friend.  For  I  mean  to  be  merry  with  the  people.  It  is  the  best  way  to  con- 
vince them  of  any  thing." 

"Nothing  is  more  certain,"  said  the  pastor. 

And  the  squire  made  him  pledge  him,  and  said :  "  I  wish  all  clergymen  would 
learn  thus  to  go  amongst  the  people  in  a  straight-forward,  unceremonious  man- 
ner. When  people  see  a  man  good-humored,  and  with  an  open,  unrestrained 
manner,  they  are  half  won  already." 

"Alas,  sir!  "  said  the  pastor,  "this  cheerfulness,  and  open,  unrestrained  man- 
ner, are  exactly  what  we  are  least  allowed  to  practice." 

Squire.     "It  is  a  misfortune,  belonging  to  your  situation,  reverend  sir." 

Pastor.  "  You  are  quite  right.  None  should  go  amongst  the  people  with  a 
more  unrestrained,  cheerful,  open  manner,  than  the  ministers  of  religion.  They 
should  be  the  friends  of  the  people,  and  known  to  be  such.  They  should  be  in- 
fluenced by  a  regard  to  them  in  their  speech,  and  in  their  silence.  They  should 
carefully  consider  their  words,  and  yet  dispense  them  freely,  benevolently,  and 
to  the  purpose,  like  their  Master.  But,  alas !  they  form  themselves  in  other 
schools,  and  we  must  have  patience,  squire.  In  all  situations  of  life,  there  are 
many  impediments  to  the  practice  of  what  is  simple  and  natural." 

Squire.  "It  is  true.  In  all  ranks  people  wander  continually  further  and 
further  from  the  path  they  should  follow.  Much  time,  which  ought  to  be  em- 
ployed upon  important  duties,  is  wasted  upon  ceremonies  and  nonsense :  and 
there  are  few  men  who,  under  the  burthen  of  forms  of  etiquette  and  pedantry, 
preserve  due  attention  to  their  duties,  and  to  the  really  important  objects  of 
their  lives,  as  you  have  done,  my  dear  friend.  But,  by  your  side,  it  is  my  delight 
and  joy  to  feel  it  my  happy  destination  to  act  the  part  of  a  father,  and  I  will  en- 
deavor to  fulfill  it  with  a  pure  heart,  and,  like  you,  with  as  little  of  the  ceremony 
and  nonsense  of  the  world  as  possible." 

Pastor.     "  You  make  me  ashamed,  my  dear  sir." 

Squire.  "  I  feel  what  I  say !  but  the  bell  will  soon  ring.  I  am  impatient  for 
the  comedy  at  the  parish-meeting.  I  do  expect,  this  time,  to  cure  them  of  some 
of  their  superstitions." 

Pastor.  "  May  God  grant  you  success !  This  superstition  of  theirs,  interferes 
with  the  good  one  seeks  to  do  them." 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 


635 


Squire.  "I  find,  from  my  own  experience,  that  it  often  makes  them  very 
-stupid,  timid,  and  irresolute." 

Pastor.  "It  warps  a  man's  understanding,  and  has  a  bad  effect  upon  all  he 
does,  and  says,  and  thinks.  And,  what  is  still  worse,  it  injures  his  heart,  and 
nardens  it  with  pride  and  uncharitableness." 

Squire.  "  Yery  true.  There  is  a  wide  distinction  between  the  pure  simplicity 
of  nature,  and  the  blind  stupidity  of  superstition." 

Pastor.  "Yes.  The  uncorrupted  simplicity  of  nature  is  alive  to  every  im- 
pression of  truth  and  virtue:  it  is  like  a  blank  tablet.  But  the  stupidity  of 
superstition  is  like  melted  ore,  incapable  of  receiving  any  impression,  except 
from  fire  and  flame.  And  now  that  you  have  introduced  the  subject  of  this  dis- 
tinction, which  is  of  so  much  importance  to  me,  in  my  avocation,  will  you  per- 
mit me  to  say  a  few  more  words  about  it  ?  " 

Squire.     "  Pray  do.     The  subject  is  very  interesting  to  me." 

Pastor.  "Man,  in  the  uncorrupted  simplicity  of  his  nature,  knows  little;  but 
what  he  does  know,  is  well  arranged.  His  attention  is  firmly  and  steadily 
directed  toward  what  is  useful  and  comprehensible  to  him.  He  does  not  seek 
to  know  what  he  can  neither  comprehend  nor  turn  to  use.  But  the  stupidity  of 
superstition  has  no  clear  arrangement  in  its  knowledge.  It  boasts  of  knowing 
what  it  neither  knows  nor  comprehends;  it  persuades  itself  that  the  disorder  of 
its  ideas  is  heavenly  illumination,  and  that  the  fleeting  splendor  of  its  airy 
bubbles  is  divine  light  and  wisdom. 

"  The  simple  innocence  of  nature,  makes  use  of  all  the  senses,  judges  nothing 
inconsiderately,  examines  every  thing  quietly  and  attentively,  endures  opposi- 
tion, earnestly  seeks  and  desires  what  is  necessary,  not  what  is  mere  matter  of 
speculation,  and  conducts  itself  peacefully,  gently,  kindly,  and  benevolently. 
But  superstition  believes  in  contradiction  to  its  own  senses,  and  to  the  senses  of 
mankind  ;  never  rests  but  in  the  triumph  of  its  own  obscurity,  and  rages  rudely, 
wildly,  and  unfeelingly,  wherever  it  exists. 

"  Man,  in  a  state  of  simplicity,  is  guided  by  his  uncorrupted  heart,  upon  which 
he  can  always  depend;  and  by  his  senses,  which  he  uses  peacefully. 

"But  the  superstitious  man  is  guided  by  his  opinions,  to  which  he  sacrifices 
his  feelings,  his  senses,  and  often  his  God,  his  country,  his  neighbor,  and  himself." 

Squire.  "  Every  page  of  history  confirms  the  truth  of  your  statement ;  and 
a  very  small  share  of  experience  and  knowledge  of  the  world,  is  sufficient  to 
convince  any  man  that  hardness  of  heart  and  superstition  are  inseparable  com- 
panions, and  always  followed  by  pernicious  and  grievous  consequences." 

Pastor.  "From  this  essential  difference  between  the  simplicity  of  the  honest, 
unprejudiced  man,  and  the  stupidity  of  the  superstitious  man,  it  appears  that  the 
best  method  of  opposing  superstition,  is:  'In  educating  the  poor,  to  ground  their 
Knowledge  of  the  truth  upon  the  pure  feelings  of  innocence  and  love ;  and  to 
turn  their  attention  chiefly  to  the  surrounding  objects  which  interest  them  in 
.their  individual  situations.' " 

Squire.  "  I  understand  you,  my  good  friend !  and  I  think,  with  you,  that  by 
.this  means  superstition  and  prejudice  would  lose  their  sting,  their  hurtfulness, 
and  their  accordance  with  the  passions  and  desires  of  wicked  hearts,  and  with 
*he  groundless  terrors  and  weak  fancies  of  a  busy,  speculative  knowledge. 

"  And  thus  all  that  would  remain  of  prejudice  and  superstition  would  be  but 
^empty  words,  and  shades  of  things  without  inward  poison,  and  these  would  dio 
away  of  themselves." 


630  I.DONAKI)  AM)  GERTIUJDl-:. 

1'ns'nr.  ';  It  appears  to  me  in  the  same  light.  The  education  of  the 
should  he  founded  upon  clear  ideas,  surrounding  ohjects,  and  the  cautious  develop- 
ment of  the  impulses  of  human  nature;  because  these  are,  undoubtedly,  the 
foundation  of  true  human  wisdom. 

"To  fix  the  attention  strongly  upon  speculative  opinions  and  distant  objects, 
and  feebly  upon  our  duties,  our  actions,  and  the  objects  which  surround  us,  is  to 
create  disorder  in  the  soul  of  man.  It  leads  to  ignorance  about  our  most  im- 
portant affairs,  and  to  a  foolish  predilection  for  information  and  knowledge,  which 
do  not  concern  us. 

"Roughness  and  hardness  of  heart  are  the  natural  consequences  of  all  pride 
and  presumption ;  and  the  source  of  the  inward  poison  of  superstition  and  prej- 
udice is  clearly  derived  from  this:  that  in  the  education  of  the  people,  their  at- 
tention is  not  steadily  turned  to  the  circumstances  and  objects  around  them, 
which  have  a  strong  and  near  relation  to  their  individual  situation,  and  would 
lead  their  hearts  to  pure  and  tender  feelings  of  humanity  upon  all  occasions. 

"  If  people  sought  thus  to  instruct  them,  as  earnestly  and  zealously  as  they 
do  to  teach  them  particular  opinions,  superstition  would  be  torn  up  by  the  roots, 
and  deprived  of  all  its  power;  but  I  feel  daily,  more  and  more,  how  little  we  are- 
advanced  in  this  good  work." 

Squire.  "  In  the  wrorld  all  is  comparative!}'  true,  or  not  true.  There  have 
been  rude  tunes — times  when  a  man  who  did  not  believe  in  ghosts  was  esteemed 
a  heretic;  times  when  a  man  was  obliged,  on  pain  of  forfeiting  his  rights  and 
his  situation  of  judge,  to  order  old  women  to  the  rack,  to  make  them  confess 
their  dealings  with  the  devil." 

Pastor.  "God  be  praised,  those  times  are  gone  by;  but  much  of  the  old 
leaven  still  remains." 

Squire.  "Yet,  be  of  good  cheer,  my  friend!  One  stone  after  another  falls 
away  from  the  temple  of  superstition ;  and  it  would  be  well  if  people  were  only 
as  zealous  to  build  up  the  temple  of  God,  as  they  are  to  overthrow  that  of 
superstition ! " 

Pastor.  "There  again  we  are  wanting:  and  this  checks  and  destroys  my 
rejoicing  in  the  attacks  made  upon  superstition  ;  because  I  see  that  those  who> 
are  so  active  against  it,  trouble  themselves  very  little  about  upholding  religion, 
the  sanctuary  of  God,  in  its  strength." 

Squire  "It  is  too  true.  But  in  all  revolutions  people  will  always  begin  by 
rejecting  good  and  bad  together.  They-  were  in  the  right  to  purify  the  Lord's 
temple ;  but  they  will  soon  perceive  that,  in  their  zeal,  they  have  injured  the 
walls,  and  then  they  will  return  and  repair  them  again." 

Pastor.  "1  trust  it  will  be  so!  and,  indeed,  I  see  myself  that  people  begin, 
to  feel  that  destructive  irreligion  strikes  at  the  root  of  human  happiness." 

Squire.  "  We  must  now  go ;  and  I  will  make  one  attempt  this  very  day  to. 
attack  superstition,  and  overthrow  the  belief  in  ghosts  which  exists  in  Bonnal." 

Pastor.  "  May  you  be  successful !  I  have  as  yet  been  able  to  do  very  little 
against  it  by  my  arguments  and  preaching." 

Squire.  "  I  will  not  attempt  it  by  words.  My  poulterer  must  spare  me  that 
trouble,  with  his  basket  and  lantern,  his  pickaxe  and  mattock." 

Pastor.  "  I  really  believe  it  will  succeed  admirably.  It  is  certain  that,  wheii 
people  know  well  how  to  turn  such  accidents  to  advantage,  they  may  do  more 
by  means  of  them  in  a  moment,  than  they  can  in  half  a  century  by  all 
of  eloquence." 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 


63, 


CHAPTER  LXXXVIII. — ON  GHOSTS,  IN  A  DIFFERENT  TONE. 

IN  the  mean  time  the  country  people  were  all  assembled  at  the  place  of  meet- 
ng.  Yesterday's  .adventure,  and  the  report  of  the  prisoners,  brought  them  to- 
gether in  crowds.  The  alarming  appearance  of  the  devil  had  greatly  agitated 
'them,  and  they  had  already,  early  that  morning,  taken  council  together  what  was 
to  be  done  under  the  circumstances,  and  had  come  to  a  resolution  that  the  pas  • 
tor  ought  no  longer  to  be  allowed  to  teach  and  preach  so  incredulously,  and  to 
laugh  at  all  stories  of  ghosts.  They  determined  to  request  Hartknopf,  the 
church- warden,  to  make  a  proposal  to  this  effect  at  the  meeting ;  but  young 
Meyer  was  against  this,  and  said:  "I  can  not  agree  that  the  old  miser,  who 
starves  his  own  children,  and  is  constantly  hunting  about  for  all  sorts  of  refuse, 
should  speak  for  us.  It  will  be  an  eternal  shame  for  us  to  appoint  such  a 
hypocrite." 

The  men  answered:  "We  know  well  enough  that  he  is  a  hypocrite  and  a 
miser,  and  we  know  that  the  way  in  which  he  and  his  maid-servant  live  together 
is  scandalous.  It  is  true,  also,  that  we  have  not  such  a  liar  amongst  us,  nor  one 
who  encroaches  so  much  upon  his  neighbor's  land,  or  clears  his  field  so  carefully 
at  harvest-time ;  but  then,  there  is  not  one  of  us  who  can  talk  to  a  minister,  or 
discuss  spiritual  matters,  as  he  can.  If  you  can  tell  us  of  any  one,  who  will  do 
it  only  half  so  well,  we  will  be  content."  But  Meyer  knew  of  nobody. 

So  the  men  made  their  request  to  the  church- warden,  in  these  words:  "Hart- 
knopf, you  are  the  man  amongst  us  who  best  knows  how  to  answer  a  clergy- 
man ;  and  when  the  squire  holds  the  meeting  to-day,  we  wish  you  to  make  a 
complaint  against  the  pastor,  on  account  of  his  unbelief,  and  to  ask  for  the  ap- 
pointment of  a  day  of  prayer,  on  account  of  the  fearful  appearance  of  Satan.'' 

They  did  not  talk  to  him  publicly  about  this,  but  the  cleverest  amongst  them 
explained  the  business  to  him ;  for  the  pastor  had  many  friends  amongst  the 
poorer  part  of  them.  Some  of  the  richer  country  people  disliked  him  the  more 
on  this  account,  particularly  since  he  had  maintained,  in  one  of  his  morning  dis- 
courses, that  it  was  not  right  in  them  to  oppose  the  division  of  a  waste  com- 
mon, which  the  squire  had  proposed  for  the  advantage  of  the  poor. 

The  church- warden  Hartknopf,  accepted  the  appointment,  and  said:  "You 
have  given  me  rather  late  notice  of  this,  but  I  will  study  the  proposition ;  "  and 
he  went  away  to  his  own  house,  and  thought  over  what  he  had  to  say,  from 
morning  until  evening,  when  the  bell  rang  for  the  meeting.  When  those  who 
were  in  the  plot  were  all  assembled  together,  they  wondered  why  he  did  not 
join  them,  and  could  not  imagine  what  kept  him  away.  Then  Nickel  Spit/, 
said:  "  He  is  only  waiting  till  you  go  in  form  to  fetch  him." 

"What  is  to  be  done?"  said  the  men.  "We  must  e'en  do  as  the  simpleton 
wishes,  or  he  will  not  come." 

So  they  sent  three  of  their  officers  to  fetch  him ;  and  these  soon  returned  with 
him. 

The  churchwarden  saluted  the  people,  with  as  much  dignity  as  if  he  had  been 
a  pastor;  and,  with  great  importance  and  gravity,  assured  all  those  who  had 
entered  into  the  agreement,  that  he  had  now  studied  the  proposition. 

In  the  mean  time,  Arner  had  told  the  poulterer  that,  when  he  made  a  signal, 
by  taking  a  large  white  handkerchief  out  of  his  pocket,  he  must  eome  forth,  and 
do  all  that  they  had  agreed  upon  together. 


,338  LEONARD  AM)  GERTRUDE. 

Then  he  went  with  the  pastor  and  the  secretary  to  the  meeting. 

All  the  people  stood  up,  and  welcomed  the  worthy  squire  and  the  reverend 
pastor. 

Arner  thanked  them  with  paternal  kindness,  and  then  told  the  men  to  sit 
down  upon  benches,  that  all  might  be  done  in  proper  order. 

Theresa  and  the  pastor's  wife,  and  the  children  and  servants,  from  the  hall  and 
the  parsonage-house,  stood  in  the  churchyard,  from  whence  they  could  see  what 
passed  at  the  meeting. 

Arner  now  ordered  the  prisoners  to  be  brought  forth,  one  after  the  other,  and 
their  depositions  to  be  read  in  their  presence. 

And  when  they  had  confirmed  them  before  the  meeting,  he  told  the  bailiff  to 
kneel  down  and  hear  his  sentence,  and  addressed  him  as  follows: — 

CHAPTER  LXXXIX. — A  JUDGMENT. 

"UNHAPPY  MAN! 

"  It  grieves  me  to  the  heart,  to  pronounce  against  thee,  in  thy  old  age,  the 
doom  which  must  follow  evil  deeds  like  thine.  Thou  hast  deserved  death;  not 
because  Hubel  Rudi's  meadow  or  my  landmark  are  worth  a  man's  life,  but  be- 
cause perjury  and  daring  robbery  bring  innumerable  dangers  and  evils  upon  a 
country. 

"  The  perjured  man  and  the  robber  becomes  a  murderer,  when  circumstances 
tempt  him  to  it ;  and  is  already  a  murderer  in  many  senses,  through  the  conse- 
quences of  the  error,  suspicion,  distress,  and  misery,  which  lie  occasions. 

"  Therefore,  thou  hast  deserved  death. 

"I  will,  however,  spare  thy  life,  in  consideration  of  thy  old  age,  and  because 
a  part  of  thy  crimes  were  committed  against  myself,  individually. 

"  This  is  thy  punishment : — 

"  Thou  si i alt  this  day,  in  the  presence  of  appointed  persons  and  of  all  who 
wish  to  accompany  thee,  be  carried  to  the  landmark,  and  there,  in  chains,  re- 
place eveiy  thing  as  it  was  before 

"  Thence  thou  shalt  be  taken  to  the  village  prison,  when  the  pastor  will  ex 
amine  thee,  for  the  space  of  fourteen  days,  about  thy  past  life,  that  the  causes^ 
of  thy  great  recklessness  and  hardness  of  heart  may  be  clearly  and  evidently 
discerned:  and  I  will  myself  use  my  utmost  endeavors  to  discover  the  circum- 
stances which  have  led  thee  to  these  crimes,  and  which  may  lead  others  of  my 
dependants  into  similar  misfortunes. 

"  After  this  fortnight  is  expired,  the  pastor  will,  on  the  Sunday  following,, 
openly,  before  the  whole  community,  relate  the  history  of  thy  past  life,  of  the 
disorders  of  thy  house,  thy  hardness  of  heart,  thy  contempt  of  oaths  and  duties, 
and  thy  way  of  keeping  accounts  against  the  poor  and  rich — and  the  whole 
must  be  confirmed  by  thy  own  confession. 

"  I  will  myself  be  present ;  and,  with  the  assistance  of  the  pastor,  will  en- 
deavor to  preserve  my  dependents  from  such  dangers  in  future,  and  to  provide 
them  with  assistance  and  counsel  against  all  such  sources  and  causes  of  domes- 
tic misery. 

"  And  with  this  I  would  willingly  discharge  thee,  were  my  people  sufficiently 
peaceable  and  well  brought  up  to  follow  after  the  truth  and  what  pertains  to 
their  temporal  and  eternal  welfare,  for  their  own  sake,  and  not  from  the  fear  of 
severe,  painful,  and  loathsome  punishment;  but,  with  so  many  rude,  uncontrolled, 
and  ooisterous  people,  as  are  still  amongst  us,  it  is  necessary  for  me  to  add: — 


I  EONAR1)  AND  GERTRUDE.  (539, 

"That  the  executioner  must  conduct  thee  to-morrow  under  the  gallows  at  Bon- 
aal,  and  there  bind  thy  right  hand  to  a  stake,  and  mark  the  first  three  fingers 
with  an  indelible  black  stain. 

"But  it  is  my  express  desire,  that  no  man  imbitter  this  thy  hour  of  suffering, 
by  jest  or  laughter,  or  any  mark  of  redicule ;  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  all  the 
people  look  on,  without  noise  or  speech,  and  with  their  heads  uncovered." 

The  squire  then  condemned  Hans  Wust  to  eight  days'  punishment  in  prison. 
And  Joseph,  as  being  a  stranger,  he  immediately  expelled  from  his  territories, 
and  forbade  him  to  labor  or  to  appear  upon  his  land  any  more,  on  pain  of  being 
sent  to  the  house  of  correction. 

In  the  mean  time  the  pastor's  god-father,  Hans  Renold,  had  secretly  told  him 
what  the  country  people  had  settled  with  the  church-warden,  and  that  they  would 
certainly  and  without  doubt  attack  him  on  account  of  his  unbelief. 

The  pastor  thanked  Renold,  and  told  him,  laughingly,  not  to  be  uneasy ;  the 
thing  would  not  end  ill. 

"This  is  excellent,"  said  the  squire,  to  whom  the  pastor  told  this,  "that  they 
should  themselves  begin  the  game  :  "  and,  whilst  he  was  speaking,  the  church- 
warden got  up  and  said : — 

CHAPTER  xc. — THE  PROPOSAL  OF  HARTKNOPF,  THE  CHURCH-WARDEN. 
"HONORED  SIR! 

"  May  I  be  permitted,  in  the  name  of  your  faithful  people  of  Bonnal,  to  state 
to  you  an  affair  of  conscience?" 

Arner  answered:  "I  am  ready  t<  hear.  Who  are  you?  "What  have  you  to 
say?" 

The  church- warden  replied:  "I  am  Jacob  Christopher  Frederick  Hartknopf, 
church-warden  and  elder  of  Bonnal,  and  fifty-six  years  of  age.  And  the  princi- 
pal people  of  the  village,  being  themselves  inexperienced  and  unaccustomed  to 
speak  upon  spiritual  subjects,  have  chosen  and  requested  me  to  lay  a  statement 
before  you." 

Arner.     "  Now  then,  Mr.  Church-warden  Hartknopf,  to  the  point." 

Then  the  church-warden  began  again : — 
'  HONORED  SIR  ! 

""We  have  received  from  our  forefathers  a  belief  that  the  devil  and  his  spirits 
often  appear  to  men ;  and,  since  it  is  now  become  very  evident  that  this  our  old 
belief  in  spirits  is  true,  as  indeed  we  never  for  a  moment  doubted  it  to  be,  we 
are  compelled  to  take  the  liberty  of  informing  your  honor,  that  our  reverend 
pastor  (may  God  forgive  him,)  is  not  of  this  belief.  "We  well  know  that  your 
honor  is  of  the  same  opinion  with  the  pastor  on  this  subject.  But  since,  in 
sacred  things,  we  must  obey  God  rather  than  man,  we  hope  your  honor  will 
forgive  our  freedom,  when  we  entreat  that  the  reverend  pastor  may,  in  future, 
teach  our  children  our  old  belief,  about  the  appearance  of  the  devil,  and  that  he 
may  say  nothing  to  them  against  ghosts,  in  which  we  believe,  and  will  continue 
to  believe.  It  is  also  our  wish,  that  some  Sunday,  .at  no  great  distance,  may  be 
fixed  upon  for  a  day  of  fasting,  and  prayer,  and  humiliation ;  that  we  may  all, 
upon  an  appointed  day,  penitently  implore  forgiveness,  in  dust  and  ashes,  for  the 
increasing  sin  of  want  of  belief  in  spirits." 

The  squire  and  the  pastor,  though  they  were  scarcely  able  to  restrain  their 
laughter  till  he  had  finished,  yet  heard  him  with  all  possible  patience. 

But  the  country  people  rejoiced  in  their  hearts  over  this  discourse,  and  re- 


040  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

solved  to  accompany  this  able  orator  home,  by  hundreds,  though  they  had  sent 
only  three  to  fetch  him. 

They  now  rose  up  on  all  sides,  and  said:  "  Honored  sir!  we  all  agree  in  what 
the  church- warden  has  declared." 

But  the  poor,  and  all  those  who  loved  the  pastor,  were  very  sorry  and  grieved 
about  it,  and  said  here  and  there  to  each  other:  "If  he  had  only  the  luck  to 
believe  like  other  people — he  is  such  an  excellent  man !  "  But  these  durst  not 
speak  out.  so  that  his  enemies  triumphed. 

CHAPTER  xci.— THE  SQUIRE'S  REPLY. 

THE  squire  took  off  his  hat,  looked  earnestly  around  him,  and  said : — 

"Neighbors!  you  had  no  need  of  an  orator  for  such  nonsense  as  this.  Trie 
whole  affair,  and  the  appearance  of  the  devil,  is  all  a  mistake ;  and  your  pastor 
is  one  of  the  wisest  of  ministers.  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  insulting  torn 
through  such  a  poor  blockhead  as  your  church-warden.  If  you  had  a  proper 
regard  for  his  learning  and  judgment,  you  would  be  wiser,  lay  aside  your  belief 
in  old  women's  tales,  and  not  seek  to  restrain  intelligent  people  to  foolish  opin- 
ions, which  are  entirely  without  foundation." 

Here  the  country  people  all  exclaimed :  "  But  it  was  only  last  night  that  the 
•devil  appeared  to  the  bailiff,  and  sought  to  lay  hold  of  him." 

Squire.  "  You  are  mistaken,  neighbors ;  and  before  supper-time  you  will  be 
ashamed  of  your  credulity.  But  I  hope  you  are  not  all  equally  hardened  in 
your  folly.  Meyer !  are  you  also  of  the  opinion,  that  it  is  past  all  doubt  that  it 
was  the  devil  who  frightened  the  bailiff  so  terribly  upon  the  hill?  " 

Young  Meyer  answered:   "What  do  I  know  about  the  matter,  your  honor?  " 

The  church-warden  and  many  of  the  men  were  angry  at  Meyer  for  answer- 
ing thus. 

And  the  church- warden  muttered  over  the  bench  to  him :  "  How  canst  thou 
talk  so  against  thy  knowledge  and  conscience,  Meyer  ?  "  But  many  of  the  men 
exclaimed:  "We  all  heard  the  horrible  voice  of  the  pursuing  devil." 

Squire.  "I  know  very  well  that  you  heard  a  shout,  and  a  roaring,  and  a 
rattling.  But  how  can  you  tell  that  all  this  was  the  devil  ?  Might  it  not  be  a 
man,  or  several  men,  who,  unluckily  for  the  bailiff,  who  seems  to  have  been 
there  at  an  improper  time,  wished  to  frighten  him  ?  The  wood  is  scarcely  ever 
without  somebody  in  it,  and  the  high  road  is  near,  so  that  it  may  as  easily  have 
been  men  as  the  devil." 

Countrymen.  "  Twenty  or  thirty  men  could  not  have  made  such  a  noise ;  and, 
if  your  honor  had  been  there  and  heard  it,  you  would  never  have  thought  of  its 
being  men." 

Squire.  "  Night  is  deceitful,  neighbors !  and,  when  people  are  once  frightened, 
they  see  and  hear  double." 

Countrymen.     "It  is  of  no  use  to  talk  of  being  mistaken.     It  is  impossible." 

Squire.     "But  I  tell  you  it  is  altogether  certain  that  you  were  mistaken." 

Countrymen.  "No,  please  your  honor,  it  is  entirely  certain  that  we  were  not 
mistaken." 

Squire.  "  I  have  a  great  notion  I  could  convince  you  that  you  were  mis- 
taken." 

Countrymen.     "  We  should  like  to  see  that,  your  honor." 

Squire.     "  Many  things  would  be  more  difficult." 

Countrymen.     "  Your  honor  is  joking." 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  641 

Sqmre.     ''No,  I  am  not  joking.     If  you  think  I  can  not  do  it,  I  will  try. 
And  if  you  will  agree  to  divide  the  common,  I  will  perform  my  promise,  and 
convince  you  that  all  the  roaring  and  rattling  was  made  by  one  man." 
Countrymen.     "  That  is  impossible." 

Squire.     "  Will  you  venture  it  ?  " 

Countrymen.  "Yes,  sir,  we  will!  We  durst  venture  two  commons  upon  it, 
that  you  will  not  be  able  to  prove  this." 

Here  there  arose  a  murmur  amongst  the  countrymen.  Some  of  them  said : 
"  People  should  take  care  what  they  promise."  Others  replied:  "He  can  no 
more  prove  this,  than  that  the  devil  will  go  to  heaven  1 "  Others  again  said :  "  We 
have  nothing  to  fear;  he  must  give  it  up.  We  will  venture;  he  can  never 
prove  it." 

Countrymen  (aloud.)  "Yes,  squire;  if  you  will  keep  your  word;  speak  on. 
We  are  content  that  if  you  can  prove  what  you  say,  that  one  man  made  the 
noise  we  heard  yesterday,  we  will  divide  the  common.  That  is  to  say,  if  you 
-can  prove  it  entirely  to  our  satisfaction ;  not  otherwise." 

The  squire  took  out  a  large  white  handkerchief,  gave  the  poulterer  the  signal, 
#nd  said  to  the  men:  "  I  must  have  a  quarter  of  an  hour  for  preparation.  " 

The  people  smiled  all  around,  and  said:   "Till  to-morrow,  squire,  if  you  will." 

The  squire  said  not  a  word  in  answer  to  their  rudeness ;  but  those  who  were 
in  the  churchyard,  and  could  see  the  poulterer  approaching  the  place  of  meeting, 
laughed  heartily. 

The  men  anticipated  some  mischance  when  they  heard  the  bursts  of  laughter, 
and  saw  the  stranger,  with  his  dark  basket  and  lantern,  drawing  near. 

"  What  fool  is  this,  who  walks  with  a  lighted  lantern  in  broad  daylight  ?  " 
said  they. 

Arner  answered :  "  It  is  my  poulterer  from  Arnheim  1 "  and  called  out  to  him  : 
"  Christopher,  what  is  your  business  here  ?  " 

"  I  have  a  tale  to  tell,  please  your  honor." 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  answered  Arner. 

Then  the  poulterer  set  down  his  basket,  and  said : — 

CHAPTER  xcn. — SPEECH  OF  THE  POULTERER  TO  THE  MEETING. 

"HONORED  sir,  reverend  pastor,  and  you  neighbors,  here  are  the  pickaxe,  the 
mattock,  the  spade,  the  brandy-bottle,  the  tobacco-pipe,  and  the  cocked  hat  of  your 
bailiff,  which,  in  his  fright,  he  left  by  the  landmark  last  night,  when  I  drove  him 
away  from  his  work  on  the  hill." 

Countrymen.  "And  are  we  to  believe  that  it  was  you  who  made  all.  the  noise  ? 
That  can  never  be.  The  proof  is  not  sufficient ;  we  beg  for  another." 

Squire.  "  Wait  a  little  longer.  He  has  a  lantern  by  his  side.  Perhaps  it  may 
enlighten  you  a  little."  And  then  he  added,  loudly  and  very  seriously :  "  Be  silent, 
if  you  please,  till  he  has  finished  what  he  has  to  say." 

The  men  obeyed. 

Then  the  poulterer  continued :  "  You  are  not  so  civil  as  people  usually  are  in  this 
country.  Why  don't  you  let  me  finish  ?  Remember  the  poulterer  of  Arnheim. 
If  you  do  not  hear  every  word  I  have  to  say,  the  next  newspaper  will  be  full 
of  you ;  for  there  is  not  a  syllable  of  truth  in  the  devil's  having  appeared  to  the 
bailiff.  It  was  I  who  frightened  him !  I,  the  poulterer,  just  as  I  now  stand  before 
yc'i,  with  this  basket,  and  this  new  black  goat-skin,  which  I  had  put  over  my 
basket,  because  it  rained  yesterday,  and  I  had  hung  the  lantern  before  the  basket, 

41 


$42  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

as  you  saw  it  when  I  came  here.  I  filled  it  full  of  oil  at  Hirzau,  that  it  might 
buru  well ;  for  it  was  very  dark,  and  the  road,  as  you  well  know,  is  bad  near 
Hirzau.  At  eleven  o'clock  I  was  in  the  tavern  at  Hirzau.  I  can  bring  the  land- 
lord, and  at  least  ten  men  more,  who  were  there,  to  prove  this.  As  I  came  over 
the  top  of  the  hill,  it  struck  twelve  at  Bonnal ;  and  then  I  heard  the  bailiff,  not  half 
a  stone's  throw  from  the  high-road,  swearing  and  working  away ;  and,  as  I  knew 
him  immediately  by  his  voice  and  his  swearing,  I  began  to  wonder  what  he  was 
doing  there  at  that  hour  of  night.  I  half  suspected  that  he  was  searching  for 
hidden  treasures,  and  that  he  might  share  them  with  me  if  I  hit  the  right  time. 
I  followed  the  noise.  But  the  bailiff,  it  seems,  had  yesterday,  contrary  to  his 
usual  custom,  drunk  rather  more  than  was  necessary ;  for,  the  moment  he  beheld 
me,  he  took  me — a  poor  sinful  man — for  the  devil  in  a  bodily  form !  and  when. 
I  saw  that  he  was  about  removing  a  landmark  in  our  master's  wood.  I  thought  to 
myself :  come,  he  deserves  to  be  frightened.  I  will  make  him  think  hell  is  gaping 
for  him !  So  I  bound  the  mattock,  pickaxe,  spade,  and  my  walking-stick,  all  to- 
gether, dragged  them  down  the  hill,  over  the  stones,  after  me,  and  shouted  out. 
with  all  my  might:  Oh! — Ah! — Uh! — bai — lift'! — thou  art  mine!  Hum — mel!- 
And  I  was  not  more  than  a  stone's  throw  from  you,  when  you  crept  out  softly  and 
cautiously  with  your  torches,  to  the  bailiffs  assistance.  But  as  I  had  no  wish  to- 
frighten  innocent  folks  with  making  a  noise  so  near  them,  I  gave  over,  and  went 
up  the  hill  again,  with  my  booty,  to  my  basket,  and  then  took  the  nearest  way 
home.  It  was  a  quarter  past  two  when  our  watchman  met  me,  and  asked  why 
I  was  carrying  workmen's  tools  upon  my  egg-basket. 

"  I  forget  what  I  answered,  but  certainly  nothing  to  the  purpose ;  for  I  did  not 
wish  to  say  any  thing  of  it,  till  I  had  told  the  squire  my  story ;  which  I  did  at  six 
o'clock  this  morning. 

"  And  now,  neighbors,  how  do  you  think  1  could  come  by  this  story  and  these 
tools  so  early,  if  what  I  tell  you  is  not  true  ?  " 

Some  of  the  countrymen  scratched  their  heads,  others  laughed. 

The  poulterer  continued:  "If  such  a  thing  should  happen  to  you  again,  neigh- 
bore,  let  me  just,  in  a  friendly  way,  advise  the  watchman,  the  authorities,  and 
all  the  honorable  commonalty  of  Bonnal,  to  let  loose  the  greatest  dog  in  the  village, 
and  he  will  soon  discover  the  devil." 

The  poulterer  here  ceased,  and  there  was  a  general  murmur  on  every  side. 

CHAPTER  xcm. — THE  POOR  ARE  GAINERS  BY  THE  COMEDY. 

Some  countrymen.     "It  is  as  he  says,  by  G — !  all  the  circumstances  agree." 

Other  countrymen.     "  What  a  set  of  fools  we  were." 

Kunz.     "I  wanted  to  run  after  the  rogue." 

Some  of  the  leaders.     "  If  we  had  only  not  staked  the  common  upon  it." 

The  rich  countrymen.     "  This  is  a  cursed  business." 

The  poor.     "  Heaven  be  praised  for  it." 

Theresa.     "The  master-stroke  of  all,  is  getting  the  common  divided." 

Pastor's  wife.     "  The  whole  is  a  master-stroke." 

The  church-warden.  "  It  is  enough  to  make  the  very  stones  weep  blood !  Our 
belief  is  lost  for  ever.  Elias !  Elias!  Fire  from  heaven." 

The  children  (from  the  churchyard.)  "  Thou  art  mine !— Oh !— Ah !— Uh  I— 
bailiff!  " 

The  pastor.     "  I  never  saw  the  people  so  much  moved." 

Tlie  bailiff.     "  Am  I  in  a  dream,  or  awake?     All  was  a  mistake,  and  I  nutst  gx> 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  643 

under  the  gallows.  And  yet  I  feel  no  anger;  no  desire  of  vengeance  rages 
within  me." 

Thus  in  a  general  murmur  did  every  man  speak  according  to  his  own 
feelings. 

After  a  while  Arner  stood  up,  smiled,  and  said :  "  How  are  you  now  inclined 
about  the  fast-day,  on  account  of  the  fearful  appearance  of  the  devil  upon  the 
hill?" 

Do  what  is  right !  Love  God  ! 

And  fear  God.  but  neither  man  nor  devil. 

This  is  the  old  and  true  belief;  and  your  stories  of  apparitions  and  spirits  are  idle 
follies,  which  ruin  your  heads  and  hearts. 

"Now  at  last  the  division  of  your  common  is  agreed  upon,  and  you  will  find, 
in  a  few  years,  how  useful  and  beneficial  it  will  be  to  your  children  and  grand- 
children, and  how  much  reason  I  had  to  wish  for  it  so  earnestly.  I  have  ordered 
some  drink  to  be  brought  to  you.  Drink  it  to  my  health,  and  to  the  health  of 
your  numerous  poor,  who,  in  the  division  of  the  common,  will  receive  no  more 
than  the  rest ;  but  to  whom  it  will  be  a  treasure,  because  they  have  nothing 
besides.  There  is  not  one  of  you  who  knows  how  much  his  children  may  stand 
in  need  of  it." 

Then  Arner  left  the  meeting,  and  told  Hubel  Rudi  to  follow  him,  in  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  to  the  parsonage-house. 

And  the  squire  and  the  pastor  went  to  their  wives  in  the  churchyard,  and  after-- 
ward, with  them,  to  the  parsonage-house. 

The  pastor  praised  Arner  for  the  wisdom  and  humanity  with  which  he  had 
treated  his  flock,  and  said  to  him  :  "I  shall  never  again  urge  you  to  show  forbear- 
ance and  compassion  toward  any  body,  for  your  own  benevolent  heart  has  ex- 
ceeded all  I  could  have  asked  or  advised." 

CHAPTER  xciv. — THE  SQUIRE  THANKS  THE  PASTOR. 

THE  squire  replied :  "  Say  no  more,  my  dear  friend,  I  beseech  you.  I  go  straight- 
to  the  point,  and  am  as  yet  young  and  without  experience.  But,  with  God's  assist- 
ance, I  hope  to  learn  how  to  manage  things  better.  I  am  truly  rejoiced  that  you 
approve  of  my  decisions.  But  you  must  not  imagine  that  I  am  not  aware  that, 
your  exertions  have  been  much  greater  than  mine,  and  that  your  care  and  kind- 
ness had  prepared  every  thing,  so  that  little  remained  for  me,  but  to  pronounce 
the  sentence." 

Pastor.     " My  dear  sir,  you  go  too  far!  " 

Squire.  "No,  my  friend.  It  is  the  simple  truth,  and  I  should  be  indeed  un- 
thankful and  unjust,  if  I  did  not  acknowledge  it.  You  have  labored  with  great 
care  and  intelligence  to  throw  light  upon  my  dear  grandfather's  inconsiderate 
decisions,  and  to  put  an  end  to  their  consequences.  That  good  and  upright  man 
will  rejoice,  in  heaven,  over  what  you  have  done,  and  that  the  evil  has  at  last 
been  remedied ;  and  he  certainly  would  not  forgive  me,  if  I  were  to  leave  your 
goodness  unrewarded.  Here  are  the  deeds  of  a  small  piece  of  land  in  your  vil- 
lage, which  I  hope  you  will  accept  as  a  testimony  of  my  gratitude." 

Thus  saying,  he  gave  him  a  sealed  deed  of  gift,  which  was  expressed  with  the 
greatest  warmth  of  gratitude. 

Theresa  stood  by  Arner's  side,  and  presented  the  pastor  with  the  most  beau- 
tify! nosegay  ever  seen  in  a  parsonage-house. 

"This  is  in  remembrance  of  the  best  of  grandfathers,  reverend  sir,'1  said  she. 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

And  in  the  morning  the  pastor's  wife  discovered,  for  the  first  time,  that  it  was 
bound  together  by  a  string  of  pearls. 

The  good  pastor  was  much  overcome:  tears  filled  his  eyes,  and  he  could 
not  speak. 

"Say  not  a  word  about  it."  added  the  squire. 

"  Your  heart  is  worthy  of  a  kingdom  I  "  said  the  pastor  at  last. 

"Do  not  make  me  blush,  my  dear  sir,"  answered  the  squire.  "  Be  my  friend; 
and,  hand  in  hand,  let  us  strive  to  make  our  people  as  happy  as  we  can.  I  hope 
to  see  more  of  you  in  future,  and  you  will  come  more  to  me,  will  you  not  ?  My 
carriage  is  always  at  your  service.  Send  for  it,  without  ceremony,  whenever 
you  like  to  come  to  me." 

CHAPTER  xcv. — THE  SQUIRE  ASKS  FORGIVENESS  FROM  A  POOR  MAN,  WHOM  HIS 

GRANDFATHER   HAD   INJURED. 

IN  the  mean  time  Hubel  Rudi  arrived,  and  the  squire  held  out  his  hand  to  the 
poor  man,  and  said :  "  Rudi !  my  grandfather  did  you  injustice,  and  deprived  you 
of  your  meadow  by  his  decision.  It  was  a  misfortune.  He  was  deceived.  You 
must  forgive  him,  and  not  bear  malice  against  him." 

Rudi  answered:  "Alas!  your  honor!  I  knew  very  well  that  it  was  not  his 
fault." 

" Did  you  never  hate  him  for  it?"  said  the  squire. 

Rudi.  "In  my  poverty,  and  particularly  at  first,  I  was  indeed  often  very 
much  troubled  that  I  had  not  the  meadow  any  longer ;  but  I  never  felt  hatred 
toward  his  honor." 

Squire.     "  Is  this  really  true,  Rudi  ?  " 

Rudi.  "  It  is,  indeed,  your  honor !  God  knows  that  it  is,  and  that  I  never 
could  feel  angry  with  him.  I  knew  in  my  heart  that  it  was  not  his  fault.  What 
could  he  do,  when  the  bailiff  found  false  witnesses,  who  swore  an  oath  against 
me  ?  The  good  old  squire,  whenever  he  saw  me  afterward,  gave  me  money,  and 
on  all  holidays  sent  me  meat,  and  bread,  and  wine.  May  God  reward  him  for 
it.  It  often  cheered  me  in  my  poverty." 

Rudi  had  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  continued:  "Alas!  your  honor!  if  he  had 
only  talked  with  us,  by  ourselves,  as  you  do,  many,  very  many  things  would 
never  have  happened ;  but  the  bloodsuckers  were  always  by  his  side,  whenever 
we  saw  him,  and  that  spoiled  all." 

Squire.  "  You  must  forget  this  now,  Rudi.  The  meadow  is  again  yours.  I 
have  effaced  the  bailiff's  name  from  the  deed,  and  I  wish  you  joy  of  it  with  all 
my  heart,  Rudi !  " 

Rudi  trembled,  and  stammered  out:  "I  can  not  enough  thank  your 
honor." 

The  squire  said :  "  You  have  nothing  to  thank  me  for,  Rudi.  The  meadow  is 
yours  by  the  laws  of  God  and  man." 

Rudi  clasped  his  hands  together,  wept  aloud,  and  said :  "  0,  my  mother's  bless- 
ing is  upon  me !  She  died  on  Friday,  your  honor !  and  before  she  died,  she  said 
to  me :  'All  will  go  well  with  thee,  Rudi.  Think  of  me,  Rudi ! '  0,  sir,  I  am 
so  grieved  for  my  dear  mother !  " 

The  squire  and  the  pastor  were  much  affected,  and  the  squire  said :  "  God's 
blessing  will  indeed  be  upon  you,  good  and  pious  man." 

"  0,  sir  1  it  is  owing  to  my  mother's  blessing !  The  blessing  of  the  most  relig- 
ious, patient  woman,"  said  Rudi,  weeping. 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  545 

"  How  troubled  I  am,  pastor,  that  this  man  should  have  been  so  long  kept  out 
of  his  right,"  said  the  squire. 

"  It  is  all  over  now,  sir !  "  said  Rudi,  "  and  suffering  and  want  are  blessings 
from  God,  when  they  are  gone  through.  But  I  can  not  sufficiently  thank  you 
for  all ;  for  the  work  at  the  church,  which  cheered  and  comforted  my  mother  on 
her  death-bed ;  and  then  for  the  meadow.  I  know  not  what  I  ought  to  say  or 
do,  sir.  0 !  if  she  had  only  lived  to  see  it !  " 

Squire.  "You  are  an  excellent  man,  and  she  will  rejoice  in  your  welfare, 
even  in  heaven.  Your  sorrow  and  your  filial  love  have  affected  me  so  much, 
that  I  had  almost  forgotten  to  tell  you,  that  the  bailiff  is  bound  to  pay  you 
arrears,  with  costs." 

Pastor.  "  Permit  me,  sir,  here  to  speak  a  word  to  Rudi.  The  bailiff  is  in 
very  straitened  circumstances.  He  is,  indeed,  bound  to  pay  you  arrears,  with 
costs,  Rudi.  But  I  know  that  you  are  too  kind-hearted  to  push  him  to  the 
uttermost,  and  to  bring  him  to  beggary  in  his  old  age.  I  promised,  in  his  afflic- 
tion, to  do  all  I  could  to  obtain  mercy  and  compassion  for  him,  and  I  must  per- 
form my  promise  now.  Rudi,  have  pity  upon  his  distress." 

CHAPTER  xcvi. — GENEROSITY  OP  A  POOR  MAN  TOWARD  HIS  ENEMY. 

Rudi.  "  Say  not  a  word  about  the  arrears,  reverend  sir ;  they  are  out  of  the 
question :  and,  if  the  bailiff  is  so  poor — I  don't  like  to  seem  to  boast — but  I  will 
certainly  do  what  is  right  toward  him. 

"  The  meadow  will  furnish  hay  for  more  than  three  cows ;  and,  if  I  keep 
two  out  of  it,  I  shall  have  enough  and  more  than  I  durst  hope  for;  and  I 
will  willingly  let  the  bailiff  have  enough  to  keep  one  cow,  as  long  as  he 
lives." 

Pastor.  "  It  is  acting  generously,  and  like  a  Christian,  Rudi ;  and  God  will 
grant  his  blessing  upon  the  remainder." 

Arner.  "  This  is  all  well  and  good,  my  dear  sir.  But  we  must  not  take  the 
good  fellow  at  his  word,  now.  He  is  overcome  by  his  joy.  I  admire  you  for 
your  offer,  Rudi ;  but  consider  the  thing  over  quietly  for  a  day  or  two.  It  will 
be  time  enough  to  promise,  when  you  are  sure  you  will  not  repent." 

Rudi.  "  I  am  but  a  poor  man,  your  honor ;  but  not  so  poor  as  to  repent 
having  promised  to  do  what  is  right." 

Pastor.  "  The  squire  is  right,  Rudi.  It  is  enough  for  the  present  that  you 
will  not  exact  the  arrears.  If  you  find  that  the  bailiff  is  in  want;  when  you 
have  well  considered  the  thing,  you  can  do  what  you  like." 

Rudi.  "  If  the  bailiff'  is  in  want,  I  am  sure  I  shall  wish  to  do  as  I  have  said, 
your  reverence." 

Squire.  "  Well,  Rudi,  I  want  this  to  be  a  happy,  cheerful  day  for  you. 
"Would  you  rather  stay  and  rejoice  with  us  here,  or  go  home  to  your  children  ? 
I  will  take  care  that  you  have  a  good  supper  in  either  place." 

Rudi.  "  Your  honor  is  very  good !  but  I  wish  to  go  home  to  my  children. 
There  is  nobody  to  take  care  of  them.  Alas !  my  wife  is  in  her  grave — and  mj 
mother  also." 

Squire.  "  Then  go  home  to  your  children,  Rudi.  In  the  pastor's  cow-houser 
below,  you  will  find  a  cow,  which  I  give  you  to  reconcile  you  to  my  dear  grand- 
father, who  did  you  wrong ;  and  that  you  may  this  day  rejoice  over  his  memory, 
with  your  children.  I  have  also  ordered  a  quantity  of  hay  to  be  carried  from 
the  bailiff's  barn,  for  it  is  yours.  You  will  find  it  at  home;  and,  if  your  cottagp 


646  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

or  your  cow-house  want  repairs,  take  what  wood  is  necessary  out  of  my 
forest." 

CHAPTER  xcvu. — HIS  GRATITUDE  TO  THE  SQUIRE. 

RUDI  knew  not  what  to  say,  he  was  so  completely  overcome ;  and  this  joyful 
confusion,  which  could  not  utter  a  word,  pleased  Arner  more  than  any  expres- 
sion of  thanks. 

At  last  Rudi  stammered  out  a  few  words,  but  Arner  interrupted  him,  and 
said,  smiling:  "I  see  that  you  are  grateful,  Rudi."  He  then  again  shook  him 
by  the  hand,  and  added:  "Go,  now,  Rudi.  Drive  home  your  cow,  and  depend 
upon  my  help ;  whenever  I  can  be  of  service  to  you  in  any  way,  it  will  always 
be  a  pleasure  to  me." 

Then  Rudi  left  Arner,  and  drove  home  the  cow. 

I 

CHAPTER  xcvm. — A  SCENE  TO  TOUCH  THE  HEART. 

THE  pastor,  and  all  who  were  present,  had  tears  in  their  eyes,  and  remained 
silent  for  some  moments  after  the  man  left  the  room. 

At  last  Theresa  exclaimed:  "What  an  evening  this  has  been !  How  fair  is 
creation,  and  with  what  pleasure  and  joy  does  the  face  of  nature  inspire  us ;  but 
human  happiness  is  more  delightful  than  all  the  beauties  of  earth !  " 

"Yes,  my  love,  it  surpasses  all  earthly  beauties,"  said  the  squire. 

The  pastor  added:  "I  thank  you,  from  my  heart,  sir,  for  the  touching  scenes 
you  have  brought  before  us.  Throughout  the  course  of  my  life,  I  never  met 
with  purer  and  nobler  greatness  of  soul  than  in  the  deed  of  this  man.  But  it  is 
most  certain  that  the  purest  elevation  of  the  human  heart,  is  to  be  sought  for 
amongst  the  unfortunate  and  distreased." 

The  pastor's  wife  pressed  her  children,  who  were  much  affected,  to  her  heart, 
bent  over  them,  and  wept  in  silence. 

After  a  while,  the  children  said  to  her:  "Let  us  go  and  see  his  poor  children, 
and  send  them  our  supper." 

And  the  pastor's  wife  said  to  Theresa:  "Will  you  like  to  go  with  the  chil- 
dren?" 

"Very  willingly,"  answered  Theresa.  And  the  squire  and  the  pastor  ex- 
pressed their  wish  to  accompany  them. 

Arner  had  brought  a  roasted  quarter  of  veal  in  the  carriage  with  him,  for  tlie 
poor  family ;  and  the  pastors  wife  had  added  to  this  some  good  nourishing  hrotli, 
and  given  orders  for  it  to  be  taken  to  them :  but  now  she  sent  also  her  own  and 
the  children's  supper,  and  Glaus  carried  all  to  the  poor  man's  cottage. 

All  the  villagers,  young  and  old,  men,  women,  and  children,  were  collected  at 
Rudi's  door,  and  round  the  hay-cart  and  the  fine  cow. 

Glaus  was  followed  almost  immediately  by  the  squire  and  his  lady,  the  pastor's 
wife,  and  all  the  children.  They  went  into  the  room  and  found  nothing  but 
sickly,  half-naked  children,  the  pictures  of  hunger  and  want.  All  were  much 
affected  by  the  distress  of  the  family ;  and  Arner  said  to  his  companions :  "  Yet 
this  very  man  is  now  willing  to  give  the  bailiff,  who  has  been  the  cause  of  all 
this  misery  for  so  many  years,  a  third  part  of  the  hay  from  his  meadow !  " 

"It  ought  not  to  be  allowed,"  said  Theresa,  hastily,  in  the  warmth  of  her 
compassion  for  so  much  distress.  "  This  man,  with  all  his  children,  ought  not 
to  be  allowed  to  give  a  farthing  of  what  belongs  to  him  to  that  wicked  wretch." 

"  But,  my  love,  would  you  set  bounds  to  the  course  of  that  virtue  and 


LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE.  647 

•magnanimity  which  God  has  raised,  through  suffering  and  want,  to  such  a 
height  ? — a  height  which  has  so  deeply  affected  your  own  heart,  and  forced  tears 
from  you  ?  " 

"  No,  not  for  worlds,"  answered  Theresa.  "  Let  him  give  all  he  has,  if  he  will. 
God  will  never  forsake  such  a  man  !  " 

Arner  then  said  to  Rudi:  "Give  your  children  something  to  eat." 

But  Rudeli  pulled  his  father  by  the  arm,  and  whispered  in  his  ear :  "  Father, 
may  I  take  Gertrude  something  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Rudi ;  "  but  wait  a  little." 

Arner  had  heard  the  word  Gertrude,  and  asked  what  the  little  fellow  was 
saying  about  her. 

Then  Rudi  told  him  about  the  stolen  potatoes,  and  his  mother's  death-bed; 
and  the  goodness  of  Leonard  and  Gertrude,  and  that  the  very  shoes  and  stock- 
ings he  had  on  came  from  them ;  adding :  "  This  is  a  blessed  day  for  me,  your 
honor !  but  I  can  not  enjoy  one  mouthful,  if  these  people  do  not  come  and  share 
it." 

How  Arner  praised  them,  and  how  they  all  admired  the  quiet  goodness  of  a 
poor  mason's  wife,  and  the  holy  death  of  Catharine ;  and  how  Rudeli  ran  with 
a  beating  heart  to  invite  Leonard  and  Gertrude ;  and  how  they  declined  till 
Arner  sent  Claus  again  for  them  and  their  children,  and  then  came  abashed  and 
with  downcast  eyes ;  how  Charles  and  Emily  begged  their  papa  and  mamma  to 
give  them  shoes  and  stockings,  and  some  of  their  old  clothes,  for  all  the  chil- 
dren, and  helped  them  to  the  nicest  food ;  and  how  kind  the  pastor's  wife  was 
to  them  ;  and  how  Rudeli  and  his  sisters  were  not  content  till  Gertrude  came, 
and  then  ran  to  her,  seized  hold  of  her  hand,  and  jumped  into  her  arms.  All 
this  I  will  not  seek  to  describe  by  many  words. 

Arner  and  Theresa  stood  for  some  time  gazing  on  the  scene,  deepty  touched 
by  the  sight  of  so  much  misery,  which  was  now  cheered  and  entirely  relieved. 
At  last,  with  tears  in  their  eyes,  they  quietly  took  leave ;  and  the  squire  said  to 
the  coachman :  "  Drive  gently  for  a  mile  or  two." 

Leonard  and  Gertrude  remained  with  Rudi  till  eight  o'clock,  joyfully  sympa- 
thizing in  his  good  fortune. 

CHAPTER  xcix. — A  PLEASING  PROSPECT. 

FOR  the  last  few  weeks,  there  has  been  a  general  report  in  the  village,  that 
Gertrude  wishes  to  bring  about  a  marriage  between  Rudi  and  young  Meyer's 
sister,  who  is  her  dearest  friend. 

And  as  Rudi's  meadow  is  worth  at  least  two  thousand  florins,  and  it  is  said 
that  the  squire  has  told  her  brother  he  should  rejoice  in  the  match,  people  sup- 
pose she  will  not  refuse  him. 

The  mason  goes  on  extremely  well  with  the  building,  and  the  squire  likes 
him  better  every  day. 

CHAPTER  c. — THE  POULTERER'S  REWARD. 

THE  poulterer  came  in  for  his  share  of  good  fortune.  Theresa  saw  him,  as 
they  were  driving  home,  and  said  to  Arner:  "He  should  not  go  unrewarded; 
.for,  in  reality,  it  was  he,  and  his  night  journey,  which  brought  all  this 
-about." 

Then  Arner  called  out  to  the  poulterer,  and  said :   "  Christopher  1  my  wife 


048  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

insists  upon  having  you  paid  for  your  devil's  business : "  and  hie  gave  hiiu  a 
couple  of  crowns. 

The  poulterer  made  a  low  bow,  and  said:  "Please  your  honor,  I  should  like 
to  do  such  devil's  business  every  day  of  my  life." 

"Yes,"  said  Arner;  "provided  you  could  be  sure  of  having  the  dogs  kept 
well  chained  up." 

"Very  true,  your  honor,"  said  the  poulterer;  and  the  carriage  drove  on. 


REMARKS  BY  THE  EDITOR. 


THE  foregoing  pages,  although  constituting  a  tale  complete  in  itself,  and 
the  whole  work  as  originally  published  in  1781,  are  but  about  one-fourth 
part  of  "  Leonard  and  Gertrude"  as  enlarged  in  subsequent  editions. 

As  introductory  to  the  chapters  on  the  School  in  Bonnal,  which  are 
the  only  portion  to  be  given  from  the  remainder  of  the  work,  it  will  not 
be  improper  to  give  a  brief  account  of  all  of  it. 

The  first  volume  of  the  collected  edition  of  Pestalozzi's  works  [1818 — 
26,]  contains  all  the  portion  above  printed.  The  story  proceeds  with  a 
continuation  of  Arner's  efforts  for  the  improvement  of  the  village,  with 
the  help  of  the  pastor,  of  Gluelphi,  a  retired  military  officer  who  becomes 
schoolmaster,  Meyer,  a  cotton  manufacturer,  and  Gertrude,  whose  simple 
and  effective  practical  methods  of  managing  and  instructing  her  own  and 
Rudi's  children,  furnish  indispensable  patterns  to  the  benevolent  and  well- 
educated  but  inexperienced  gentry. 

The  school,  though  a  prominent  feature  in  the  story,  is  only  one  feature. 
It  includes  a  combination  of  measures  set  on  foot  by  Arner  for  the  moral, 
social,  and  physical  improvement  of  the  people  of  the  village,  both  rich 
and  poor.  The  action  of  the  tale  consists  of  the  progress  of  these  meas- 
ures, and  of  the  opposition  to  them,  resulting  from  the  obstinate  adher- 
ence of  the  rich  to  their  long-established  habits  of  oppression  and  ex- 
tortion, and  from  the  low  vices  of  falsehood,  hypocrisy,  &c.,  which  have 
naturally  infected  the  poor. 

One  of  the  chief  measures  undertaken  by  Arner  for  ameliorating  the 
physical  condition  of  the  village,  is  the  partition  among  the  landowners 
of  a  certain  common,  into  equal  shares  for  rich  and  poor ;  a  scheme 
promising  material  advantage  to  the  latter,  and  perfectly  fair  to  the  former. 
This  is  bitterly  opposed  by  the  large  landowners,  however;  and  the 
clumsy  cunning  with  which  they  scheme  together  to  prevent  the  partition, 
and  the  energetic  movements  of  Arner  toward  the  accomplishment  of  it, 
form  a  very  curious  and  graphic  picture  of  the  social  life  of  the  villagers 
of  the  period. 

The  feudal  authority  possessed  by  Arner,  however,  is  too  great  to  admit 
of  any  other  than  underhand  and  secret  methods  of  opposition  to  his 
various  reforms ;  and  these  would  necessarily  fail  at  furthest  with  the 
disappearance  of  the  older  generation  from  the  scene,  and  with  the  gradual 
substitution  in  their  places  of  those  growing  up  under  the  influence  of 
the  reformatory  measures  and  better  education  introduced.  But  the 
progress  of  events  renders  it  proper  for  Arner  to  make  application  to  the 
government  for  purposes  connected  with  his  plans,  and  some  meddlesome 


650  LEONARD  AND  GERTRUDE. 

relatives  of  his  take  the  opportunity  to  make  unfavorable  representations 
to  a  conservative  minister,  with  the  design  of  breaking  off  his  enterprise. 
This  the  minister  endeavors  to  do,  from  apprehensions  of  some  revolu- 
tionary contagion  which  is  to  be  spread  among  Arner's  peasantr}r,  thence 
into  the  vicinity,  and  thence  onward.  But  no  serious  injuries  ensued ; 
and  the  whole  result  of  Arner's  undertaking  was,  as  might  be  expected, 
the  beginning  of  a  reform  among  the  younger  portion  of  the  community, 
and  an  increased  degree  of  outward  propriety  among  the  elder. 

The  career  of  Hummel,  the  bailiff,  is  somewhat  elaborately  illustrated 
by  an  episodical  history  of  his  previous  life.  Two  sermons  by  the  pastor, 
though  also  digressions  from  the  thread  of  the  story,  are  not  without  in- 
terest, as  giving  Pestalozzi's  views  of  what  the  spirit  and  methods  of 
popular  education  should  be.  Hummel  himself,  after  undergoing  public 
punishment,  is  exhibited  at  the  close  of  the  work,  with  more  truthfulness 
than  is  usual  in  a  story,  as  relapsing,  so  far  as  his  failing  health  and 
diminished  riches  and  influence  permit,  into  his  old  habits  of  vile  language, 
swindling,  and  bullying. 

But  the  story  comes  to  no  regular  conclusion  at  the  end  of  the  fourth 
volume  ; — it  drops  all  the  threads  of  the  village  life,  suddenly  and  without 
any  gathering  together ;  although  the  first  volume,  which  was  written  a 
year  or  two  before  the  others,  they  being  added  to  it  by  after-thought,  is 
reasonably  complete  as  a  work  of  art. 

The  following  chapters  upon  the  School  in  Bonnal,  are  from  various 
parts  of  the  three  last  volumes ;  and  are  selected  as  furnishing,  in  their 
connected  succession,  a  good  specimen  of  the  style  of  the  remainder  of 
the  work,  and  as  presenting  an  exemplification  of  Pestalozzi's  favorite 
doctrine  of  the  intimate  relation  between  domestic  and  school  instruction. 


THE   SCHOOL   IN   BONNAL." 


1.     A  GOOD  SCHOOL  is  FOUNDED. 

SINCE  the  squire  had  returned  from  Cotton  Meyer's,  he  had  spent  every  mo- 
ment he  could  spare  with  the  lieutenant,  in  consultation  with  him  on  the  organ- 
ization of  the  new  school.  They  both  came  to  the  conclusion  that  a  child  is 
always  well-educated,  when  he  has  learned  to  practice  skillfully,  orderly,  and  to 
the  benefit  of  him  and  his,  what  is  to  be  his  future  occupation. 

This  principal  object  of  all  education  seemed  to  them  at  once  the  first  requi- 
site of  a  reasonable  school  for  human  beings.  And  they  perceived  that  the 
lieutenant,  and  any  person  proposing  to  establish  a  good  school  for  farmers'  and 
factory  children,  must  either  himself  know  and  understand  what  such  children 
need  to  know  and  do,  in  order  to  become  capable  farmers  and  factory  workers ; 
or,  if  he  does  not  himself  understand  it,  that  he  must  inquire  and  learn  about  it, 
and  have  those  at  hand  who  do  know  and  can  show  him. 

They  naturally  thought  first  of  Cotton  Meyer  himself,  and  immediately  after 
this  conversation,  and  their  meal,  they  went  to  him. 

"  This  is  the  man  of  whom  I  have  said  so  much  to  you,"  said  the  squire  to  the 
lieutenant,  and  then,  to  Meyer,  "  And  this  is  a  gentleman  who,  I  hope,  will  en- 
courage you  about  your  school." 

Meyer  did  not  understand;  but  the  squire  explained  to  him,  saying  that  this 
was  to  be  the  schoolmaster  of  the  village. 

Meyer  could  not  sufficiently  wonder  at  this,  and  after  a  time  he  said,  "  If  the 
gentleman  is  willing  to  take  so  much  pains,  we  can  not  thank  him  enough ;  but 
it  will  require  time  to  become  well  acquainted  with  our  condition  and  ways,  in 
the  village." 

Lieutenant.  "I  presume  so;  but  one  must  begin  some  time  or  other ;  and  I 
shall  not  regret  any  pains  I  take  to  examine  as  thoroughly  as  possible  what  is 
needed,  and  what  your  children  can  properly  learn,  in  order  to  be  well-fitted  for 
their  farming  and  manufacturing." 

Meyer.     "That  will  be  an  excellent  beginning." 

Lieut.  "I  do  not  know  how  else  I  ought  to  begin;  and  I  shall  take  every 
opportunity  of  becoming  acquainted  with  all  manner  of  house  and  field  labor, 
so  as  to  learn  correctly  what  training  and  what  example  your  children  need,  in 
order  to  the  right  education  for  their  vocation  and  circumstances." 

Meyer's  Mareieli  was  quite  at  home  with  the  lieutenant.  She  showed  him 
all  about  the  house,  and  in  the  stables,  what  the  children  must  do,  to  learn  to  do 
in  good  order  whatever  was  necessary  for  themselves  and  their  parents  ;  made 
them  dig  in  the  garden  and  throw  earth  hither  and  thither,  to  even  the  ground 
and  improve  its  appearance,  and  adjust  the  edges ;  and  to  scatter  fodder  cor- 
rectly. The  more  he  saw,  the  more  questions  he  asked;  inquired  how  they 

*  From  Part  III.  of  "  Lienhard  and  Gertrud,"  as  extracted  in  Christoffel's  "  Pestalozzi's 
'Lije  and  Views,"  Zurich,  1847. 


652  TIH-:  SCHOOL  IN  BONNAL. 

measured  hay,  reckoned  tithes,  and  kept  account  of  the  cotton  manufacture  ; 
what  was  the  difference  of  wages  in  different  kinds  of  cotton,  and  a  hundred 
other  things.  These  they  explained  to  him  as  far  as  they  could.  Then  he  pro- 
posed to  teach  the  children  how  to  spin.  But  Mareieli  said,  "  "We  take  in  some 
hundred  zentners*  of  yarn  in  a  year,  and  I  have  never  yet  brought  them  to  spin 
right  well.  And  I  can  not  complain  about  it,  either;  for  they  have  to  do  a  good 
deal  in  the  fields  and  about  the  cattle.  But  if  you  desire  to  see  a  good  arrange- 
ment for  the  matter  of  spinning,  you  must  go  to  see  the  mason's  wife.  With 
her,  there  is  something  to  be  seen  on  that  point ;  but  not  with  us." 

Lieut.     "  Is  not  the  mason's  wife,  of  whom  you  speak,  named  Gertrude  ?  " 

Mareieli.     "  It  seems  that  you  know  her  already  ?  " 

Lieut.     "No ;  but  the  squire  had  proposed  to  go  directly  from  you  to  her." 

Mar.     "  "Well;  then  you  will  see  that  I  told  you  correctly." 

2.    A  GOOD  SCHOOL  is  THE  FOUNDATION  OF  ALL  GOOD  FORTUNE. 

Gertrude's  room  was  so  full,  when  they  entered,  that  they  could  scarcely  pass 
between  the  wheels.  Gertrude,  who  had  not  expected  to  see  any  strangers,  told 
the  children,  as  the  door  opened,  to  get  up  and  make  room.  But  the  squire 
would  not  let  one  of  them  move,  but  gave  his  hand  first  to  the  pastor  and  then 
to  the  lieutenant,  to  lead  them  behind  the  children,  next  the  wall,  to  Gertrude's 
table. 

You  could  not  believe  how  much  the  scene  delighted  these  gentlemen.  What 
they  had  seen  with  Cotton  Meyer  seemed  as  nothing,  in  comparison. 

And  very  naturally  Order  and  comfort,  about  a  rich  man,  do  not  surprise. 
We  think,  hundreds  of  others  do  not  do  so  well,  because  they  have  not  money. 
But  happiness  and  comfort  in  a  poor  hut,  showing  so  unanswerably  that  every 
body  in  the  world  could  be  comfortable,  if  they  could  maintain  good  order  and 
were  well  brought  up — this  astonishes  a  well-disposed  mind,  almost  beyond 
power  of  expression. 

But  the  gentlemen  had  a  whole  room  full  of  such  poor  children,  in  the  full 
enjoyment  of  such  blessings,  before  their  eyes.  The  squire  seemed  for  a  time  to 
be  seeing  the  picture  of  the  first-born  of  his  future  better-taught  people,  as  if  in 
a  dream ;  and  the  falcon  eyes  of  the  lieutenant  glanced  hither  and  thither  like 
lightning,  from  child  to  child,  from  hand  to  hand,  from  work  to  work,  from  eye 
to  eye.  The  more  he  saw,  the  fuller  did  his  heart  grow  with  the  thought :  She 
has  done,  and  completely,  what  we  seek ;  the  school  which  we  look  for  is  in 
her  room. 

The  room  was  for  a  time  as  still  as  death.  The  gentlemen  could  do  nothing 
but  gaze  and  gaze,  and  be  silent.  But  Gertrude's  heart  beat  at  the  stillness  and 
at  the  marks  ol  respect  which  the  lieutenant  showed  to  her  during  it,  and  which 
bordered  on  reverence.  The  children  however  spun  away  briskly,  and  laughed 
out  of  their  eyes  to  each  other ;  for  they  perceived  that  the  gentlemen  were  there 
on  their  account,  and  to  see  their  work. 

The  lieutenant's  first  words  to  Gertrude  were,  "  Do  these  children  all  belong 
to  you, mistress?" 

"No,"  said  Gertrude,  "they  are  not  all  mine;"  and  she  then  pointed  out,  one 
after  another,  which  were  hers,  and  which  were  Rudi's. 

"Think  of  it,  lieutenant,"  said  the  pastor,  "  these  children,  who  belong  to  Rudi, 
could  not  spin  one  thread,  four  weeks  ago." 

*  Hundred  weight. 


THE  SCHOOL  IN  BONNAL.  653 

The  lieutenant  looked  at  the  pastor,  and  at  Gertrude,  and  answered,  "  Is  it 
.possible  1 " 

Gertrude.  "  That  is  not  remarkable.  A  child  will  learn  to  spin  right  well  hi 
a  couple  of  weeks.  I  have  known  children  to  learn  it  hi  two  days." 

Squire.  "  It  is  not  that  which  I  am  wondering  at  in  this  room,  but  quite 
another  thing.  These  children  of  other  people,  since  the  three  or  four  weeks 
ago  when  Gertrude  received  them,  have  come  to  look  so  differently,  that  in 
truth  I  scarcely  knew  one  of  them.  Living  death,  and  the  extremest  mis- 
ery, spoke  from  their  faces ;  and  these  are  so  gone  that  no  trace  of  them  is 
left." 

The  lieutenant  replied,  in  French,  "  But  what  does  she  do  to  the  children, 
then?" 

Squire.     "God  knows  I" 

Pastor.  "  If  you  stay  here  all  day,  you  hear  no  tone,  nor  see  any  shadow  of 
any  thing  particular.  It  seems  always,  and  in  every  thing  she  does,  as  if  any 
other  woman  could  do  it;  and  certainly,  the  commonest  wife  would  never  im- 
agine that  Gertrude  was  doing,  or  could  do,  any  thing  which  she  herself  could 
not." 

Lieut.  "  You  could  not  say  more  to  raise  her  in  my  estimation.  That  is  the 
culmination  of  art,  where  men  think  there  is  none  at  all.  The  loftiest  is  so  sim- 
ple that  children  and  boys  think  they  could  do  much  more  than  that." 

As  the  gentlemen  conversed  in  French,  the  children  began  to  look  at  each 
other  and  laugh.  Heireli  and  the  child  who  sat  opposite  to  her  made  mouths 
to  each  other,  as  if  to  say,  "Parlen,  parlen,  parlen." 

Gertrude  only  nodded,  and  all  was  still  in  a  moment.  And  then  the  lieuten- 
ant, seeing  a  book  lying  on  every  wheel,  asked  Gertrude  what  they  were  doing 
with  them." 

Ger.     "  Oh,  they  learn  out  of  them." 

Lieut.     "But,  not  while  they  are  spinning?  " 

Ger.     "  Certainly." 

Lieut.     "  I  want  to  see  that." 

Squire.     "  Yes ;  you  must  show  us  that,  Gertrude." 

Ger.     "  Children,  take  up  your  books  and  learn." 

Children.     "  Loud,  as  we  did  before  ?  " 

Ger.     "  Yes,  loud,  as  you  did  before ;  but  right." 

Then  the  children  opened  then-  books,  and  each  laid  the  appointed  page  before 
'him,  and  studied  the  lesson  which  had  been  set.  But  the  wheels  turned  as  be- 
fore, although  the  children  kept  their  eyes  wholly  on  the  books. 

The  lieutenant  could  not  be  satisfied  with  seeing,  and  desired  her  to  show 
him  every  thing  relating  to  her  management  of  the  children,  and  what  she  taught 
them. 

She  would  have  excused  herself,  and  said  it  was  nothing  at  all  but  what  the 
gcaclenieu  knew,  and  a  thousand  tunes  better  than  she. 

But  the  squire  intimated  to  her  to  proceed.  Then  she  told  the  children 
to  close  their  books,  and  she  taught  them,  by  rote,  a  stanza  from  the  song, 

"  How  beautiful  the  sunbeams'  play, 
And  how  their  soft  and  brilliant  ray 
Delights  and  quickens  all  mankind — 
The  eye,  the  brain,  and  all  the  mind  !  " 


654  'I'HK  SCHOOL  IX   HOXNAL. 

The  third  stanza,  which  they  were  then  learning,  reads  thus : — 

"  The  sun  is  set.    And  thus  goes  down, 
Before  the  Lord  of  Heaven's  frown, 
The  loftiness  and  pride  of  men, 
And  all  is  dusk  and  night  again." 

She  repeated  one  line  at  a  time,  distinctly  and  slowly,  and  the  children  said 
it  after  her,  just  as  slowly,  and  very  distinctly,  and  did  so  over  and  over,  until 
one  said,  "  I  know  it  now."  Then  she  let  that  one  repeat  the  stanza  alone,  and' 
when  he  knew  every  syllable,  she  permitted  him  to  repeat  it  to  the  others,  and 
them  to  repeat  after  him,  until  they  knew  it.  Then  she  began  with  them  all 
three  of  the  stanzas,  of  which  they  had  already  learned  the  first  two.  And 
then  she  showed  the  gentlemen  how  she  taught  them  arithmetic ;  and  her  mode 
was  the  simplest  and  most  practical  that  can  be  imagined. 

But  of  that  I  shall  speak  again  in  another  place. 

3.    RECRUITING  OFFICER'S  DOINGS. 

The  lieutenant  was  every  moment  more  convinced  that  this  was  the  right 
instruction  for  his  school ;  but  he  was  also  convinced  that  he  needed  a  woman 
like  this,  if  the  giving  it  was  to  be  not  merely  possible,  but  actual. 

A  Prussian  recruiting  officer  does  not  contrive  so  many  means  of  getting  into 
the  service  a  fellow  who  comes  up  to  the  standard,  as  the  lieutenant  contrived 
to  decoy  into  his  trap  this  woman,  who  came  up  to  his  standard  in  school 
teaching. 

"But,  mistress."  he  began,  "could  not  the  arrangements  in  your  room  here  be 
introduced  into  a  school  ?  " 

She  thought  a  moment,  and  replied,  "  I  don't  know.  But  it  seems  as  if  what 
is  possible  with  ten  children  is  possible  with  forty.  But  it  would  require  much ; 
and  I  do  not  believe  that  it  would  be  easy  to  find  a  schoolmaster  who  would 
permit  such  an  arrangement  in  his  school." 

Lieut.  "  But  if  you  knew  of  one  who  desired  to  introduce  it,  would  you  help 
him?" 

Ger.     (Laughing.)    "  Yes,  indeed ;  as  much  as  I  could." 

Lieut.     "  And  if  I  am  he  ?" 

Ger.     "Are  what?" 

Lieut.  "  The  schoolmaster,  who  would  be  glad  to  organize  such  a  school  as 
you  have  in  your  room." 

Ger.     "  You  are  no  schoolmaster.' 

Lieut.     "  Yes  I  am.     Ask  the  gentlemen." 

Ger.  "  Yes,  perhaps,  in  a  city,  and  in  something  of  which  we  know  neither 
gigs  nor  gags." 

Lieut.     "  No ;  but,  honestly,  in  a  village." 

Ger.     (Pointing  to  the  wheels.}     "  Of  such  children  ?  " 

Lieut.     "Yes,  of  such  children." 

Ger.  "  It  is  a  long  way  from  me  to  the  place  where  schoolmasters  for  such 
children  look  like  you." 

Lieut.     "Not  so  far." 

Ger.     "  I  think  it  is." 

Lieut.     "But  you  will  help  me,  if  I  undertake  to  organize  my  school  in  that 


way  ?  " 

Ger.     "  If  it  is  far  away,  I  will  not  go  with  you. 


THE  SCHOOL  IN  BONNAL.  Q-r 

Lieut.     "  I  shall  remain  here." 

G&r.     "  And  keep  school  ?  " 

Lieut.     "  Yes." 

G&r.     "  Here  in  the  room  ?  " 

Lieut.     "No;  in  the  school-room." 

G&r.     "You  would  be  sorry,  if  you  should  be  taken  at  your  word." 

Lieut.     ''  But  you  still  more,  if  you  should  have  to  help  me." 

G&r.     "No;  it  would  please  me." 

Lieut.     (;  You  have  said  twice  that  you  would  help  me." 

G&r.     "I  have — and  I  say  so  three  times,  if  you  are  our  schoolmaster." 

Here  he  and  the  other  gentlemen  began  to  laugh;  and  the  squire  said  "Yes, 
Gertrude :  he  is  certainly  your  schoolmaster." 

This  perplexed  her.     She  blushed,  and  did  not  know  what  to  say. 

Lieut.     "  What  makes  you  so  silent  ?  " 

G&r.  "I  think  it  would  have  been  well  if  I  had  been  as  silent  for  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  back." 

Lieut.     "Why?" 

G&r.     "  How  can  I  help  you,  if  you  are  a  schoolmaster  ?  " 

Lieut.     "You  are  looking  for  excuses ;  but  I  shall  not  let  you  go." 

G&r.     "  I  will  beg  you." 

Lieut.  "It  will  be  of  no  use;  if  you  had  promised  to  marry  me,  you  must 
abide  by  the  promise." 

G&r.     "  No,  indeed  1 " 

Lieut.     "  Yes,  indeed  I  " 

G&r.     "  It  is  out  of  the  question." 

Squire.  "  If  there  is  any  thing  which  you  know,  Gertrude,  do  it  as  well  as  you 
can ;  he  will  not  ask  any  thing  more ;  but,  whatever  you  do  to  help  him,  you 
will  do  to  help  me." 

G&r.  "  I  will,  very  willingly ;  but  you  see  my  room  full  of  children,  and  how 
I  am  tied  down.  But,  with  regard  to  advice  and  help  in  matters  relating  to 
work,  which  a  gentleman  naturally  can  not  understand,  I  know  a  woman  who 
understands  them  much  better  than  I ;  and  she  can  do  whatever  I  can  not." 

Squire.     "Arrange it  as  you  can;  but  give  him  your  hand  on  the  bargain." 

4.    A  PROUD  SCHOOLMASTER. 

The  new  condition  of  affairs  raised  the  courage  of  the  pastor,  who  had  been 
almost  in  the  state  of  a  slave  under  the  old  squire ;  and  his  acquaintance  with 
the  son  contributed  much  toward  accomplishing  his  ancient  plans.  On  the 
next  Sunday  he  explained  to  the  people  some  chapters  of  the  Bible ;  and,  at  the 
end  of  the  service,  called  for  whatever  else  was  to  be  done.  Then  the  squire 
took  the  lieutenant  by  the  hand,  and  told  him  to  say  himself  to  the  congrega- 
tion what  he  desired  to  do  for  their  children. 

The  lieutenant  arose,  bowed  to  the  squire,  the  pastor,  and  the  congregation, 
took  off  his  hat,  leaned  on  his  stick,  and  said : — "  I  have  been  brought  up 
with  a  nobleman,  and  am  myself  a  nobleman ;  but  I  am  not  for  that  reason 
ashamed  to  serve  God  and  my  follow-men  in  the  situation  which  Providence 
calls  me ;  and  I  thank  my  dear  parents,  now  under  the  ground,  for  the  good  ed- 
ucation they  gave  me,  and  which  enables  me  now  to  put  your  school  on  such  a 
footing  that,  if  God  will,  your  children  shall  all  their  lives  be  respected  for  hav- 
ing attended  it.  But  it  is  not  my  business  to  make  long  speeches  and  sermons ; 


(u-r.  THE  SCHOOL  IN  BON.N'AL 

but,  if  it  please  God,  I  will  begin  my  school  instruction  to-morrow,  and  then 
every  thing  will  be  made  plain.  Only  I  will  say  that  each  child  should  bring  hia 
work,  whether  sewing,  or  spinning  cotton,  or  whatever  it  be,  and  the  instruments 
for  the  same,  until  the  squire  shall  purchase  such  for  the  school." 

"  And  what  will  he  do  with  spinning- wheels  in  the  school  ?  "  said  men  and 
women  to  each  other  in  all  their  seats,  and  one,  behind  him,  so  loud  that  he 
heard  it. 

The  lieutenant  turned  round,  and  said  aloud,  "Nothing,  except  to  make  the 
children  learn  to  read  and  cipher,  of  each  other." 

This  the  farmers  could  not  get  into  their  heads  how  the  scholars  could  learn 
to  read  and  cipher  of  each  other ;  and  many  of  them  said,  at  the  church-door, 
"  It  will  be  with  him  as  it  was  with  the  madder-plants,  and  the  beautiful  sheep 
that  the  old  squire  had  brought  from  two  hundred  leagues  away,  and  then  let 
them  die  miserably  at  their  fodder."  But  some  older  and  experienced  men  said, 
"  He  does  not  look  at  all  like  the  madder-plants ;  and  has  not  the  appearance 
of  a  man  who  talks  carelessly." 

That  evening  the  lieutenant  went  into  the  school-room,  and  nailed  up,  imme- 
diately opposite  to  where  he  was  going  to  sit,  a  beautiful  engraving.  This  rep- 
resented an  old  man,  with  a  long  white  beard,  who,  with  wrinkled  brow,  and 
eyes  wide  open,  lifted  up  his  finger. 

The  squire  and  the  pastor  said,  "What  is  that  for  ?  " 

LieuL  "  He  is  to  say  to  me, '  Gluelphi,  swear  not,  while  you  sit  there  before 
mel'" 

They  replied,  "  Then  we  will  not  pull  him  down,  he  fills  too  important  a 
,  place." 

Lieut.     "I  have  been  considering  about  it." 

5.    SCHOOL  ORGANIZATION. 

Next  morning,  the  lieutenant  began  with  his  school.  But  I  should  not  read- 
ily recommend  any  other  schoolmaster  to  do  what  he  did,  and  after  such  a  Sun- 
day's proclamation,  which  was  considered  proud  by  every  body,  then  cause  his 
school  to  be  put  in  order  by  a  farmer's  wife.  Still,  if  he  be  a  Gluelphi,  he  may 
do  it,  and  it  will  not  injure  him ;  but  I  mean  a  real  Gluelphi,  not  a  pretended 
one. 

He  let  Gertrude  put  the  children  in  order,  just  as  if  she  had  them  at  home. 

She  divided  them  according  to  age,  and  the  work  they  had,  as  they  could  best 
be  put  together ;  and  placed  her  own  and  Rudi's  children,  who  were  already 
accustomed  to  her  management,  between  others.  In  front,  next  the  table,  she 
put  those  who  did  not  know  their  A,  B,  C ;  next  behind  them,  those  who  were 
to  spell;  then  those  who  could  read  a  little,  and  last  those  who  could  read  fluently. 
Then,  for  the  first  row,  she  put  only  three  letters  on  the  blackboard,  and  taught 
them  to  them.  Whichever  knew  them  best  then  was  to  name  them  aloud,  and 
the  others  were  to  repeat  them  after  him.  Then  she  changed  the  order  of  the 
letters,  wrote  them  larger  and  smaller,  and  so  left  them  before  their  eyes,  all  the 
morning.  In  like  manner  she  wrote  up  several  letters,  for  the  scholars  who 
were  learning  to  spell,  and  those  who  could  read  a  little  had  to  spell  with  these 
letters.  But  these,  as  well  as  those  who  could  read  fluently,  were  to  have  their 
books  always  open  by  their  spinning-wheels,  and  to  repeat  in  a  low  tone  of  voice 
after  one  who  read  aloud.  And  every  moment  they  were  saying  to  that  one 
'  Go  on." 


THE  SCHOOL  IN  BONNAL.  (557 

For  the  work,  Gertrude  had  brought  a  woman  with  her,  named  Margaret, 
who  was  to  come  to  the  school  every  day ;  as  Gertrude  had  no  time  for  that 
purpose. 

This  Margaret  understood  her  business  so  well  that  it  would  not  be  easy  to 
find  another  like  her.  As  soon  as  any  child's  hand,  or  wheel,  was  still,  she 
stepped  up  to  him,  and  did  not  leave  him  until  all  was  going  on  in  good  order 
again. 

Most  of  the  children  carried  home  that  evening  so  much  work,  that  their 
mothers  did  not  believe  they  had  done  it  alone.  But  many  of  the  children  an- 
swered, "  Yes ;  it  makes  a  difference  whether  Margaret  shows  us,  or  you."  And 
in  like  manner  they  praised  the  lieutenant,  their  schoolmaster. 

In  the  afternoon  he  conducted  the  school,  and  Gertrude  watched  him,  as  lie 
had  her  in  the  morning;  and  things  went  so  well  that  she  said  to  him,  "If  I 
had  known  that  I  could  finish  all  my  work  in  helping  you  organize  the  school 
in  a  couple  of  hours,  I  should  not  have  been  so  troubled  on  Thursday." 

And  he  was  himself  pleased  that  things  went  so  well. 

That  evening  he  gave  to  each  of  the  children  over  seven  years  old,  a  couple 
of  sheets  of  paper,  stitched  together,  and  a  couple  of  pens ;  and  each  child  found 
his  name  written  thereon  as  beautifully  as  print.  They  could  not  look  at  them 
enough ;  and  one  after  another  asked  him  how  they  were  to  be  used.  He 
showed  them ;  and  wrote  for  them,  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  such  great  letters 
that  they  looked  as  if  they  were  printed.  They  would  have  watched  him  until 
morning,  it  seemed  so  beautiful  to  them,  and  they  kept  asking  him  if  they  were 
to  learn  to  do  the  same. 

He  answered,  "  The  better  you  learn  to  write,  the  better  I  shall  be  pleased." 
At  dismissal,  he  told  them  to  take  care  of  their  paper,  and  to  stick  the  points  of 
their  pens  into  rotten  apples ;  for  that  was  the  very  best  way  to  keep  them. 

"To  this,  many  of  the  children  answered,  "Yes,  that  would  be  nice,  if  we 
had  any  rotten  apples;  but  it  is  not  winter  now." 

At  this  he  laughed,  and  said,  "  If  you  have  none,  perhaps  I  can  get  them  for 
you.  The  pastor's  wife  has  certainly  more  than  she  wants." 

But  other  children  said,  " No,  no;  we  will  get  some,  we  have  some  yet." 

6.    SCHOOL  ORGANIZATION — CONTINUED. 

The  children  all  ran  home,  hi  order  quickly  to  show  their  beautiful  writing  to 
tneir  parents ;  and  they  praised  the  schoolmaster  and  Margaret,  as  much  as  they 
could.  But  many  answered,  "  Yes,  yes ;  new  brooms  sweep  clean ;  "  or  some 
such  singular  expression,  so  that  the  children  did  not  understand  what  they 
meant.  This  troubled  the  good  children,  but  still  they  did  not  cease  to  be 
pleased ;  and  if  their  parents  took  no  pleasure  in  their  beautiful  writing,  they 
showed  it  to  whomever  they  could,  to  their  little  brothers  in  the  cradle,  and  to 
the  cat  on  the  table ;  and  took  such  care  of  them  as  they  had  never  in  their 
lives  taken  of  any  thing  before.  And  if  the  little  brother  reached  out  his  hand, 
or  the  cat  its  paw,  after  them,  they  quickly  drew  them  back,  and  said,  "  You 
must  only  look  at  it  with  your  eyes ;  not  touch  it."  Some  of  them  put  theirs 
away  in  the  Bible.  Others  said  they  could  not  open  such  a  great  book,  and  put 
them  in  a  chest,  among  the  most  precious  things  they  had.  Their  joy  at  going 
to  school  again  was  so  great  that  the  next  morning  many  of  them  got  up  almost 
before  day,  and  called  their  mothers  to  get  them  quickly  something  to  eat,  so 
that  they  might  get  to  school  in  good  season.  On  Friday,  when  the  new  writ- 

42 


658  THE  SCHOOL  IN  BONNAL. 

ing-benches,  which  the  squire  had  had  made,  were  ready,  their  pleasure  was  very 
invat.  During  the  first  lesson,  they  would  all  sit  together:  but  the  lieutenant 
divided  them  into  four  classes,  in  order  that  there  should  not  be  too  many  of 
them,  and  that  none  should  escape  him,  and  none  could  make  a  single  mark  that 
he  did  not  see. 

In  this  study  also,  most  of  the  children  did  very  well.  Some  learned  so  easi- 
ly, that  it  seemed  to  come  to  them  of  itself;  and  others,  again,  did  weD,  because 
they  had  been  more  in  the  habit  of  doing  things  that  required  attention.  Some, 
however,  who  had  never  had  very  much  in  their  hands  except  the  spoon  with 
which  they  ate,  found  great  difficulties.  Some  learned  arithmetic  very  easily, 
who  found  writing  very  hard,  and  who  held  the  pen  as  if  their  hands  had  been 
crippled.  And  there  were  some  young  loafers  among  them,  who  had  all  their 
lives  scarcely  done  any  thing  except  run  about  the  streets  and  fields,  and  who, 
nevertheless,  learned  almost  every  thing  far  quicker  than  the  rest. 

So  it  is  in  the  world.  The  most  worthless  fellows  have  the  best  natural  en- 
dowments, and  usually  exceed,  in  intelligence  and  capacity,  those  who  do  not 
wander  about  so  much,  but  sit  at  home  at  their  work.  And  the  arithmeticians 
among  the  farmers  are  usually  to  be  found  at  the  tavern. 

The  schoolmaster  found  these  poor  children  generally  much  more  capable, 
both  in  body  and  in  mind,  than  he  had  expected. 

For  this  there  is  also  a  good  reason.  Need  and  poverty  make  men  more  re- 
fiective  and  shrewd  than  riches  and  superfluity,  and  teach  him  to  make  the 
best  use  of  every  thing  that  will  bring  him  bread. 

Grluelphi  made  so  much  use  of  this  fact,  that,  in  every  thing  he  did,  and  in  al- 
most every  word  he  used,  in  the  school,  he  had  the  distinct  purpose  of  making 
use  of  this  basis  laid  down  by  nature  herself,  for  the  education  of  the  poor  and 
of  countrymen.  He  was  so  strenuous,  even,  about  the  sweat  of  daily  labor, 
that  he  claimed  that  whatever  can  be  done  for  a  man,  makes  him  useful,  or  reli- 
able for  skill,  only  so  far  as  he  has  acquired  his  knowledge  and  skill  in  the  sweat 
of  his  years  of  study ;  and  that,  where  this  is  wanting,  the  art  and  knowledge 
of  men  is  like  a  mass  of  foam  in  the  sea,  which  often  looks,  at  a  distance,  like  a 
rock  rising  out  of  the  abyss,  but  which  falls  as  soon  as  wind  and  wave  attack  it. 
Therefore,  he  said,  in  education,  thorough  and  strict  training  to  the  vocation 
must  necessarily  precede  all  instruction  by  words. 

He  also  maintained  a  close  connection  between  this  training  to  a  vocation 
and  training  in  manners,  and  asserted  that  the  manners  of  every  condition 
and  trade,  and  even  of  the  place  or  country  of  a  man's  abode,  are  so  important 
to  him,  that  the  happiness  and  peace  of  all  his  life  depends  on  them.  Training 
to  good  manners  was  thus  also  a  chief  object  of  his  school  organization.  He 
would  have  his  school-room  as  clean  as  a  church.  He  would  not  even  let  a  pane 
be  out  of  the  windows,  or  a  nail  be  wrongly  driven  in  the  floor;  and  still  less 
would  he  permit  the  children  to  throw  any  thing  on  the  floor,  eat  during  study, 
or  any  thing  else  of  the  kind.  He  preserved  strict  order,  even  in  the  least 
thing ;  and  arranged  so  that,  even  in  sitting  down  and  rising  up,  the  children 
would  not  hit  against  each  other. 

In  muddy  weather  they  were  made  to  leave  their  shoes  at  the  door,  and  sit  in 
then-  stockings.  And  if  their  coats  were  muddy,  they  had  to  dry  them  in  the 
sun,  or  at  the  stove,  as  the  case  might  be,  and  clean  them.  He  himself  cut  their 
nails  for  many  of  them,  and  put  the  hair  of  almost  all  the  boys  in  good  order ; 


THE  SCHOOL  iX  BOXXAL. 


659 


and  whenever  any  one  went  from  writing  to  working,  he  was  obliged  to  wash 
his  hands.  They  had,  likewise,  to  rinse  out  their  mouths  at  proper  times,  and 
take  care  of  their  teeth,  and  see  that  their  breath  was  not  foul.  All  these  were 
things  they  knew  nothing  about. 

When  they  came  into  the  school  and  went  out,  they  stepped  up  to  him,  one 
after  the  other,  and  said  to  him,  "God  be  with  you."  Then  he  looked  at  them 
from  head  to  foot,  and  looked  at  them  so  that  they  knew  by  his  eye,  without  his 
saying  a  word,  if  there  was  any  thing  wrong  about  them.  But  if  this  look  did 
not  serve  to  set  things  right,  he  spoke  to  them.  When  he  saw  that  the  parents 
were  to  blame  for  any  thing,  he  sent  a  message  to  them  ;  and,  not  uncommonly, 
a  child  came  home  to  its  mother  with  the  message,  "  You,  the  schoolmaster 
sends  his  respects,  and  asks  whether  you  have  no  needles,  or  no  thread  ;  or  if 
water  is  expensive  with  you,"  and  the  like. 

Margaret  was  as  if  she  had  been  made  on  purpose  to  help  him  about  these 
things.  If  a  child's  hair  was  not  in  good  order,  she  placed  it  with  its  spinning- 
wheel  before  her,  and  braided  it  up  while  the  child  studied  and  worked.  Most 
of  them  did  not  know  how  to  fasten  their  shoes  or  their  stockings.  All  these 
things  she  showed  them ;  adjusted  their  neckcloths  and  aprons,  if  they  were 
wrong,  and,  if  she  saw  a  hole  in  their  clothes,  took  a  needle  and  thread  and 
mended  it.  At  about  the  close  of  the  school,  she  went  through  the  room,  prais- 
ing or  blaming  the  children,  as  they  had  worked  well,  half-well,  or  ill.  Those 
who  had  done  well,  then  went  first  up  to  the  schoolmaster,  and  said  to  him, 
"  God  be  with  you,"  and  he  then  held  out  his  hand  to  them  and  replied,  "  God 
be  with  you,  you  dear  child ! "  Those  who  had  done  only  half- well,  camet 
then  to  him;  and  to  them  he  only  said,  "God  be  with  you,"  without  holding- 
out  his  hand  to  them.  Lastly,  those  who  had  not  done  well  at  all  had  to  leave- 
the  room  before  the  others,  without  daring  to  go  to  him  at  all. 

If  one  of  them  came  too  late,  he  found  the  door  shut,  like  the  gate  ot  a  fbr-- 
tress  that  is  closed.  Whether  then  he  cried  or  not,  made  no  difference ;  the- 
master  said  to  him,  briefly,  "  Go  home  "again,  now ;  it  will  do  you  good  to  think, 
a  long  time  about  it.  Every  thing  that  is  done  must  be  done  at  the  right  time,, 
or  else  it  is  as  if  it  is  not  done  at  all." 

7.    GOD'S  WORD  is  THE  TRUTH. 

Thus,  every  word  he  said,  was  intended,  by  constantly  accustoming  the  chil- 
dren to  what  they  would  in  future  have  to  say  and  do,  to  lead  them  into  true 
wisdom  in  life ;  for  he  endeavored,  with  every  word,  to  plant  deep  in  their 
minds  such  a  foundation  of  equanimity  and  peace,  as  every  man  can  possess  ia 
all  circumstances,  if  the  difficulties  of  his  lot  are  early  made  to  be  another  na- 
ture to  him.  And  this  is  the  central  point  of  the  difference  between  his  mode 
of  instructing  the  children,  and  that  of  other  schoolmasters. 

The  efficiency  of  his  labors  soon  convinced  the  pastor  of  Bonnal  of  the  im 
portance  of  that  distinction  ;  and  caused  him  to  see  that  all  verbal  instruction, 
so  far  as  it  aims  at  true  human  wisdom,  and  that  highest  end  of  this  wisdom, 
true  religion,  must  undoubtedly  be  subordinated  to  constant  exercises  in  useful 
domestic  labor ;  and  that  that  mouth-religion  which  consists  in  memory-work 
and  controversial  opinions  may  be  forgotten,  as  soon  as,  by  constant  exercises 
in  useful  practical  exertion,  a  better  foundation  is  laid  for  good  and  noble  aspi- 
rations ;  that  is.  for  true  wisdom  and  true  religion. 


THE  SCHOOL  IN  BONNAL. 

But  the  pastor  saw  that  he  himself  knew  little  of  any  such  management  of 
men,  and  that  the  lieutenant,  and  even  Margaret,  accomplished  more  in  that  di- 
rection than  he  did  by  preaching  for  hours,  or  by  doing  whatever  else  he  could. 
He  was  ashamed  of  himself  in  the  comparison,  but  he  aided  their  undertaking, 
learned  from  both  of  them  whatever  he  could,  and,  in  every  thing  which  he 
taught  his  children,  founded  upon  what  the  lieutenant  and  Margaret  practiced. 
But  in  proportion  as  these  latter  accustomed  their  children  to  useful  labor,  so 
much  did  he  shorten  his  verbal  instructions. 

This  he  would  gladly  have  done  long  before ;  but  he  did  not  know  how  to 
begin  it,  or  how  to  continue  it.  He  had  indeed  dreamed  of  what  the  lieutenant 
and  Margaret  were  doing ;  but  he  could  not  deprive  his  children  of  such  bene- 
fits as  were  derivable  from  the  old  system  of  instruction,  for  the  sake  of  mere 
dreams  of  what  he  could  not  execute.  But  now  that  he  saw  a  better  truth, 
and  the  advantage  of  practice  in  doing  over  practice  in  teaching,  he  followed 
after  that  better  truth,  and  in  his  age  made  giant  strides  in  the  change  of  his 
method  of  popular  instruction. 

From  this  time  forward  he  permitted  his  children  to  learn  no  more  dogmas  by 
rote — such,  for  example,  as  those  apples  of  discord,  the  questions  which  for  two 
hundred  years  have  split  good  Christians  into  so  many  parties,  and  which  cer- 
tainly, for  country  people,  have  not  made  easier  the  way  to  everlasting-  life;  for 
In-  was  every  moment  more  convinced  that  man  loses  little  or  nothing  by  losing 
mere  words. 

But  while  he,  like  Luther,  with  the  help  of  God,  struck  down  the  foolish  verb- 
iage of  a  mere  mouth-religion,  still  he  did  not  serve  up  instead  of  it  a  new  one 
of  the  same  kind,  one  of  his  own  instead  of  the  strange  one ;  but  united  his  of- 
forts  with  those  of  the  lieutenant  and  Margaret,  to  train  his  children,  without 
many  words,  to  a  peaceful  and  laborious  life  in  their  vocations ;  by  constantly 
accustoming  them  to  a  wise  mode  of  life,  to  stop  up  the  sources  of  ignoble, 
shameful,  and  disorderly  practices,  and  in  this  manner  to  lay  the  foundations  of 
a  quiet  and  silent  habit  of  worship  of  God,  and  of  a  pure,  active,  and  equally 
and  silent  benevolence  to  men. 

To  attain  this  end,  he  based  every  word  of  his  brief  instructions  in  religion 
upon  the  doings  and  omissions  of  the  children,  their  circumstances  and  duties 
in  life ;  so  that,  when  he  talked  with  them  of  God  and  eternity,  he  seemed  to  be 
speaking  of  father  and  mother,  of  house  and  home — of  things  closely  connected 
with  tliis  world. 

He  pointed  out  to  them  with  his  own  hand  the  few  wise  and  pious  portions 
which  they  were  still  made  to  learn  by  rote  from  the  book.  Of  the  rest  of  the 
prolix,  quarrelsome  gabble,  which  he  desired  to  empty  out  of  their  brains,  as 
the  summer  melts  away  the  winter  snow,  he  saved  nothing  at  all ;  and  if 
any  one  began  to  talk  to  him  about  it,  he  said  that  he  saw  more  clearly  every 
day  that  it  was  not  good  for  men  to  have  heads  filled  up  with  too  many  whys 
and  wherefores,  and  that  daily  experience  showed  that,  just  in  proportion  as 
men  carried  about  such  whys  and  wherefores  in  their  heads,  they  lost  in  their 
degree  of  natural  understanding,  and  the  daily  usefulness  of  their  hands  and 
feet.  And  he  no  longer  permitted  any  child  to  learn  a  long  prayer  by  heart ; 
saying  openly  that  it  was  contrary  to  the  express  spirit  of  Christianity,  and  to 
the  command  which  the  Saviour  gave  to  his  disciples,  "But  thou  when  thou 
prayest,"  &c. 


THE  SCFIOOL  IN  BONNAL.  g(3| 

8.    To  BE  AS  GOOD  AS  A  MAN  CAN  BE,  HE  MUST  APPEAR  BAD. 

The  best  thing  about  him  was,  that  he  said  plainly,  all  that  he  did,  "  If  I  had 
not  seen  the  lieutenant  and  Margaret  doing  this  in  their  school-room  with  the 
children,  I  should  have  remained,  as  to  their  instruction,  even  until  death,  the 
old  pastor  in  Bonnal,  without  any  change,  just  as  I  have  been  for  thirty  years. 
T  was  not  in  a  condition  to  undertake  the  chief  parts  of  the  true  instruction  of 
these  children ;  and  all  that  I  can  do  for  it,  even  now,  is  this :  not  to  lay  any 
hindrance  in  the  way  of  the  lieutenant  and  Margaret." 

He  was  quite  right ;  for  of  the  ordinary  employments  of  men,  and  of  most 
things  upon  which  the  lieutenant  based  his  proceedings,  he  knew  nothing  what- 
ever. He  both  knew  men,  and  did  not  know  them.  He  could  describe  them 
in  such  a  way  that  you  would  have  to  say,  "  Yes,  they  are  thus."  But  he  did 
not  know  them  so  that  he  could  mingle  with  them,  and  correct  or  accomplish 
any  thing  about  them.  And  the  lieutenant  often  told  him  directly  that  he  was 
not  capable  of  accomplishing  any  real  reform  amongst  men ;  that  he  would  only 
destroy  them  with  his  goodness.  For  how  kind  soever  the  lieutenant  might 
seem  always,  no  one  could  easily  have  stricter  principles  of  education  than  he. 

He  openly  maintained,  that  "  Love  is  useless  in  the  training  of  men,  except 
behind  or  by  the  side  of  fear.  For  they  must  learn  to  root  up  thorns  and  this- 
tles ;  and  men  could  never  do  that  willingly,  never  of  themselves,  but  only  when 
they  are  obliged,  or  have  become  accustomed  to.  One  who  would  set  any  thing 
right  with  men,  or  bring  them  up  to  any  proposed  point,  must  gain  the  mastery 
of  their  evil  qualities,  must  follow  up  their  falsehood,  and  must  make  them  sweat 
with  pain,  for  their  crooked  ways.  The  education  of  men  is  nothing  except  the 
polishing  of  single  members  of  the  great  chain  by  which  all  humanity  is  bound 
together.  Faults  in  the  education  and  guidance  of  men  consist  mostly  in  this, 
that  we  take  single  links  out  of  the  chain  and  undertake  to  ornament  them,  as 
if  they  were  isolated,  and  were  not  links  belonging  to  that  great  chain ;  and 
as  if  the  power  and  usefulness  of  that  single  member  depended  upon  its  being 
gilded,  or  silvered,  or  set  with  precious  stones ;  and  not  upon  its  being  well-knit 
to  its  next  neighbors  without  any  weakening,  and  being  strongly  and  pliantly 
adapted  to  the  daily  vibrations  of  the  whole  chain,  and  to  all  its  movements." 

Thus  spoke  the  man  whose  strength  consisted  in  his  knowledge  of  the  world, 
to  the  clergyman,  whose  weakness  consisted  in  his  ignorance  of  it. 

But  it  was  the  labor  of  the  life  of  the  former  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of 
men ;  and  he  always  felt  gratitude  to  his  deceased  father,  for  having  made  this 
his  design  from  youth  up.  His  father  had  thought  many  men  good  who  were 
not,  by  reason  of  insufficient  knowledge  with  them  ;  and  the  sorrow  therefrom 
resulting  cost  him  his  life.  A  few  days  before  his  death,  he  called  Gluelphi, 
then  eleven  years  old,  to  his  bedside,  and  said,  "  Child,  trust  no  one,  all  your  life, 
until  you  have  experience  of  him.  Men  betray  and  are  betrayed ;  but  to  know 
them,  is  worth  gold.  Respect  them,  but  trust  them  not ;  and  let  it  be  your 
daily  task  to  write  down  every  evening  what  you  have  seen  and  heard." 

And  therewith  the  last  tears  came  from  his  eyes,  and  soon  they  were  closed. 
And  from  that  day,  Gluelphi  had  not  omitted,  any  evening,  to  follow  the  death- 
bed advice  of  his  father.  He  had  also  preserved  all  his  written  records,  from 
youth.  They  are  to  him  a  treasure  of  knowledge  of  human  nature ;  and  he 
calls  them  by  no  name  except  the  good  bequest  of  his  dear  deceased  father ; 


602  THE  SCHOOL  IN  BONNAL. 

•nd  ho  often  moistens  them  with  tears.  They  make  a  thousand  heavy  hours 
pleasant  to  him,  and  have  been,  in  his  school  also,  a  guide  which  has  quickly  led 
him  to  the  object  he  has  desired. 

He  knew  the  children  in  a  week,  better  than  their  parents  in  seven  years ; 
and,  according  to  his  principles,  set  himself  to  make  them  sweat  for  pain  if  they 
undertook  to  keep  any  thing  secret  from  him,  and  especially  to  keep  their  hearts 
always  open  to  his  eyes. 

9.-    HE  WHO   SEPARATES  THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  ARITHMETIC  AND  OF  SUSCEPTI- 
BILITY TO  TRUTH,  PUTS  ASUNDER  WHAT  GOD  HAS  JOINED. 

But  how  much  soever  he  cared  for  the  hearts  of  his  children,  he  took  as  much 
care  for  their  heads ;  and  required  whatever  went  into  them  should  be  as  clear 
and  comprehensible  as  the  silent  moon  in  the  heavens.  He  said,  "  Nothing  can 
be  called  teaching,  which  does  not  proceed  in  that  principle ;  what  is  obscure, 
and  deceives,  and  makes  confused,  is  not,  teaching,  but  perverting  the  mind." 

This  perversion  of  the  mind,  in  his  children,  he  guarded  against,  by  teaching 
them,  above  all,  to  see  and  hear  closely ;  and  by  laboriously  and  industriously 
teaching  them  habits  of  cool  observation,  and  at  the  same  time  by  strengthening 
in  them  the  natural  capacity  which  every  man  possesses.  To  this  end,  he  prac- 
ticed them  especially  in  arithmetic ;  in  which  he  carried  them  so  far,  within  a 
year,  that  they  very  soon  yawned  if  any  one  began  to  talk  to  them  about  the 
wonderful  puzzles  with  which  Hartknopf 's  friends  so  easily  astonished  the  rest 
of  the  people  in  the  village. 

So  true  is  it,  that  the  way  to  lead  men  away  from  error  is,  not  to  oppose  their 
folly  with  words,  but  to  destroy  the  spirit  ot  it  within  them.  To  describe  the 
night,  and  the  dark  colors  of  its  shadows,  does  not  help  you  see ;  it  is  only  by 
lighting  a  lamp,  that  you  can  show  what  the  night  was ;  it  is  only  by  couching 
a  cataract,  that  you  can  show  what  the  blindness  has  become.  Correct  seeing 
and  correct  hearing  is  the  first  step  toward  living  wisely  ;  and  arithmetic  is  the 
means  by  which  nature  guards  us  from  error  in  our  searches  after  truth ;  the 
basis  of  peace  and  prosperity,  which  children  can  secure  for  their  manhood  only 
by  thoughtful  and  careful  pursuit  of  their  employments. 

For  such  reasons,  the  lieutenant  thought  nothing  so  important  as  a  right 
training  of  his  children  in  arithmetic;  and  he  said,  "  A  man's  mind  will  not 
proceed  well,  unless  it  gains  the  habitude  of  apprehending  and  adhering  to  the 
truth,  either  by  means  of  much  experience,  or  of  arithmetical  practice,  which 
will  in  great  part  supply  the  place  of  that  habitude." 

But  his  methods  of  teaching  them  arithmetic  are  too  extended  to  be  given 
here. 

10.    A  SURE  MEANS  AGAINST  MEAN  AND  LYING  SLANDERS. 

In  this  matter  also  he  succeeded  with  the  children  as  he  desired ;  and  it  could 
not  but  happen  that  one,  who  accomplished  so  much  for  them,  should  become 
dear  to  many  people.  But  it  was  far  from  being  the  case  that  all  were  satisfied 
with  him.  The  chief  charge  against  him  was,  that  he  was  too  proud  for  a 
schoolmaster,  and  would  not  talk  with  the  people  at  all.  He  said  one  thing  and 
another  to  defend  himself,  and  tried  to  make  them  understand  that  he  was  using 
his  time  and  his  lungs  for  their  children ;  but  the  farmers  said  that,  notwith- 
standing all  that,  he  might  stop  a  moment  or  two  when  any  one  wanted  to  say 
something  to  him ;  and,  if  pride  did  not  prevent  him,  he  would. 


THE  SCHOOL  IN  BONN  A  L. 


663 


All  the  children,  to  be  sure,  contradicted  their  parents  in  this,  and  said  that  he 
certainly  was  not  proud,  but  they  replied,  "  He  may  be  good  to  you,  and  may 
be  proud  nevertheless." 

But  the  rainy  weather,  in  the  third  week  of  his  school-keeping,  accomplished 
for  him,  what  the  good  children  could  not  do,  with  all  their  talking. 

It  was  an  established  principle  in  Bonnal,  that  an  old  bridge,  in  front  of  the 
school-house,  decayed  for  twenty  years,  should  not  be  replaced ;  and  so,  when- 
ever it  rained  for  two  days  together,  the  children  had  to  get  wetted  almost  to 
their  knees,  to  get  to  the  school.  But  the  first  time  that  Gluelphi  found  the 
street  so  deep  in  water,  he  stood  out  in  the  street,  as  soon  as  the  children  came, 
in  the  middle  of  the  rain,  and  lifted  them,  one  after  another,  over  the  stream. 

This  looked  very  funny  to  a  couple  of  men  and  their  wives,  who  lived  just 
opposite  the  school-house,  and  who  were  exactly  those  who  had  complained 
most  that  his  pride  would  scarcely  let  him  say  good  day  and  good  night  to  peo- 
ple. They  found  great  pleasure  in  seeing  him  get  wet  through  and  through,  in 
his  red  coat,  and  thought  he  would  never  keep  at  it  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and 
expected  every  moment  that  he  would  call  out  to  them  to  know  whether  no- 
body was  coming  to  help  him.  But  when  he  continued  right  on  with  his  work, 
just  as  if  not  even  a  cat  lived  any  where  near  him,  not  to  say  a  man,  and  was 
dripping  wet,  clothes  and  hair,  and  all  over,  and  still  showed  no  shadow  of  im- 
patience, but  kept  carrying  over  one  child  after  another,  they  began  to  say,  be- 
hind their  windows,  "  He  must  be  a  good-natured  fool,  after  all,  to  keep  it  up  so 
long,  and  we  seem  to  have  been  mistaken  about  him.  If  he  had  been  proud, 
he  would  certainly  have  stopped  long  ago." 

At  last  they  crept  out  of  their  holes,  and  went  out  to  him,  and  said,  "  We  did 
not  see,  before,  that  you  were  taking  so  much  trouble,  or  we  would  have  come 
out  to  you  sooner.  Go  home  and  dry  yourself;  we  will  carry  the  children  over. 
"We  can  bear  the  rain  better  than  you.  And,  before  school  is  out,  we  will  bring 
a  couple  of  planks,  too,  so  that  there  shall  be  a  bridge  here,  as  there  used  to  be." 

This  they  did  not  say  merely,  but  did  it.  Before  eleven  o'clock,  there  was 
actually  a  bridge  erected,  so  that  after  the  school  the  scholars  could  go  dry- 
shod  over  the  brook.  And,  also,  the  complaints  about  his  pride  ceased ;  for  the 
two  neighbors'  wives,  who  had  been  the  loudest  in  making  them,  now  sang 
quite  another  song. 

If  this  seems  incredible  to  you,  reader,  make  an  experiment  yourself!  and 
stand  out  in  the  rain  for  the  sake  of  other  people's  children,  without  being  called 
on  to  do  so,  or  receiving  any  thing  for  it,  until  you  are  dripping  wet ;  and  then 
see  whether  those  people  do  not  then  willingly  speak  good  of  you,  and  do  good 
to  you  ;  and  whether  they  say  any  thing  evil  of  you,  except  in  regard  to  some- 
thing actually  and  very  evil,  or  something  which  they  absolutely  can  not  see  and 
understand  to  be  otherwise  than  bad. 

11.    FOOLISH  WORDS,  AND  SCHOOL  PUNISHMENTS, 

But  it  was  not  long  before  the  people  had  something  else  to  complain  about ; 
and,  indeed,  something  worse  than  before.  The  Hartknopf  party  in  the  village, 
that  is,  discovered  that  the  lieutenant  was  not  a  good  Christian ;  and  began  qui- 
etly to  make  good  and  simple  people  in  the  village  believe  it.  One  of  the  first 
to  find  comfort  in  this  story,  and  to  endeavor  to  propagate  it,  was  the  old  school- 
master. He  could  not  endure  that  all  the  children  should  so  praise  and  love 


664  TIJE  SCHOOL  IN  BONNAL. 

the  new  schoolmaster.  As  long  as  he  had  been  schoolmaster,  they  had  hated 
him ;  and  he  had  become  so  used  to  this,  in  thirty  years,  that  he  believed  it 
must  be  so ;  and  asserted  that  the  children,  not  being  able  to  understand  what 
is  good  for  them,  naturally  hate  all  discipline,  and  consequently  all  schoolmasters. 
But  he  made  not  much  progress  with  this  theory ;  and  he  fancied  people  were 
going  to  tell  him  that  the  children  loved  their  present  schoolmaster  because  he 
was  good  to  them. 

This  vexed  him;  for  he  could  not  endure,  all  his  life,  to  have  it  flung  at  him 
that  his  own  foolishness  was  the  reason  that  the  children  did  not  love  him, 
although  it  was  the  honest  truth.  If  he  observed  the  least  thing  which  he  dis- 
approved, the  first  word  was,  "You  are  killing  me,  body  and  soul;  you  will 
bring  me  into  my  grave.  If  you  did  not  deserve  hell  for  any  other  reason,  you 
deserve  it  on  account  of  me ;  "  and  the  like. 

Such  language,  especially  to  children,  does  not  cause  good  feelings ;  and  they 
must  have  been  much  more  than  children  to  be  able  to  love  a  fool,  who  spoke 
to  them  in  that  way  every  moment.  They  knew  whom  they  were  dealing  with, 
and  when  he  was  most  enraged,  they  would  say  to  each  other,  "  When  we  kill 
again,  and  bring  him  some  sausages  and  meat,  we  shall  not  go  to  hell  any  more, 
at  least  as  long  as  he  has  any  of  them  left  to  eat." 

With  the  new  schoolmaster  the  case  was  quite  otherwise.  His  harshest  re- 
proofs to  the  children,  when  they  did  wrong,  were,  "That  is  not  right,"  or  "You 
are  injuring  yourself,"  or  "In  that  way  you  will  never  arrive  at  any  thing  good," 
&c.  Little  as  this  was,  it  was  effectual,  because  it  was  the  truth. 

Gluelphi's  punishments  consisted  mostly  in  exercises  intended  to  help  the 
faults  which  they  were  to  punish.  For  instance,  if  a  child  was  idle,  he  was 
made  to  carry  stone  for  the  guard-fence,  which  the  teacher  was  making  some  of 
the  older  boys  construct,  at  the  sand-meadow,  or  to  cut  fire- wood,  &c.  A  forget- 
ful one  was  made  school-messenger,  and  for  four  or  five  days  had  to  transact 
whatever  business  the  teacher  had  in  the  village. 

Even  during  his  punishments,  he  was  kind  to  the  children,  and  scarcely  ever 
talked  more  with  them  than  while  punishing  them.  "Is  it  not  better  for  you," 
he  would  often  say  to  a  careless  one,  "to  learn  to  keep  yourself  attentive  to 
what  you  do,  than  every  moment  to  be  forgetting  something,  and  then  to  have 
to  do  every  thing  over  again?  "  Then  the  child  would  often  throw  himself  upon 
him  with  tears,  and,  with  his  trembling  hand  in  his,  would  reply,  "  Yes,  dear 
Herr  schoolmaster."  And  he  would  then  answer,  "  Good  child.  Don't  cry ; 
but  learn  better ;  and  tell  your  father  and  mother  to  help  you  overcome  your 
carelessness,  or  your  idleness." 

Disobedience,  which  was  not  carelessness,  he  punished  by  not  speaking  pub- 
licly to  such  a  child,  for  three,  or  four,  or  five  days,  but  only  alone  with  him ; 
intimating  to  him,  at  the  close  of  school,  to  remain.  Impertinence  and  impro- 
priety, he  punished  in  the  same  way.  Wickedness,  however,  and  lying,  he  pun- 
ished with  the  rod ;  and  any  child  punished  with  the  rod,  was  not  permitted, 
during  a  whole  week,  to  join  in  the  children's  plays ;  and  his  name  and  his  fault 
stood  entered  in  the  Register  of  Offenses,  until  he  gave  unmistakable  evidence 
of  improvement,  when  they  were  stricken  out  again. 

So  great  was  the  difference  between  the  old  and  the  new  organization  of  the 
school. 


CHRISTOPHER   AND    ALICE. 


IN  the  year  1782,  Pestalozzi,  with  a  view  of  directing  the  attention  of 
the  readers  of  "  Leonard  and  Gertrude "  from  the  story  to  the  moral 
lessons  which  it  was  intended  to  convey,  and  to  correct  some  erroneous 
impressions  which  the  people  had  got  from  the  picture  he  had  drawn 
of  the  depravity  of  subordinate  functionaries  in  the  villages,  published 
his  "  Christopher  and  Alice ,"  (Christoph  and  Else.)  This  work  con- 
sists of  a  series  of  dialogues,  in  which  Christopher,  an  intelligent  farmer, 
discusses  with  his  family,  chapter  by  chapter,  the  history  of  Bonnal. 
The  principal  interlocutors  are,  besides  Christopher,  his  wife  Alice,  Jo- 
siah,  his  head-servant,  and  Frederic,  his  eldest  son.  Some  of  his  neigh- 
bors occasionally  drop  in,  and  take  part  in  the  discussion,  which  is  re- 
plete with  the  soundest  views  of  life,  and  of  parental  duty,  and  opportu- 
nity, conveyed  in  homely  but  expressive  language.  But  it  lacked  the 
interest  of  action,  and  never  reached  the  class  of  people  for  whose  special 
benefit  is  was  intended. 

We  extract  the  principal  portion  of  one  of  the  dialogues,  in  which 
Pestalozzi  exalts  the  training  office  of  the  mother  and  the  home  above 
that  of  the  schoolmaster  and  the  school  room — a  leading  principle  of  his 
educational  labors  through  life  — one  of  the  earliest  and  latest  of  his  as- 
pirations for  the  advancement  of  his  falher-land,  and  of  humanity. 

HOME  AND  SCHOOL  TRAINING.      DOMESTIC  EDUCATION. 

"  That  is  my  chapter,  father ! "  said  Alice,  when  Christopher  had  read  the 
twelfth  chapter  of  our  book  ;*  "  a  pious  mother,  who  herself  teaches  her  children 
seems  to  me  to  be  the  finest  sight  on  the  earth." 

"  It  is  a  very  different  one  from  a  school  room,  at  all  events,"  said  Josiah. 

Alice.     "  I  did  not  mean  to  say  that  schools  are  not  very  good." 

Christopher.     "  Nor  would  I  allow  myself  to  think  so." 

Josiah.  "  Well,  and  it  is  true,  after  all,  that  nothing  of  what  the  schoolmaster 
can  say  will  ever  reach  children's  hearts  in  the  same  way  as  what  their  parents 
teach  them ;  and,  generally  speaking,  I  am  sure  there  is  not  in  school-going  all 
the  good  that  people  fancy  there  is." 

Christopher.  "  I  am  afraid,  Josiah,  thou  art  rather  straining  thy  point.  "We 
ought  to  thank  God  for  all  the  good  that  there  is  in  the  world  ;  and,  as  for  the 
schools  in  our  country,  we  can't  thank  Him  enough  for  them." 

Josiah.  "Well  spoken,  master.  It  is  well  that  there  are  schools;  and  God 
forbid  that  I  should  be  ungrateful  for  any  good  that  it  has  done  to  us.  But,  with 
all  this,  I  think  that  he  must  be  a  fool  who,  having  plenty  at  home,  runs  about 
begging ;  and  that  is  the  very  tiling  which  our  village  folks  do,  by  forgetting  all 

*  This  chapter  represents  Gertrude  in  the  midst  of  her  children,  teaching  them,  at  the 
same  time  that  they  are  engaged  in  spinning. — B. 


6(50  CHRISTOPHER  AND  ALICE 

the  good  lessons  which  they  might  teach  their  children  at  home,  and,  instead 
thereof,  sending  them  every  day  to  gather  up  the  dry  crumbs  which  are  to  be  got 
in  our  miserable  schools.  1  am  sure  that  is  not  quite  as  it  ought  to  be." 
Christopher.  "  Nor  is  it,  perhaps,  quite  as  thou  hast  put  it." 
Josiah.  "  Nay,  master !  but  only  look  it  in  the  face,  and  thou'lt  surely  see  it 
the  same  as  I  do.  That  which  parents  can  teach  their  children  is  always  what 
they  stand  most  in  need  of  in  life ;  and  it  is  a  pity  that  parents  should  neglect 
this,  by  trusting  in  the  words  which  the  schoolmaster  makes  them  get  by  heart. 
It  is  very  true,  they  may  be  good  and  wise  words,  and  have  an  excellent  mean- 
ing to  them  ;  but,  after  all,  they  are  only  words,  and  coming  from  the  mouth  of  a 
stranger,  they  don't  come  half  as  near  home  as  a  father's  or  a  mother's  words." 
Christopher.  UI  can  not  see  what  thou  would'st  be  at,  Josiah." 
Josiah.  "  Look,  master !  The  great  point  in  bringing  up  a  child  is,  that  he 
should  be  well  brought  up  for  his  own  house;  he  must  learn  to  know,  and  han- 
dle, and  use  those  things  on  which  his  bread  and  his  quiet  will  depend  through 
life;  and  it  seems  to  me  very  plain,  that  fathers  and  mothers  can  teach  that 
much  better  at  home,  than  any  schoolmaster  can  do  it  in  his  school.  The  school- 
master, no  doubt,  tells  the  children  of  a  great  many  things  which  are  right  and 
good,  but  they  are  never  worth  as  much  in  his  mouth  as  in  the  mouth  of  an  up- 
right father,  or  a  pious  mother.  The  schoolmaster,  for  instance,  will  tell  the  child 
to  fear  God,  and  to  honor  his  father  and  mother,  for  that  such  is  the  word  of 
God  ;  but  the  child  understands  little  of  what  he  says,  and  mostly  forgets  it  again 
before  he  comes  home.  But  if,  at  home,  his  father  gives  him  milk  and  bread, 
and  his  mother  denies  herself  a  morsel,  that  she  may  give  it  to  him,  the  child 
feels  and  understands  that  he  ought  to  honor  his  father  and  mother,  who  are  so 
kind  to  him,  and  he  will  not  forget  his  father's  words,  which  tell  him  that  such  is 
the  word  of  God,  as  easily  as  the  empty  word  of  the  schoolmaster.  In  the  same 
way,  if  the  child  is  told  at  school  to  be  merciful,  and  to  love  his  neighbor  as  him- 
self, he  gets  the  text  by  heart,  and  perhaps  thinks  of  it  for  a  few  days,  till  the 
nice  words  slip  again  from  his  memory.  But  at  home  he  sees  a  poor  neighbor's 
wife  calling  in  upon  his  mother,  lamenting  over  her  misery,  her  hunger,  and  na- 
kedness; he  sees  her  pale  countenance,  her  emaciated  and  trembling  figure,  the 
very  image  of  wretchedness  ;  his  heart  throbs,  his  tears  flow  ;  he  lifts  up  his  eyes 
full  of  grief  and  anxiety  to  his  mother,  as  if  he  himself  was  starving ;  his  mother 
goes  to  fetch  some  refreshments  for  the  poor  sufferer,  in  whose  looks  the  child 
now  reads  comfort  and  reviving  hope;  his  anguish  ceases,  his  tears  flow  no  lon- 
ger, he  approaches  her  with  a  smiling  face  ;  at  last  his  mother  returns,  and  her 
gift  is  received  with  sobs  of  gratitude,  which  draw  fresh  tears  from  the  child's 
eye.  Here  then  he  learns  what  it  is  to  be  merciful,  and  to  love  one's  neighbor. 
He  learns  it,  without  the  aid  of  words,  by  the  real  fact ;  he  sees  mercy  itself, 
instead  of  learning  words  about  mercy." 

Christopher.  "  I  must  own  I  begin  to  think  thou  art  not  quite  mistaken  in 
saying  that  too  much  value  is  put  upon  the  schoolmaster's  teaching." 

Josiah.  "Of  course,  master  !  If  thou  sendest  thy  sheep  up  into  the  mount- 
ain, thou  reliest  upon  their  being  well  kept  by  the  shepherd,  who  is  paid  for  it, 
and  thou  dost  not  think  of  running  about  after  them  thyself;  but  if  thou  hast 
them  at  home,  in  thy  own  stables,  thou  lookest  after  them  thyself.  Now  it  is  just 
the  same  thing  with  the  school ;  only  there  is  this  difference,  that  it  is  easy  to 
get  for  the  sheep  pasture  which  is  infinitely  better  than  the  food  they  have  in  the 


CHRISTOPHER  AND  ALICE.  gg7 

stable ;  but  it  is  not  so  easy  to  find  a  school  in  which  the  children  are  better 
taught  than  they  might  be  at  home.  The  parents^  teaching  is  the  kernel  of 
wisdom,  and  the  schoolmaster's  business  is  only  to  make  a  husk  over  iZ,  and 
there  even  is  a  great  chance  whether  it  turn  out  well." 

Alice.  "  Why,  Josiah,  thou  makest  one's  brains  whirl  all  round,  about  one's 
children.  I  think  I  see  now  what  thou  art  at;  and  1  fancy  many  a  poor,  igno- 
rant mother,  who  now  sends  her  children  to  school,  without  thinking  any  thing 
about  it,  merely  because  it  is  the  custom  to  do  so,  would  be  very  glad  to  be  taught 
better." 

Josiah.  "  There  is  yet  another  part  of  the  story,  master.  What  helps  the 
common  people  to  get  through  the  world,  thou  knowest,  and  to  have  their  daily 
bread,  and  a  cheerful  heart,  is  nothing  else  but  good  sense  and  natural  under- 
standing; and  I  have  never  found  in  all  my  life  a  useful  man  who  was  what  they 
call  a  good  scholar.  The  right  understanding  with  the  common  people  is,  as  it 
were,  free  and  easy,  and  shows  itself  always  in  the  proper  place  and  season  ;  so 
that  a  man's  words  don't  fit  but  at  the  very  moment  when  they  are  spoken,  and  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  before  or  after  they  would  not  fit  at  all.  But  the  school  un- 
derstanding, brings  in  all  manner  of  sayings  which  are  fit  at  all  times,  in  summer 
and  winter,  in  hot  and  cold,  in  Lent  and  at  Easter;  and  that  is  the  reason  why 
this  school  understanding  does  not  do  any  good  to  common  people,  who  must 
regulate  themselves  according  to  times  and  seasons  ;  and  that  is  the  reason,  again, 
why  their  natural  understandings,  which  are  in  them,  ought  to  be  drawn  out 
more.  And  for  this,  there  are  no  better  teachers  than  the  house,  and  the  fath- 
er's and  mother's  love,  and  the  daily  labor  at  home,  and  all  the  wants  and  neces- 
sities of  life.  But  if  the  children  must  needs  be  sent  to  school,  the  schoolmaster 
should,  at  least,  be  an  open-hearted,  cheerful,  affectionate,  and  kind  man,  who 
would  be  as  a  father  to  the  children ;  a  man  made  on  purpose  to  open  chil  - 
dren's  hearts,  and  their  mouths,  and  to  draw  forth  their  understandings,  as  it 
were,  from  the  hindermost  corner.  In  most  schools,  however,  it  is  just  the  con- 
trary ;  the  schoolmaster  seems  as  if  he  was  made  on  purpose  to  shut  up  children's 
mouths  and  hearts,  and  to  bury  their  good  understandings  ever  so  deep  under 
ground.  That  is  the  reason  why  healthy  and  cheerful  children,  whose  hearts  are 
full  of  joy  and  gladness,  hardly  ever  like  school.  Those  that  show  best  at  school 
are  the  children  of  whining  hypocrites,  of  of  conceited  parish-officers ;  stupid 
dunces,  who  have  no  pleasure  with  other  children ;  these  are  the  bright  orna- 
ments of  school  rooms,  who  hold  up  their  heads  among  the  other  children,  like 
the  wooden  king  in  the  ninepins  among  his  eight  fellows.  But,  if  there  is  a  boy 
who  has  too  much  good  sense  to  keep  his  eyes,  for  hours  together,  fixed  upon  a 
dozen  letters  which  he  hates;  or  a  merry  girl,  who,  while  the  schoolmaster  dis- 
courses of  spiritual  life,  plays  with  her  little  hands  all  manner  of  temporal  fun, 
under  the  desk ;  the  schoolmaster,  in  his  wisdom,  settles  that  these  are  the  goats 
who  care  not  for  their  everlasting  salvation.  .  .  ." 

Thus  spoke  good  Josiah,  in  the  overflowing  of  his  zeal,  against  the  nonsense 
of  village  schools,  and  his  master  and  mistress  grew  more  and  more  attentive  to 
what  he  said. 

"Well,  I  trust,"  said  Christopher,  at  last,  "there  still  may  be  some  other  light 
to  view  the  matter  in." 

But  Alice  replied :  "  There  may  be  twenty  more  lights  to  view  the  matter  in, 
for  aught  I  know.  But  I  care  not ;  I  know  this  one  thing,  that  I  will  have  my 


608  CHRISTOPHER  AND  ALICE. 

children  more  about  me  in  future ;  it  seems  very  natural,  indeed,  that  fathers  and 
mothers  should  themselves  teach  their  children  as  much  as  they  possibly  can.  1 
think  there  is  a  great  deal  in  what  Josiah  says,  and  one  really  shudders,  when  one 
comes  to  reflect  what  sort  of  people  our  village  schoolmasters  generally  are. 
There  are  many  of  them,  I  know,  Christopher,  whom  thou  wouldst  not  trust 
with  a  cow,  or  a  calf,  over  winter ;  and  it  is  very  true,  that  one  ought  to  look 
more  one's  self  after  one's  children,  and  not  fancy  all  is  well,  provided  one  sends 
them  to  school." 


HOW  GERTRUDE  TEACHES  HER  CHILDREN. 


THIS  work  was  written  in  1801,  and  is  in  the  form  of  letters  to  Pesta- 
lozzi's friend  Gesner,  of  Zurich,  son  of  the  author  of  "  The  Death  of 
Abel ; "  and  was,  indeed,  drawn  up  at  his  request.  Its  purpose  is  to 
present  in  a  condensed  form  the  history  of  the  development  of  Pestalozzi's 
views  on  the  principles  and  practice  of  instruction,  up  to  the  period  of  the 
composition  of  the  work. 

The  name  is  not  appropriate  to  the  actual  contents  of  the  book ;  for 
instead  of  containing  such  details  of  rudimentary  instructions  as  mothers 
might  give,  it_is  mainly  a  careful  and  condensed  compend  of  an  extended 
course,  adapted  to  the  minds  of  teachers  of  some  experience.  The  title 
was  given  with  reference  to  the  previous  work,  "  Leonard  and  Gertrude" 
in  which  Gertrude  is  represented  as  a  pattern  teacher  for  young  children  ; 
and  it  signifies  merely  that  the  present  work  sets  forth  at  greater  length 
the  principles  and  practice  of  the  former  one.  It  has  an  allusive  pro- 
priety only. 

The  work  commences  with  reference  to  Pestalozzi's  early  coi  fusion  of 
ideas  respecting  education,  and  states  briefly  his  early  labors  f  r  improv- 
ing the  condition  of  the  poor.  But  he  says  his  early  hopes,  as  ex- 
pressed in  Iselin's  "Ephemerides  "  (1782,)  were  no  less  comprehensive  than 
his  later  ones.  His  progress  had  been  in  working  out  the  details  of  the 
application  of  his  principles  to  practical  instruction.  In  the  course  of  the 
unsuccessful  PTrpprimpnt_aJ;  Neuhof,  he  proceeds,  he  had  acquired  an 
acquamtance  with  the  real  needs  of  the  Swiss  people,  altogether  deeper 
than  that  of  his  cotemporaries.  In  the  despondent  years  then  following, 
he  endeavored  to  do  something  toward  supplying  those  needs,  by  com- 
posing and  publishing  his  "Inquiries  into  the  Course  of  Nature  in  the 
Development  of  Mankind."  But  Pestalozzi  was  not  made  for  a  master  of 
theories,  whether  in  social  or  mental  philosophy,  or  elsewhere.  His  work 
neither  satisfied  him  nor  commanded  the  attention  of  the  public. 

Pestalozzi  then  traces  his  career  as  a  practical  educator,  beginning  with 
his  sudden  resolution  to  become  a  schoolmaster,  and  his  bold  assumption, 
single-handed  and  without  money,  books,  apparatus,  or  any  thing  except 
a  ruinous  old  building,  of  the  charge  of  the  school  of  homeless  poor 
children  at  Stanz,  and  pausing  to  give  brief  accounts,  partly  autobiograph- 
ical, of  his  three  assistants,  Kriisi,  Buss,  and  Tobler.* 

Besides  the  exposition  of  his  practical  views,  of  which  the  following 
pag  s  present  an  abstract  in  his  own  words,  the  work  contains  a  consider- 

*  These  autobiographies  will  be  found  in  the  '-'American  Journal  of  Education"  Vol.  V., 
p.  155. 


070  11<)W  GERTRUDE  TEACHES  HER  CHILDREN. 

able  portion  of  polemic  matter,  directed  against  cotemporary  evils  and 
errors  in  received  modes  of  education.  A  principal  origin  of  the  superfi- 
cial and  unsubstantial  character  of  these  modes  he  finds  to  have  been  the 
introduction  of  printing,  which,  according  to  him,  has  caused  an  excessive 
devotion  to  mere  language,  without  regard  to  thought,  and  has  resulted 
in  making  book-men,  instead  of  thinkers. 

The  latter  portion  of  the  work  contains  a  somewhat  obscure  and  un- 
satisfactory statement  of  the  position  of  religious  education  in  his  system, 
and  of  the  mode  of  giving  it ;  which,  however,  is  by  no  means  to  be  taken 
as  an  adequate  presentation  of  Pestalozzi's  views  on  this  point. 

The  positive  part  of  the  book  may  be  considered  as  an  extended  an- 
swer to  the  question,  "What  is  to  be  done  to  give  the  child  all  the  theo- 
retical and  practical  knowledge  which  he  will  need  in  order  to  perform 
properly  the  duties  of  his  life,  and  thus  to  attain  to  inward  contentment?  " 

This  answer  professes  to  discuss  both  the  theory  and  the  practice  re- 
ferred to  in  the  question ;  but  the  former  is  predominant,  although  there 
is  an  honest  effort  to  give  the  latter  its  proper  place. 

The  following  pages  will  sufficiently  present  the  chief  features  of  the 
most  important  portion  of  the  work,  that  which  sets  forth  the  system  of 
instruction  within  the  three  primary  divisions  of  Number,  Form,  and; 
Speech. 


PESTALOZZTS  ACCOUNT  OF  HIS  OWN  EDUCATIONAL  EXPERIENCE. 


POPULAR  education  once  lay  before  me  like  an  immense  marsh,  in  the  mire  of 
which  I  waded  about,  until  I  had  discovered  the  sources  from  which  its  waters 
spring,  as  well  as  the  causes  by  which  their  free  course  is  obstructed,  and 
made  myself  acquainted  with  those  points  from  which  a  hope  of  draining  its 
pools  might  be  conceived. 

You  shall  now  follow  me  yourself  for  a  while  through  these  labyrinthine  wind- 
ings, from  which  I  extricated  myself  by  accident  rather  than  by  my  own  art 
or  reflection. 

Ever  since  my  youthful  days,  the  course  of  my  feelings,  rolled  on  like  a 
mighty  stream,  was  directed  to  this  one  point ;  namely,  to  stop  the  sources  of 
that  misery  in  which  I  saw  the  people  around  me  immersed. 

It  is  now  more  than  thirty  years  since  I  first  put  my  hand  to  this  same  work, 
which  I  am  still  pursuing.  Iselin's  "  Ephemerides  "  bear  witness  that  my  present 
dreams  and  wishes  are  not  more  comprehensive  than  those  which  I  was  even 
then  seeking  to  realize. 

I  lived  for  years  together  in  a  circle  of  more  than  fifty  pauper  children ;  in 
poverty  did  I  share  my  bread  with  them,  and  lived  myself  like  a  pauper,  to  try 
if  I  could  teach  paupers  to  live  as  men. 

The  plan  which  I  had  formed  for  their  education  embraced  agriculture,  manu- 
facture, and  commerce.  But,  young  as  I  was,  I  knew  not  what  attention,  and 
what  powers,  the  realization  of  my  dreams  would  require.  I  allowed  myself 
to  be  guided  by  a  deep  and  decided  feeling  of  what  seemed  to  me  essential  to 
the  execution  of  my  project ;  and  it  is  true  that,  with  all  the  experience  of  after 
life,  I  have  found  but  little  reason  to  modify  the  views  I  then  entertained. 
Nevertheless  my  confidence  in  their  truth,  founded  upon  the  apparent  infallibil- 
ity of  my  feeling,  became  my  ruin.  For  it  is  equally  true,  on  the  other  hand, 
that  in  no  one  of  the  three  departments  above-mentioned  did  I  possess  any  prac- 
tical ability  for  the  management  of  details,  nor  was  my  mind  of  a  cast  to  keep 
up  a  persevering  attention  to  little  things ;  and,  in  an  insulated  position,  with 
limited  means,  I  was  unable  to  procure  such  assistance  as  might  have  made  up 
for  my  own  deficiencies.  In  a  short  time  I  was  surrounded  with  embarrass- 
ments, and  saw  the  great  object  of  my  wishes  defeated. 

In  the  struggle,  however,  in  which  this  attempt  involved  me,  I  had  learned  a 
vast  deal  of  truth ;  and  I  was  never  more  fully  convinced  of  the  importance 
of  my  views  and  plans  than  at  the  moment  when  they  seemed  to  be  for  ever  set 
at  rest  by  a  total  failure.  My  heart  too  was  still  aiming  at  the  same  object; 
and,  being  now  myself  plunged  into  wretchedness,  I'had  a  better  opportunity, 
than  any  man  in  prosperity  ever  can  have,  of  making  myself  intimately  ac- 
quainted with  the  wretchedness  of  the  people,  and  with  its  sources.  I  suffered 
even  as  the  people  suffered ;  and  they  appeared  to  me  such  as  they  were,  and 
as  they  would  not  have  shewn  themselves  to  any  one  else.  For  a  length  of 


G72  PESTALOZZI'S  EDUCATIONAL  EXPERIENCE. 

years  I  sat  amongst  them  like  the  owl  among  the  birds.  I  was  cast  away  by 
men,  and  their  sneers  followed  after  me,  "Wretch  that  thou  art!"  they  ex- 
claimed; "thou  art  less  able  than  the  meanest  laborer  to  help  thyself,  and  yet 
thou  fanciest  thyself  able  to  help  the  people!  "  Yet  amidst  the  scorn  which  I 
read  on  all  lips,  the  mighty  stream  of  my  feeling  was  still  directed  to  the  same 
point;  to  stop  the  sources  of  the  misery  in  which  I  saw  the  people  around  me 
sinking;  and  in  one  respect,  at  least,  my  power  was  daily  increased.  My  mis- 
fortune was  a  school,  in  which  Providence  had  placed  me  to  learn  truth  for  my 
great  object:  and  I  learned  of  it  more  and  more.  That  which  deceived  no 
other,  has  ever  deceived  me ;  but  what  deceived  every  one  else,  now  deceived 
.me  no  longer. 

I  knew  the  people  in  a  manner  in  which  no  one  around  me  knew  them. 
The  glitter  of  prosperity  arising  from  the  newly-introduced  manufactures,  the 
freshened  aspect  of  their  houses,  the  abundance  of  their  harvests,  all  this  could 
not  deceive  me ;  nor  even  the  Socratic  discoursing  of  some  of  their  teachers, 
nor  the  reading  associations  among  bailiffs'  sons  and  hair-dressers.  I  -saw  their 
misery,  but  I  lost  myself  in  the  vast  prospect  of  its  scattered  and  insulated 
sources;  and  while  my  knowledge  of  their  real  condition  became  every  day 
more  extensive,  my  practical  capability  of  remedying  the  evils  under  which 
they  labored,  increased  in  a  far  less  proportion.  Even  "Leonard  and  Gertrude" 
the  work  which  sympathy  with  their  sufferings  extorted  from  me,  was,  after  all, 
but  the  production  of  my  internal  inability  to  offer  them  any  real  help.  I 
stood  among  my  contemporaries  like  a  monument  which  bespeaks  life,  but  is  in 
itself  dead.  Many  cast  a  glance  upon  it ;  but  they  could  appreciate  me  and 
my  plans  no  better  than  I  myself  was  able  to  form  a  correct  estimate  of  the 
various  powers,  and  the  details  of  knowledge,  necessary  to  carry  them  into 
effect. 

I  grew  careless ;  and,  being  swallowed  up  in  a  vortex  of  anxiety  for  outward 
action,  I  neglected  to  work  out  to  a  sufficient  depth,  within  my  own  mind,  the 
foundations  of  what  I  intended  to  bring  about. 

Had  I  done  this,  to  what  internal  elevation  might  I  have  risen  for  the  accom- 
plishment of  my  purposes !  and  how  rapidly  should  I  then  have  reached  my 
aim !  I  attained  it  not,  because  I  was  unworthy  of  it ;  because  I  sought  it 
merely  in  the  outward ;  because  I  allowed  my  love  of  truth  and  of  justice  to 
become  a  passion  which  tossed  me  about,  like  a  torn-up  reed,  on  the  waves  of 
life,  nor  would  permit  me  to  take  root  again  in  firm  ground,  and  to  imbibe 
that  nourishment  and  strength  of  which  I  stood  so  much  in  need  for  the  fur- 
therance of  my  object.  It  was  far  too  vain  a  hope,  that  some  one  else  would 
rescue  that  loose  reed  from  the  waves,  and  secure  it  in  the  ground  in  which  I 
myself  neglected  to  plant  it. 

Oh,  my  dear  friend!  Who  is  the  man  that  has  but' one  feeling  in  common 
with  my  soul,  and  knows  not  how  low  I  must  now  have  sunk  ?  And  thou, 
my  beloved  Gesner,  before  thou  readest  on,  wilt  consecrate  a  tear  to  my 
course 

Deep  dissatisfaction  was  gnawing  my  heart;  eternal  truth  and  eternal  recti- 
tude were  converted  by  my  passion  into  airy  castles.  With  a  hardened  mind  1 
clung  stubbornly  to  words  and  sounds  which  had  lost  within  me  the  basis  of 
truth.  Thus  I  degraded  myself  every  day  more  with  the  worship  of  common- 
places, and  the  trumpeting  of  those  quackeries,  wherewith  these  modern  times 
wetend  to  better  the  condition  of  mankind. 


PESTALOZZI'S  EDUCATIONAL  EXPERIENCE.  673 

I  was  not,  however,  insensible  to  this  internal  abasement,  nor  did  I  fail  to 
struggle  against  it.  For  three  years  I  toiled,  more  than  I  can  express,  over  my 
"Inquiries  into  the  Course  of  Nature  in  the  Development  of  Mankind"  chiefly 
with  a  view  to  get  settled  in  my  own  mind  as  to  the  progress  of  my  favorite 
ideas,  and  to  bring  my  innate  feelings  into  harmony  with  my  notions  of  civil 
right  and  moral  obligation.  But  this  work,  likewise,  is  no  more  than  a  testi- 
mony of  my  internal  incapacity ;  a  mere  play  of  my  reflective  faculties.  The 
subject  is  not  comprehensively  viewed,  nor  is  there  a  due  exercise  of  power  to 
combat  myself,  or  a  sufficient  tendency  to  that  practical  ability  which  was 
requisite  for  my  purposes.  It  only  served  to  increase  that  deficiency  within 
myself,  arising  from  a  disproportion  between  my  power  and  my  knowledge, 
which  it  was  indispensable  that  I  should  fill  up,  though  I  grew  every  day  more 
unable  to  do  so. 

Nor  did  I  reap  more  than  I  sowed.  My  book  produced  upon  those  around 
me  the  same  effect  as  did  everything  else  I  did;  hardly  any  one  understood 
me ;  and  in  my  immediate  neighborhood  there  were  not  two  men  to  be  found, 
who  did  not  hint  that  they  considered  the  whole  book  as  a  heap  of  nonsense. 
And  even  lately,  a  man  of  importance,  who  has  much  kindness  for  me,  said 
with  Swiss  familiarity:  "Don't  you  now  feel  yourself,  Mr.  Pestalozzi,  that  when 
you  wrote  that  book  you  did  not  know  what  you  wanted  to  be  at  ?  "  Thus, 
however,  to  be  misunderstood  and  wronged  was  my  lot :  but  instead  of  profiting 
by  it,  as  I  ought  to  have  done,  I  warred  against  my  misfortune  with  internal 
scorn  and  a  general  contempt  of  mankind ;  and  by  thus  injuring  the  foundation, 
which  my  cause  ought  to  have  had  within  myself,  I  did  it  infinitely  more  harm 
than  all  those  could  do,  by  whom  I  was  misunderstood  and  despised.  Yet  I 
had  not  lost  sight  of  my  ami ;  but  my  adherence  to  it  was  no  more  than  the 
obstinacy  of  a  perverted  imagination  and  a  murmuring  heart ;  it  was  on  a  pro- 
faned soil  that  T  sought  to  cherish  the  sacred  plant  of  human  happiness. 

I,  who  had  just  then,  in  my  "Inquiries"  declared  the  claims  of  civil  right  as 
mere  claims  of  our  animal  nature,  and  therefore  essential  impediments  to  moral 
purity,  the  only  thing  that  is  of  real  value  to  human  nature,  now  descended 
so  low,  that  amidst  the  violent  convulsions  of  the  revolution  I  expected  the 
mere  sound  of  social  systems,  and  of  political  theories,  to  produce  a  good  effect 
upon  the  men  of  my  age,  who,  with  few  exceptions,  lived  upon  mere  puff  and 
swell,  seeking  power,  and  hankering  after  well-set  tables. 

My  head  was  gray  ;  yet  I  was  still  a  child.  With  a  heart  in  which  all  the 
foundations  of  life  were  shaken,  I  still  pursued,  hi  those  stormy  times,  my  far 
vorite  object ;  but  my  way  was  one  of  prejudice,  of  passion,  and  of  error.  To 
bring  to  light  the  inveterate  causes  of  social  evils,  to  spread  impassioned  views 
•of  the  social  constitution  and  the  unalterable  basis  of  man's  rights,  nay,  to  turn 
to  account  the  spirit  of  violence  which  had  risen  up  amongst  us,  for  the  cure  of 
some  of  the  ills  under  which  the  people  suffered ;  such  were  the  means  by 
which  I  hoped  and  sought  to  effect  my  purpose.  But  the  purer  doctrines  of 
rny  former  days  had  been  but  sound  and  word  to  the  men  among  whom  I  lived ; 
how  much  less,  then,  was  it  to  be  expected,  that  they  should  apprehend  my 
meaning  hi  the  view  which  I  now  took.  Even  this  inferior  sort  of  truth  they 
contaminated  by  then*  filth :  they  remained  the  same  as  ever ;  and  they  acted 
toward  me  in  a  manner  which  I  ought  to  have  anticipated,  but  which  I  did  not 
anticipate,  because  the  dream  of  my  wishes  kept  me  suspended  in  mid-air,  and 

43 


674  PESTALozzrs  EDUCATIONAL  EXPERIENCE. 

my  soul  was  a  stranger  to  that  selfishness  by  which  I  might  have  recognized 
them  in  their  true  colors.  I  was  deceived  not  only  in  every  fox,  but  also  in 
every  fool ;  and  to  every  one  that  came  before  me,  and  spoke  well,  I  gave  fun 
credit  for  the  sincerity  of  his  intentions.  With  all  this  I  knew  more  than  any 
one  else  about  the  people,  and  about  the  sources  of  their  savage  and  degraded 
condition ;  but  I  wished  nothing  further  than  that  those  sources  might  be 
stopped,  and  the  evils  which  sprang  from  them  arrested ;  and  the  new  men, 
(novi  homines)  of  Helvetia,  whose  wishes  went  further,  and  who  had  no  knowl- 
edge of  the  condition  of  the  people,  found,  of  course,  that  I  was  not  made  for 
them.  These  men,  in  their  new  position,  like  shipwrecked  women,  took  every 
straw  for  a  mast,  on  which  the  republic  might  be  driven  to  a  safe  shore ;  but 
me,  me  alone,  they  took  for  a  straw  not  fit  for  a  fly  to  cling  to. 

They  knew  it  not,  they  intended  it  not ;  but  they  did  me  good,  more  good 
than  any  men  have  ever  done  me.  They  restored  me  to  myself;  for,  in  the 
amazement  caused  by  the  sudden  change  of  their  ship's  repair  into  a  shipwreck, 
I  had  not  another  word  left,  but  that  which  I  pronounced  in  the  first  days  of 
confusion:  "I  will  turn  schoolmaster."  For  this  I  found  confidence.  I  did: 
turn  schoolmaster.  Ever  since  I  have  been  engaged  in  a  mighty  struggle,  and 
compelled,  as  it  were,  in  spite  of  myself,  to  fill  up  those  internal  deficiencies  by 
which  my  purposes  were  formerly  defeated. 

To  lay  before  you,  my  friend,  the  whole  of  my  existence,  and  my  operations, 
since  that  period,  is  my  present  task.  Through  Legrand  I  had  made  some  in- 
terest with  the  first  Directoire  for  the  subject  of  popular  education,  and  I  was 
preparing  to  open  an  extensive  establishment  for  that  purpose  in  Argovie,  when 
Stanz  was  burnt  down,  and  Legrand  requested  me  to  make  the  scene  of  mis- 
ery the  first  scene  of  my  operations.  I  went;  I  would  have  gone  into  the  re- 
motest clefts  of  the  mountains,  to  come  nearer  to  my  aim ;  and  now  I  really  did 
come  nearer.  .  .  .  But  imagine  my  position.  .  .  .  Alone,  destitute  of  all 
means  of  instruction,  and  of  all  other  assistance.  I  united  in  my  person  the 
offices  of  superintendent,  paymaster,  steward,  and  sometimes  chambermaid,  in 
a  half-ruined  house.  I  was  surrounded  with  ignorance,  disease,  and  with  every 
kind  of  novelty.  Tfce  number  of  children  rose,  by  degrees,  to  eighty :  all  of 
different  ages ;  some  full  of  pretensions ;  others  inured  to  open  beggary;  and 
all,  with  a  few  solitary  exceptions,  entirely  ignorant.  "What  a  task!  to  educate, 
to  develop  these  children,  what  a  task ! 

I  ventured  upon  it.  I  stood  in  the  midst  of  these  children,  pronouncing  va- 
rious sounds,  and  asking  them  to  imitate  them;  whoever  saw  it,  was  struck 
with  the  effect.  It  is  true  it  was  a  meteor  which  vanishes  in  the  air  as  soon  as 
it  appears.  No  one  understood  its  nature.  I  did  not  understand  it  myself.  It 
was  the  result  of  a  simple  idea,  or  rather  of  a  fact  of  human  nature,  which  was 
revealed  to  my  feelings,  but  of  which  I  was  far  from  having  a  clear  consciousness. 


PESTALOZZL— METHODS  OF  ELEMENTARY  INSTRUCTION. 


1.     THE  ELEMENTARY  MEANS  OF  INSTRUCTION  DEPEND  UPON  NUMBER,  FORM, 

AND  SPEECH. 

IDEAS  of  the  elements  of  instruction  were  for  a  long  time  working  in  my 
mind,  vividly  though  indistinctly,  until  at  last,  like  a  "  Deus  ex  machina,"  the 
conception  that  the  means  of  the  elucidation  of  all  our  intuitional  knowledge  pro- 
ceed from  number,  form,  and  speech,  seemed  suddenly  to  give  me  new  light  on 
the  point  which  I  was  investigating. 

After  long  consideration  of  the  subject — or  rather,  uncertain  dreams  about 
it — I  at  last  set  myself  to  conceive  how  an  educated  man  proceeds,  and  must 
proceed,  when  endeavoring  to  abstract,  and  gradually  make  clear,  any  subject 
now  floating  confusedly  and  dimly  before  his  eyes. 

In  such  a  case,  he  will — and  must — observe  the  three  following  points : — •• 

1.  How  many  subjects,  or  how  various  ones,  are  before  him. 

2.  How  they  look;  what  is  their  form  and  outline. 

3.  What  they  are  called ;  how  he  can  recall  each  to  mind  by  means  of  a. 
sound,  a  word. 

The  doing  this  evidently  presupposes,  in  such  a  man,  the  following  developed, 
powers : — 

1.  The  power  of  considering  unlike  objects  in  relation  to  their  forms,  and  of 
recalling  to  mind  their  material. 

2.  That  of  abstracting  these  objects  as  to  their  number,  and  of  distinctly 
conceiving  them  either  as  one  or  as  many. 

3.  That  of  repeating  by  language,  and  fixing,  so  as  not  to  be  forgotten,  the- 
conception  of  an  object  as  to  number  and  form. 

Thus  I  conclude  that  number,  form,  and  speech  are  commonly  the  element- 
ary means  of  instruction,  since  they  include  the  whole  sum  of  the  external: 
qualities  of  an  object,  so  far  as  relates  to  its  extent  and  number,  and  become- 
known  to  my  intellect  through  speech.  Instruction,  as  an  art,  must  thus,  by 
an  invariable  law,  proceed  from  this  threefold  basis,  and  endeavor 

1.  To  teach  the  children  to  consider  any  object  brought  before  their  con- 
sciousness, as  a  unity ;  that  is,  as  separate  from  whatever  it  seems  to  be  bound 
up  with. 

2.  To  teach  them  an  acquaintance  with  the  form  of  each  such  object;  its  size 
and  relations. 

3.  To  make  them  as  early  as  possible  acquainted  with  the  whole  circle  of 
words  and  names  of  all  the  objects  known  to  them. 

The  instruction  of  children  being  to  proceed  from  these  three  elementary 
points,  it  is  evident,  again,  that  the  first  efforts  of  the  art  must  be  directed  to 
develop,  establish,  and  strengthen,  with  the  utmost  psychological  skill,  the  fun- 
damental knowledge  of  numbering,  measuring,  and  speaking,  upon  whose  cor- 
rect attainment  depends  the  right  knowledge  of  all  visible  objects ;  and  after- 


($76  PESTALOZZI  —METHODS  OF  INSTRUCTION. 

ward  to  bring  the  means  of  developing  and  training  these  three  departments 
of  mental  attainment  to  the  highest  degree  of  simplicity,  of  perfection,  and  of 
agreement  together. 

The  only  difficulty  which  occurred  to  me  upon  the  recognition  of  these  three 
elementary  points  was  this:  Why  are  not  all  those  conditions  of  things,  which 
we  recognize  through  the  three  senses,  not  elementary  in  the  same  sense,  as 
number,  form,  and  speech  ?  But  I  soon  observed  that  all  possible  objects  have 
number,  form,  and  name;  but  that  the  other  attributes,  recognized  through  the 
five  senses,  are  not  possessed  in  common  with  all  others  as  those  are,  but  only 
sometimes  one  and  sometimes  another  of  them.  Between  the  three  attributes 
of  number,  form,  and  name,  and  others,  I  also  found  this  substantial  and  dis- 
tinct difference — that  I  was  unable  to  .make  any  of  the  others  elementary  points 
of  human  knowledge ;  while,  on  the  contrary,  I  saw  just  as  clearly  that  all 
other  such  attributes  of  things  as  are  recognized  by  the  five  senses,  permit 
themselves  to  be  put  into  immediate  relations  with  those  three ;  and  in  conse- 
quence, that  in  the  instruction  of  children,  knowledge  of  all  the  other  qualities 
of  subjects  must  be  deduced  immediately  from  the  preliminary  knowledge  of 
form,  number  and  name.  I  saw  that  by  my  acquaintance  with  the  unity,  form, 
and  name  of  an  object  my  knowledge  of  it  becomes  definite  knowledge ;  that 
by  gradually  aiming  to  know  all  its  other  qualities,  I  acquire  a  clear  knowl- 
edge ;  and  by  understanding  the  relations  of  all  facts  relative  to  it,  I  acquire  an 
intelligent  knowledge. 

I  now  proceeded  further,  and  found  that  all  our  knowledge  proceeds  from 
three  elementary  faculties,  namely : — 

1.  The  active  faculty,  which  renders  us  capable  of  language. 

2.  The  indefinite  power  of  mere  perception  by  the  senses,  which  gives  us  our 
consciousness  of  all  forms. 

3.  The  definite  power  of  perception  not  by  the  senses  alone,  from  which  must 
be  gained  the  consciousness  of  unity,  and  through  it  the  power  of  counting 
and  computing. 

/  I  thus  concluded  that  the  art  of  educating  our  race  must  be  based  upon  the 
first  and  simplest  results  of  these  three  fundamental  elements — sound,  form,  and 
number ;  and  that  instruction  in  any  one  department  could  and  would  never 
lead  to  a  result  beneficial  to  our  nature,  considered  in  its  whole  compass,  unless 
these  three  simple  results  of  our  fundamental  faculties  should  be  recognized  as 
the  universal  starting-points  for  all  instruction,  fixed  as  such  by  nature  herself; 
and  unless  these  results  were  accordingly  developed  into  forms  proceeding  uni- 
versally and  harmoniously  from  them,  and  calculated  efficiently  and  surely  to 
carry  instruction  forward  to  its  completion,  through  the  steps  of  a  progression 
unbroken,  and  dealing  alike  and  equally  with  all  three.  This  I  concluded  the 
only  means  of  proceeding  in  all  three  of  these  departments,  from  indistinct  in- 
tuitions to  definite  ones,  from  intuitions  to  clear  perceptions,  and  from  clear  per- 
ceptions to  intelligent  ideas. 

Thus,  moreover,  I  find  art  actually  and  most  intimately  united  with  nature, 
or  rather  with  the  ideal  by  means  of  which  nature  makes  the  objects  of  the 
creation  known  to  us ;  and  so  was  solved  my  problem,  viz.,  to  discover  a  com- 
mon origin  of  all  the  means  of  the  art  of  instruction,  and.  at  the  same  time,  that 
form  of  it  in  which  the  development  of  the  race  is  defined  by  the  constitution 
.tself  of  our  nature : — and  the  difficulty  removed,  in  the  way  of  applying  the 


PESTALOZZI  —  METHODS  OF  INSTRUCTION.  ()77 

l;i\vs,  which  I  recogni/ed  as  at  the  foundation  of  human  instruction, 
to  that  system  of  instruction  which  the  experience  of  thousands  of  years  has 
given  to  the  human  race  for  its  own  development ;  that  is,  to  writing,  arithme- 
tic, reading,  &c. 

'2.  THE  FIRST  KLKMENTARY  MEANS  OF  INSTRUCTION  is,  ACCORDINGLY, 

SOUND. 
From  this  arise  the  following  subdivisions  of  instruction: — 

A.  In  Tones ;  or,  the  means  of  training  the  organs  of  speech. 

B.  In  Words;  or,  the  means  of  becoming  acquainted  with  single  objects. 

C.  In  Language ;  or,  the  means  of  becoming  able  to  express  ourselves  with 
clearness  relatively  to  such  objects  as  become  known  to  us,  and  to  all  which  we 
are  capable  of  seeing  in  those  objects. 

To  repeat  these  subdivisions. 

A.  Instruction  in  Tones.  This,  again,  divides  itself  into  instruction  in  speak- 
ing tones,  and  singing  tones. 

a.  Speaking  tones. 

With  respect  to  these,  it  should  not  be  left  to  chance  whether  they  are  heard 
by  the  child  at  an  early  or  late  period ;  and  in  great  number  or  in  small.  It  is 
important  that  he  should  hear  all  of  them,  and  as  early  as  possible. 

His  knowledge  of  them  should  be  complete,  before  he  has  attained  the  ability 
to  form  them ;  and  in  like  manner  his  power  of  imitating  them  all  and  with  fa- 
cility should  be  completely  developed,  before  the  forms  of  the  letters  are  laid 
before  him,  and  before  his  first  exercises  in  reading. 

The  spelling-book  must  therefore  contain  all  the  sounds  of  which  language 
consists ;  and  should  in  every  family  be  daily  repeated  by  the  child  who  is 
studying  them,  in  the  presence  of  the  child  in  the  cradle;  so  that  the  knowl- 
edge of  those  sounds  may  thus  by  frequent  repetition  become  deeply  impressed 
upon  the  latter,  and  indeed  be  made  quite  indelible,  even  before  it  is  able  to 
repeat  one  of  them. 

No  one  who  has  not  seen  it  can  imagine  how  the  pronunciation  of  such  sim- 
ple sounds  as  ba,  ba,  ba,  da,  da,  da,  ma,  ma,  ma,  la,  la,  la,  &c.,  excites  the  at- 
tention of  young  children,  and  stimulates  them ;  or  of  the  gain  to  the  general 
powers  of  acquisition  of  the  child  which  comes  from  the  early  acquaintance 
with  these  sounds. 

In  accordance  with  this  principle  of  the  importance  of  the  knowledge  of 
sound  and  tones,  before  the  child  can  imitate  them,  and  hi  the  conviction  that 
it  is  equally  important  what  representations  and  objects  come  before  the  eyes 
of  young  children,  and  what  sounds  come  to  his  ears,  I  have  composed  a  "Book 
for  Mothers ; "  in  which  I  explain,  by  illuminated  wood-cuts,  not  only  the  fun- 
damental points  of  number  and  form,  but  also  the  most  important  other  attri- 
butes with  which  the  five  senses  make  us  acquainted ;  and  in  which,  by  an 
acquaintance  with  many  names,  thus  assured,  and  rendered  vivid  by  much 
actual  inspection,  future  reading  is  prepared  for  and  made  easy.  In  the  same 
way  also,  by  practice  in  sounds,  preparatory  to  spelling,  I  prepare  and  facilitate 
this  study  also ;  for  by  this  book,  I  make  these  sounds  at  home  and,  I  may  say, 
quarter  them  upon  the  child's  mind,  before  the  child  can  pronounce  a  syllable 
of  them. 

I  intend  to  accompany  these  cuts,  for  the  youngest  children,  with  a  book  of 


678  PEHTALOZZI  -METHODS    OF    INSTRUCTION. 

methods,  in  which  every  word  which  must  be  said  to  the  child  upon  each  sub- 
ject elucidated,  shall  be  stated  so  clearly  that  even  the  most  inexperienced 
mother  can  sufficiently  attain  my  purpose ;  for  the  reason  that  not  a  word  will 
need  to  be  added  to  those  which  I  shall  set  forth. 

Thus  prepared  from  the  "Book  for  Mothers"  and  acquainted  by  actual  practice 
from  the  spelling-book  with  the  entire  extent  of  sounds,  the  child  must,  as  soon  as 
his  organs  become  trained  to  articulation,  become  accustomed  to  repeat  over  the 
various  columns  of  sounds  in  the  spelling-book,  with  as  much  ease  as  he  does 
such  other  purposeless  sounds  as  people  give  him  to  imitate. 

This  book  diH'ers  from  all  previous  ones  in  this:  that  its  method  is  universal; 
and  that  the  pupil  himself  proceeds  in  a  visible  manner,  beginning  with  the 
vowels,  and  constructing  syllables  by  the  gradual  addition  of  consonants  be- 
hind and  In-fore,  in  a  manner  which  is  comprehensive,  and  which  perceptibly 
facilitates  spei-cli  and  reading. 

My  mi-tlii'd  i<:  to  take  each  vowel  with  all  the  consonants  one  after  another, 
from  1)  to  /.  and  thus  to  form  \t  first  the  simple  easy  syllables,  ab,  ad,  afj  &c.  I 
and  then  to  put  before  each  of  these  simple  syllables  such  consonants  as  are 
actually  so  placed  in  common  language;  as,  for  instance,  before  ab,  in  succession, 
b,  g,  sch.  st.  \-e. :  making  bab,  gab,  schab,  &c.  By  going  through  all  the  vow- 
els in  this  manner,  with  this  simple  prefixing  of  consonants,  I  formed  first  easy 
syllables,  and  then,  by  prefixing  more  consonants,  more  difficult  ones.  This  ex- 
ercise necessitated  manifold  repetitions  of  the  simple  sounds,  and  a  general  and 
orderly  classification  of  all  the  syllables  which  are  alike  in  their  elements;  re- 
sulting in  an  indelible,  impression  of  their  sounds,  which  is  a  very  great  assist- 
ance in  learning  to  read. 

The  advantages  of  the  book  are  explained  in  it,  as  follows: — 

1.  It  keeps  the  child  at  spelling  single  syllables,  until  sufficient  skill  is  ac- 
quired in  the  exercises. 

2.  By  the  universal  employment  of  similarities  of  sound,  it  renders  the  repeti- 
tion of  similar  forms  not  disagreeable  to  the  child,  and  thus  facilitates  the 
design  of  impressing  them  indelibly  on  the  mind. 

3.  It  very  rapidly  enables  the  children  to  pronounce  at  once  every  new  word 
formed  by  the  addition  of  new  consonants  to  syllables  already  known,  without 
being  obliged  to  spell  them  over  beforehand ;  and  also  to  spell  these  combina- 
tions by  heart,  which  is  afterward  a  great  assistance  in  orthography. 

In  the  short  introduction  prefixed  to  the  book,  explaining  the  use  of  it,  moth- 
ers are  required  themselves  to  repeat  daily  to  their  children,  before  they  can 
read,  these  series  of  sounds,  and  to  pronounce  them  in  different  successions,  so 
as  to  attract  attention,  and  to  give  an  acquaintance  with  each  separate  sound. 
This  recitation  must  be  prosecuted  with  redoubled  zeal,  and  begun  again  from 
the  beginning,  as  soon  as  the  children  begin  to  speak,  to  enable  them  them- 
selves to  repeat  them,  and  thus  to  learn  quickly  to  read. 

In  order  to  make  the  knowledge  of  the  written  characters,  which  must  pre- 
cede spelling,  easier  to  the  children,  I  have  annexed  them  to  the  spelling-book, 
printed  in  a  large  character,  in  order  to  make  their  distinctions  more  easily  dis- 
cernible by  the  eye. 

These  letters  are  to  be  pasted  separately  on  stiff  paper,  and  put  before  the 
children.  The  vowels  are  in  red,  to  distinguish  them,  and  must  be  learned 
thoroughly,  as  well  as  their  pronunciation,  before  goin^  further.  After  this 


PESTALOZZI  —  METHODS    OF    INSTRUCTION.  679 

they  :uv  by  little  and  little  to  be  taught  the  consonants,  but  always  along  with 
a  vo\vd :   because  they  can  not  be  pronounced  without  a  vowel. 

•on  as  the  children,  partly  by  their  exercise,  partly  by  the  spelling  which 
I  am  about  to  describe,  begin  to  have  a  sufficient  knowledge  of  the  letters,  they 
may  be  set  at  the  threefold  series  of  letters,  also  appended  to  the  book ;  where 
in  a  smaller  type,  is  given,  over  the  German  printed  letter,  the  German  written, 
and  the  Roman  printed  letters.  The  child,  reading  each  syllable  in  the  form  of 
letter  already  familiar  to  him,  and  then  repeating  it  in  the  other  two,  will  learn 
to  read  in  all  three  alphabets,  without  any  loss  of  time. 

The  same  principle  is  still  to  be  adhered  to  in  these  exercises :  that  every  syl- 
lable is  nothing  but  a  sound  constructed  by  the  addition  of  a  consonant  to  a 
vowel ;  the  vowel  being  thus  always  the  foundation  of  the  syllable.  The  vowel 
Hhould  be  laid  down  first — or  slid  out  on  the  spelling-board  hung  up  on  the 
wall,  \vliicli  should  have  a  groove  at  the  upper  and  lower  side,  in  which  the  let- 
ters should  stand  and  move  easily  backward  and  forward — and  the  consonants 
added,  in  the  order  given  in  the  book.  Each  syllable  should  at  the  same  time 
be  pronounced  by  the  teacher  and  repeated  by  the  children,  until  indelibly  im- 
pressed on  their  minds.  Then  the  teacher  may  ask  for  each  letter,  in  its  order 
or  out  of  it ;  and  make  them  spell  the  syllables  when  covered  up  out  of  sight. 

It  is  very  necessary,  especially  in  the  first  part  of  the  book,  to  proceed  slowly, 
and  never  to  proceed  to  any  thing  new  until  what  precedes  it  has  been  learned 
beyond  the  power  of  forgetting;  for  upon  this  depends  the  foundation  of  the 
whole  course  of  instruction  in  reading,  upon  which  what  follows  is  to  be  built 
by  small  and  gradual  additions. 

When  in  this  way  the  children  have  arrived  at  a  certain  degree  of  facility  in 
spelling  it  may  be  interchanged  with  exercises  of  another  kind.  Thus,  for  ex- 
ample, a  word  may  be  spelled  by  beginning  with  one  letter  and  adding  the 
others,  one  after  another,  until  it  is  complete,  pronouncing  it  as  each  letter  is 
added ;  as,  p,  pi.  pin.  Then  the  reverse  process  may  be  followed,  by  taking 
away  one  letter  after  another,  and  thus  going  backward  in  the  same  manner; 
ivpi-.-iting  it  until  the  children  can  spell  the  word  by  heart,  correctly.  The  same 
thin-  can  also  be  done  by  beginning  at  the  end  of  the  word,  instead  of  the  be- 
ginning. 

Lastly,  the  word  may  be  divided  into  syllables,  the  syllables  numbered,  and 
repeated  and  spelled  promiscuously  by  their  numbers. 

i;iv.-it  advantages  maybe  gained  in  schools,  by  teaching  the  children,  from 
the  beginning,  to  repeat  the  words  all  together  at  the  same  moment;  so  that  the 
sound  produced  by  all  shall  be  heard  as  a  simple  sound,  whether  the  words 
were  repeated  to  them,  or  pointed  out  by  the  number  of  the  letters  or  syllables. 
This  keeping  time  together  renders  the  instructor's  part  quite  mechanical,  and 
operates  with  incredible  power  upon  the  senses  of  the  children. 

When  these  exercises  in  spelling  have  been  gone  through  with  on  the  tablet, 
the  book  itself  is  then  to  be  put  into  the  child's  hand,  as  a  first  reading-book ; 
and  he  is  to  be  kept  at  work  upon  it  until  he  has  acquired  the  most  complete 
facility  in  reading  it. 

So  much  for  instruction  in  the  sounds  of  speech.  I  have  to  add  a  word,  on 
the  sounds  of  singing.  But  as  singing  proper  can  not  be  reckoned  a  means  of 
proceeding  from  indistinct  intuitions  to  clear  ideas,  that  is,  as  one  of  the  means 
of  instruction  which  I  am  at  present  discussing,  but  is  rather  a  capacity,  to  be 


080  PB8TA1  «)//!  -METHODS  (»F    I  N  STKI  fTION. 

developed  from  other  points  of  view,  and  for  other  purposes,  I  put  ofl'  i; 
sideration  to  the  time  when  I  shall  consider  the  system  of  education ;  saying  at 
present  only  this:  that  singing,  according  to  the  general  principle,  begins  with 
what  is  simplest,  completes  this,  and  proceeds  only  gradually  from  it.  when 
completed,  to  the  beginning  of  what  is  ne\v. 

B.  The  second  department  of  the  domain  of  sound,  or  of  the  special  elfmeut- 
ary  means  of  instruction  derived  from  sound,  is — 

Instruction  in  words,  or  rather  in  names. 

I  havo  already  remarked  that  the  child  must  receive  its  first  instruction  in 
this  department,  also,  from  the  "  Book  for  Mothers.'1'1  This  is  so  arranged,  that  the 
most  important  subjects  of  the  world,  and  especially  those  that,  as  generic 
names,  include  whole  classes  of  subjects  within  themselves,  are  discussed ;  and- 
the  mother  is  enabled  to  make  the  child  well-acquainted  with  the  most  import- 
ant of  all  these  names.  By  this  course  of  proceeding,  the  chilu  is  prepared,, 
even  from  its  earliest  years,  for  instruction  in  names ;  that  for  the  second  spe- 
cial means  of  instruction  depending  on  the  power  of  uttering  sounds. 

The  instruction  in  names  is  given  by  means  of  series  of  names  of  the  more 
important  subjects,  from  all  the  realms  of  nature,  history,  geography,  and  hu- 
man vocations  and  relations.  These  columns  of  words  are  put  into  the  child's - 
hand  immediately  after  the  end  of  his  studies  in  the  spelling-book,  as  a  mere 
exercise  in  learning  to  read;  and  experience  has  shown  me  that  it  is  possible 
for  the  children  to  have  completely  committed  to  memory  the  columns,  within 
no  more  time  than  is  required  to  learn  to  read  them  readily.  The  advantage  of 
so  complete  a  knowledge  of  such  various  and  comprehensive  views  of  names 
at  this  stage,  is  immeasurable,  in  relation  to  the  facilitation  of  subsequent  in- 
struction. 

C.  The  third  special  means  of  instruction  proceeding  from  the  faculty  of 
sounds  is — 

Instruction  in  language  itself. 

And  here  is  the  point  at  which  begins  to  be  developed  the  proper  method  by 
which  the  art  of  instruction,  by  taking  advantage  of  the  development  of  the  capaci- 
ties of  the  human  mind,  can  give  an  acquaintance  with  language  which  shall  keep 
up  with  the  course  of  nature  in  general  development.  But  I  should  say,  rather, 
here  begins  to  develop  itself  the  method  by  which,  according  to  the  will  of  the 
Creator,  man  can  secure  himself  from  the  hands  of  mere  natural  blindness  and 
natural  capability  for  instruction,  to  be  put  into  the  hands  of  the  higher  powers 
which  have  been  developing  in  him  for  thousands  of  years ;  the  method  by 
•which  the  human  race,  independently — man— can  secure  for  the  development 
of  his  powers  that  more  definite  and  comprehensive  tendency  and  that  more 
rapid  progress,  for  which  nature  has  given  him  power  and  means  but  no  guid- 
ance, and  in  which  she  can  never  guide  him  while  he  is  man  only ;  the  form  in 
which  man  can  do  all  this  without  interfering  with  the  loftiness  and  simplicity 
of  the  physical  development  of  nature,  the  harmony  that  exists  in  our  merely-- 
sensuous development ;  without  taking  away  any  part  of  ourselves,  or  a  single 
hair  of  that  uniform  protection  which  mother  nature  exercises  over  even  the 
mere  physical  development. 

All  these  attainments  must  be  reached  by  means  of  a  finished  art  of  teaching 
language,  and  the  highest  grade  of  psychology;  thus  securing  the  utmost  per- 
fection in  the  mechanism  of  the  natural  progression  from  confused  intuitions  to  • 


I'KSTAI.O//!.   -MKTIIODS  OF  INSTRUCTION,  (jy) 

intelligent  ideas.  This  is.  in  truth,  far  beyond  my  powers;  and  I  feel  myself  to 
be,  on  this  subject,  as  the  voice  of  one  crying  in  the  wilderness. 

But  the  Egyptian,  who  first  fastened  a  shovel  with  a  crooked  handle  to  the 
horn  of  an  ox,  and  thus  taught  him  to  perform  the  labor  of  a  man  at  digging, 
thus  prepared  the  way  for  the  invention  of  the  plow,  although  he  did  not  bring 
it  to  perfection.  . 

My  services  are  only  the  first  bending  of  the  shovel-handle,  and  the  fastening 
of  it  to  a  new  horn,  But  why  do  I  speak  by  similitudes?  I  ought  to  and  will 
state  what  I  mean,  plainly,  and  without  circumlocution. 

I  desire  to  remove  the  imperfections  from  school  instruction;  both  from  the 
obsolete  system  of  stammering  servile  old  schoolmasters,  and  from  the  later  sys- 
tem which  has  by  no  means  taken  its  place — in  the  common  schools;  and  to 
knit  it  to  the  immovable  power  of  nature  herself,  and  to  the  light  which  God 
kindles  and  ever  maintains  in  the  hearts  of  fathers  and  mothers ;  to  the  desires 
of  parents  that  their  children  may  be  respectable  before  God  and  man. 

In  order  to  define  the  form  of  our  instruction  in  language,  or  rather  the  vari- 
ous forms  in  which  its  object  can  be  gained,  that  is,  through  which  we  are  to 
become  able  to  express  ourselves  distinctly  on  subjects  with  which  we  are  ac- 
quainted, and  as  to  every  thing  which  we  see  about  them,  we  must  inquire : — 

1.  What  is  man's  ultimate  object  in  language? 

2.  What  are  the  means,  or  rather  what  is  the  progression,  through  which  na- 
ture herself,  by  the  gradual  development  of  the  faculty  of  language,  brings  us 
to  this  end  ? 

The  answer  to  the  first  question  is,  evidently :  To  bring  our  race  from  ob- 
Bcure  intuitions  to  intelligent  ideas ;  and  to  the  second :  The  means  by  which 
she  gradually  brings  us  to  this  end  have,  unquestionably,  this  order  of  suc- 
cession, viz.: — 

a.  We  recognize  an  object  generally,  and  designate  it  as  a  unity — an  object. 

b.  We  become  generally  acquainted  with  its  characteristics,  and  learn  to  des- 
ignate them. 

c.  We  acquire,  through  language,  the  power  of  defining  more  in  detail  these 
traits,  by  verbs  and  adverbs,  and  making  clear  to  ourselves  their  modifications 
by  modifications  in  words  themselves,  and  in  their  juxtaposition. 

1.  On  the  effort  to  learn  the  names  of  objects,  I  have  already  spoken. 

2.  Efforts  to  comprehend  and  to  teach  the  names  of  the  qualities  of  objects 
as  desirable,  are  divided  into — 

a.  Efforts  to  teach  the  child  to  express  himself  with  distinctness  in  relation 
to  number  and  form :  (Number  and  form,  as  qualities  possessed  by  all  things, 
are  the  two  most  comprehensive  universal  abstractions  of  physical  nature ;  and 
are  the  two  central  points  to  which  are  referred  all  other  means  of  rendering 
our  ideas  intelligent.) 

b.  Efforts  to  teach  the  child  to  express  himself  with  distinctness  upon  all 
other  qualities  of  things,  besides  number  and  form;    as  well  those  qualities 
which  are  perceived  through  the  five  senses,  as  those  which  are  perceived,  not 
by  means  of  a  simple  intuition  of  them,  but  by  means  of  our  faculties  of  imag- 
ination and  judgment. 

Children  must  early  become  accustomed  to  consider  with  ease  form  and 
number,  the  first  physical  universal  qualities  which  the  experience  of  thou- 
sands of  years  has  taught  us  to  abstract  from  the  nature  of  all  things ;  and  to 


.(382  I'Ksi'A i. o/./;     MKTIIODS  or  INSTKI  nmv 

•consider  them,  not  mnvly  as  qualities  inherent  in  each  particular  thing,  but  ad 
physical  universal  qualities.  He  must  not  only  learn  early  to  distinguish  a 
round  and  a  triangular  thing  as  such,  but  must  as  early  as  possible  have  im- 
pressed upon  his  mind  the  idea  of  circularity,  and  triangularity,  as  a  pure  ab- 
straction ;  so  that  he  may  be  able  to  apply  the  proper  term,  expressing  this 
universal  abstract  idea,  to  whatever  occurs  to  him  in  nature  which  is  round, 
triangular,  simple,  fourfold,  &c.  Here  also  comes  up  clearly  the  reason  why 
speech  is  to  be  and  must  bo  treated  as  a  means  of  expressing  form  and  num- 
ber, in  a  special  manner,  differing  from  its  treatment  as  a  means  of  expressing 
all  the  other  qualities  which  we  observe  in  natural  objects  by  the  five  senses. 

I  therefore  began,  even  in  the  "Book  for  Mothers,"  to  lead  the  children  to- 
ward the  clear  knowledge  of  those  universal  qualities.  This  book  furnishes 
both  a  comprehensive  view  of  the  most  usual  forms  and  the  simplest  means  of 
making  the  first  relations  of  numbers  intelligible  to  the  child. 

More  advanced  steps  toward  this  purpose  must,  however,  together  with  the 
corresponding  exercises  in  language,  be  put  off  to  a  later  period,  and  must  be 
connected  with  the  special  exercises  in  number  and  form,  which  two,  as  the 
elementary  points  of  our  knowledge,  must  be  taken  up  after  a  full  course  of 
exercises  in  language. 

The  cuts  in  the  elementary  manual  for  this  instruction,  the  '' Book  for  Moth- 
ers, or  for  the  earliest  childhood,"  are  so  selected  as  to  bring  forward  all  the  uni- 
versal physical  qualities  of  which  we  become  aware  through  the  five  senses; 
and  as  to  enable  mothers  readily  to  give  their  children  the  command  of  the 
most  definite  expressions  relative  to  them,  without  any  pains  of  their  own. 

As  relates,  next,  to  those  qualities  of  things  which  become  known  to  us,  not 
immediately  through  the  five  senses,  but  through  the  separating  powers  of  our 
faculty  of  comparison,  imagination,  and  faculty  of  abstraction,  in  regard  to 
them  also,  I  adhere  to  my  principle,  not  to  endeavor  to  bring  any  human  opin- 
ion to  a  premature  ripeness,  but  to  make  use  of  the  necessary  knowledge  of 
the  appropriate  abstract  terms  by  the  children,  as  a  mere  exercise  of  memory ; 
and  also  to  some  extent  as  a  light  nourishment  for  the  play  of  their  imagina- 
tions and  of  their  powers  of  forethought. 

In  reference  to  such  objects  as  we  recognize  immediately  by  the  five  senses, 
and  in  reference  to  which  it  is  necessary  to  teach  the  child  as  quickly  as  possi- 
ble to  express  himself  with  precision,  I  take  from  a  dictionary  substances  whose 
most  prominent  qualities  are  such  as  we  can  distinguish  by  the  five  senses,  and 
put  down  with  them  the  adjectives  which  describe  those  qualities ;  as — 

(Aal)  Eel.     Slippery,  worm-shaped,  tough-skinned. 

(Aas.)  Carcass.     Dead,  offensive. 

(Abend.)  Evening.     Quiet,  cheerful,  cool,  rainy. 

(Achse.)  Axle.     Strong,  weak,  greasy. 

(Acker:)  Field.  Sandy,  clayey,  sowed,  manured,  fertile,  profitable,  unprofit- 
able. 

Then  I  reverse  this  proceeding,  and  in  the  same  way  select  from  the  dictiona- 
ry adjectives  expressing  distinguishing  qualities  of  objects  recognized  by  the 
five  senses,  and  set  down  after  them  the  substantive  names  of  objects 
ing  them : 

Rou'i         Ba  '.  hat,  moon,  sun 

Light.     Feather,  down,  air. 


PESTALOZZ1  -METHODS  OF  INSTRUCTION.  gg3 

Heavy.     Gold,  lead.,  oak-wood. 

Hot.     Oven,  summer-day,  fire. 

High.     Tower,  mountain,  giants,  trees. 

Deep.     Oceans,  seas,  cellars,  graves. 

Soft.     Flesh,  wax,  butter. 

Elastic,     Steel-springs,  whalebone. 

I  did  not  endeavor,  by  completing  these  explanatory  suffixes,  to  diminish  the 
'field  of  the  child's  independent  intellectual  activity ;  but  only  gave  a  few  terms, 
calculated  to  appeal  distinctly  to  his  senses,  and  then  inquired,  in  continuation: 
What  else  can  you  mention  of  the  same  sort? 

In  far  the  greatest  number  of  cases  the  children  found  that  their  experience 
furnished  them  additional  terms,  frequently  such  as  had  not  occurred  to  the 
teacher ;  and  thus  their  circle  of  knowledge  was  widened  and  elucidated  in  a 
manner  either  impossible  by  the  catechetical  method,  or  possible  only  with  a 
hundred  times  greater  expenditure  of  art  and  exertion. 

In  all  proceedings  by  catechisation,  the  child  is  constrained,  in  part  by  the 
limits  of  the  defined  idea  respecting  which  he  is  catechised,  in  part  by  the 
form  in  which  it  is  done,  in  part  by  the  limits  of  the  teacher's  knowledge,  and 
lastly,  and  more  important,  by  the  limits  of  a  painful  care  lest  they  should  get 
out  of  the  regular  artistic  track.  "What  unfortunate  limitations  for  the  child ! 
but  in  my  course  they  are  avoided. 

Having  finished  this  portion  of  study,  I  proceed,  by  means  of  the  dictionary, 
to  communicate  to  the  child,  now  variously  acquainted  with  the  objects  of  the 
world,  a  further  increase  of  the  gradually  growing  clearness  of  his  knowledge 
of  objects  so  far  as  known  to  him. 

For  this  purpose,  I  divide  language,  that  great  witness  of  the  past  respecting 
all  that  now  exists,  into  four  chief  heads,  viz. : — 

1.  Geography. 

2.  History. 

3.  Nature. 

4.  Natural  History. 

But  in  order  to  avoid  all  unnecessary  repetition  of  the  same  words,  and  to 
make  the  form  of  instruction  as  brief  as  possible,  I  divide  these  chief  heads  into 
some  forty  subheads,  and  bring  the  names  of  objects  before  the  children  only 
under  these  latter  subdivisions. 

I  then  turn  attention  to  that  great  object  of  my  intuitions,  myself;  or 
rather,  to  that  whole  series  of  terms  in  language  which  relate  to  myself;  by 
bringing  all  that  language,  that  great  witness  of  the  past,  says  upon  man  under 
the  following  chief  heads. 

First  head.  What  does  language  say  of  man,  considered  as  a  merely  phys- 
ical being;  as  a  member  of  the  animal  world? 

Second  head.  What  does  she  say  of  him  as  striving  toward  physical  inde- 
pendence by  means  of  the  social  state  ? 

Third  head.  What  does  she  say  of  him  as  a  reasoning  being,  striving  for 
inner  independence ;  or  self-improvement? 

I  then  divide  these  three  chief  heads,  as  before,  into  some  forty  subheads, 
and  bring  them  before  the  children  only  under  the  latter. 

The  first  exhibition  of  these  series  of  names,  both  relating  to  men  and  to  the 
other  subjects  of  the  world,  must  be  strictly  alphabetical,  without  any  inter- 


684  PESTALOZZI  -METHODS  OF  INSTRUCTION. 

mixture  of  any  opinion,  and  not  as  any  consequence  of  any  opinion ;  but  a 
gradually  increased  clearness  in  the  knowledge  of  them  must  be  attained  merely 
by  the  juxtaposition  of  similar  intuitions,  and  similar  intuitional  ideas. 

When  this  has  been  done,  when  the  witness  of  the  past  as  to  all  that  now 
exists  has  thus  been  made  useful  in  the  whole  simplicity  of  her  alphabetical 
arrangement,  I  propose  this  question: — 

How  does  the  method  arrange  these  subjects  further,  for  fuller  definition? 
To  answer  this,  a  new  labor  begins.  The  same  columns  of  words  with  which 
the  child  has  become  acquainted  in  seven  or  eight  columns,  in  an  alphabetical 
order,  almost  beyond  the  possibility  of  forgetting  them,  are  laid  before  him 
again,  in  the  same  columns,  but  in  a  classified  manner,  by  which  the  method 
arranges  them  very  differently,  and  enables  the  child  himself  to  arrange  Ihrm 
on  the  new  principle. 

The  plan  is  this:  The  different  heads,  under  which  the  words  are  to  he  newly 
arranged,  are  put  in  a  row,  and  distinguished  by  a  series  of  numbers,  .-ilil.rcvia- 
tions,  or  some  other  arbitrary  marks. 

The  child  must,  during  his  first  studies  in  reading,  become  thoroughly  master 
of  this  series  of  heads ;  and  he  may  then  find,  in  the  columns  of  words,  against 
each  \v<>nl.  the  mark  of  that  head  under  which  it  belongs;  and  thus  he  fan.  at 
first  sight  of  the  figure,  tell  under  what  head  it  belongs,  and  thus  himself  alter 
the  alphabetical  nomenclature  into  a  scientific  one. 

I  do  not  know  that  this  plan  needs  to  be  illustrated  by  an  example;  but, 
though  it  seems  to  me  almost  superfluous,  I  will  still  give  one,  on  account  of 
the  newness  of  the  plan.  Thus,  for  instance,  one  of  the  subdivisions  of  Europe 
is  Germany.  Let  the  child  first  become  acquainted,  beyond  the  power  of  for- 
getting them,  with  the  subdivision  of  Germany  into  ten  circles.  Now  let  the 
names  of  the  cities  of  Germany  be  laid  before  him  in  alphabetical  order,  to 
be  read ;  there  being,  at  the  name  of  each  city,  the  number  of  the  circle  in 
which  it  lies.  As  soon  as  he  can  read  these  names  of  cities  fluently,  let  him  be 
shown  how  the  numbers  annexed  to  them  refer  to  the  heads  above,  and  the 
child  will  after  a  few  lessons  be  able  to  locate  all  the  cities  of  Germany  accord- 
ing to  the  heads  thus  set  above  them.  Let  there  be  put  before  him,  for  instance, 
the  following  names  of  German  places,  with  figure*  :  — 

Aachen,  8  Allendorf,  5  Alti-na,  10 

Aalen,  3  Allersperg,  2  Altorf,  1 

Abendberg,  4  Alschausen,  3  Altranstadt,  9 

Aberthan,  11  Alsleben,  10  Altwasser,  13 

Acken,  10  Altbunzlau,  11  Alkerdissen,  8 

Adersbach,  11  Altena,  8  Amberg,  2 

Agler,  1  Altenau,  10  Arnbras,  1 

Ahrbergen,  10  Altenberg,  9  Amoneburi',  & 

Aigremont,  8  Altenburg,  9  Andernach,  6. 

Ala,  1  Altensalza,  10 

Allenbach,  5  Altkirchen,  8 

He  may  then  read  these  as  follows: — 
Aachen  is  in  the  Westphalian  circle. 
Abendberg  is  in  the  Franconian  circle. 
Aacken  is  in  the  Lower  Saxon  circle ;  Ac. 
The  child  will  thus  evidently  be  enabled,  at  the  first  glance  at  the  number  or 


PESTAI.OZZ I  -METHODS  OF  INSTRUCTION.  (}£5 

mark  which  distinguishes  the  head  under  which  any  word  belongs,  to  determine 
it ;  and  thus,  as  was  said,  to  change  the  alphabetical  nomenclature  into  a  scien- 
tific one. 

And  having  gone  so  far,  I  find  myself,  in  this  direction,  at  the  limit  of  my 
course,  as  peculiar  to  me ;  and  the  powers  of  the  children  so  developed,  that 
4;hey  can,  in  any  department  of  the  method  to  which  their  disposition  inclines 
them,  and  to  which  they  are  inclined  to  attend,  make  an  independent  use  for 
themselves  of  the  means  of  assistance  which  already  exist  in  all  these  depart- 
ments, 'but  which  are  of  such  a  character  that,  hitherto,  only  a  few  fortunate 
persons  have  been  able  to  use  them.  To  this  point,  and  no  further,  have  I 
sought  to  attain.  What  I  desired,  and  desire,  was,  not  to  teach  the  world  any 
art  or  science — for  I  know  none — but  to  make  more  easy  for  the  people  at 
large  the  mastery  of  the  points  of  commencement  of  all  arts  and  sciences ;  to 
open  to  the  powers  of  the  poor  and  weak  in  the  country,  neglected  and  given 
up  to  desolation,  the  approaches  to  learning,  which  are  the  approaches  to  hu- 
manity ;  and,  if  possible,  to  burn  down  the  barrier  which  keeps  the  more  lowly 
of  the  citizens  of  Europe  far  behind  the  barbarians  of  the  north  and  south  in 
respect  to  independent  intellectual  power,  which  is  the  basis  of  all  efficient  ac- 
quirement. It  keeps  them  so,  because,  notwithstanding  our  windy  boastings  on 
universal  enlightenment,  it  deprives  ten  men  to  one  of  the  right  of  all  men  in 
society,  the  right  of  being  instructed ;  or  at  least  of  the  possibility  of  making 
use  of  this  right. 

May  that  barrier,  after  my  death,  burn  up  with  a  bright  flame  I     But  yet  I 

know  that  I  myself  am  only  one  feeble  coal,  lying  among  wet  straw.     But  I 

Bee  a  wind,  and  that  not  far  off,  which  shall  kindle  the  coal  into  a  blaze ;  the 

wet  straw  around  me  will  gradually  dry,  grow  warm,  kindle,  and  at  last  burn. 

owever  wet  it  is  round  me  now,  it  will  burn,  it  will  burn  1 

But  I  have  occupied  so  much  time  with  the  second  of  the  special  means  of 
instruction  in  language,  that  I  find  I  have  not  yet  said  any  thing  of  the  third 
of  those  means,  by  which  is  to  be  attained  the  last  purpose  of  instruction,  the 
rendering  our  ideas  intelligent.  It  is  this  : — 

c.  The  endeavor  to  enable  the  child  correctly  to  define,  by  language,  the  con- 
nections of  objects  with  each  other,  and  their  intermodifications  by  number, 
tii in-,  and  relation ;  or,  rather,  to  make  still  better  understood  the  existence,  the 
qualities,  and  the  powers  of  all  those  objects  of  which  knowledge  has  been 
gained  by  the  study  of  names,  and  made  clear  to  a  certain  extent  by  juxtaposi- 
tion of  their  names  and  their  qualities. 

From  this  point  of  view  we  may  discern  the  foundations  on  which  a  real 
grammar  is  to  be  constructed,  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  further  progression  by 
which,  through  this  means,  we  are  to  arrive  at  the  last  purpose  of  instruction, 
the  rendering  intelligent  of  ideas. 

Here,  also,  I  prepare  the  children  for  the  first  steps  by  very  simple  but  still 
psychological  instruction  in  speaking;  and,  without  a  word  of  any  form  or  rule, 
I  cause  the  mother  first  to  repeat  to  the  child,  as  mere  exercises  in  speaking, 
sentences,  which  are  to  be  repeated  after  her,  almost  as  much  on  account  of  the 
training  of  the  organs  of  speech,  as  of  the  sentences  themselves.  The  two  ob- 
jects, practice  in  speaking  and  the  learning  of  words  as  language,  must  be 
kept  apart  from  each  other;  and  the  former  must  also  be  attended  to  by  itself, 
by  proper  exercises.  In  the  exercises  for  both  purposes  at  once,  then,  the 
mother  repeats  to  the  child  the  following  sentences: — 


<j£  J  PESTALOZZI.— METHODS      F  INSTRUCTION. 

The  father  is  kind. 

The  butterfly  has  variously-colored  wings. 

Cattle  eat  grass. 

The  pine  is  straight-stemmed.* 

When  the  child  has  pronounced  these  so  often  that  it  is  easy  for  him,  the 
mother  inquires,  "Who  is  good?  What  has  various-colored  wings?"  And 
again,  "What  is  the  father?  What  has  the  butterfly?"  And  so  on,  as 
follows : — 

Who  is  ?     What  are  ? 

Carnivorous  beasts  eat  flesh. 

Deer  are  light-footed. 

Boots  are  spread  out. 

Who  has?    What  has? 

The  lion  hath  strength. 

Man  has  reason. 

The  hound  has  a  keen  scent. 

The  elephant  has  a  trunk,  &c.,  &c. 

Thus  I  proceed,  through  the  whole  extent  of  the  declensions  and  conjuga- 
tions, to  unite  the  first  and  second  steps  of  these  exercises ;  going  also,  in  par- 
ticular, into  the  use  of  the  verbs,  after  a  mode  of  which  I  give  the  following 
examples : — 

Sim/pie  Connection. 
Regard — the  teacher's  words. 
Breathe — through  the  lungs. 
Bend — a  tree. 
Tie— a  sheaf,  the  stockings,  &c. 

After  this  comes  the  second  species  of  exercise,  in  verbs  in  composition ;  as, 

Regard.  I  regard  (acltte)  the  teacher's  words,  my  duty,  my  estate.  I  regard 
one  person  more  than  another  ;  I  judge  (erachte)  whether  a  thing  is  so,  or  other- 
wise; I  take  an  important  matter  into  consideration  (pbacht  ;}\  watch  over  (beo- 
bachte)  a  man  whom  I  do  not  trust,  an  affair  which  I  am  desirous  of  arranging, 
and  my  duty ;  a  good  man  honors  (hochacktet)  virtue,  and  despises  (verachtet) 
vice. 

So  far  as  a  man  regards  any  thing,  he  is  attentive  (acMsarri)  to  it ;  so  far  as  he 
does  not  regard  it,  he  is  inattentive  (unachtsam.) 

I  regard  myself  more  than  everything  else;  and  care  more  for  (achten  auf) 
myself  than  every  thing  else. 

Then  I  proceed  to  enlarge  the  sphere  of  these  exercises  by  additions  gradu- 
ally more  extensive,  and  thus  progressively  more  variously  developed  and  more 
definite;  as,  for  instance: — 

I  shall. 

I  shall  gain. 

I  shall  gain  my  health  by  no  other  means. 

I  shall  gain  my  health,  after  all  that  I  have  suffered,  by  no  other  means. 

I  .shall  gain  my  health,  after  all  that  I  have  suffered  in  my  illness,  by  no  other 
means. 

I  shall  gain  my  health,  after  all  that  I  have  suffered  in  my  sickness,  by  no 
other  means  than  by  temperance,  &c.,  &c. 

All  these  sentences  are  then  each  to  be  carried  through  the  whole  tense- 
conjugation;  as, 

I  shall  gain. 

Thou  wilt  gain,  &c. 

I  shall  gain  my  health. 

Thou  wilt  gain  thy  health,  &c. 

The  same  may  then  be  carried  through  the  different  tenses. 

Care  is  taken  to  select,  for  these  sentences,  so  firmly  to  be  fixed  in  the  child's 

'  In  the  German,  all  these  sentences  are  constructed  precisely  like  the  first ;  and  are  as 
simple. — Trans. 


PESTALOZZI .-METHODS  OF  INSTRUCTION.  <jg7 

mmu,  such  as  shall  be  particularly  instructive,  elevating,  and  suitable  to  his- 
condition. 

With  them  I  join  examples  of  description  of  material  objects,  in  order  to  ex- 
ercise and  strengthen  in  the  children  the  powers  which  these  exercises  develop 
in  them.  For  instance : — 

A  bell  is  a  bowl  or  vessel,  open  below,  wide,  thick,  round,  usually  hanging 
free,  growing  smaller  from  below  up,  egg-shaped  at  the  top,  and  having  in  the 
middle  of  it  a  perpendicular  bar,  hanging  loose,  which,  upon  a  violent  motion  of 
thu  bell,  strikes  it  from  below  on  both  sides,  and  thus  occasions  the  sound  which 
we  hear  from  it. 

Go.     To  move  forward  step  by  step. 

Stand.     To  rest  on  the  leg^s  with  the  body  upright. 

Lie.     To  rest  upon  any  thing  with  the  body  horizontal,  &c.,  &c. 

I  would  gladly  leave  these  exercises  in  language,  at  my  death,  as  a  legacy  to 
my  pupils,  making  them,  by  means  of  brief  observations  annexed  to  the  more 
important  verbs,  a  vehicle  for  conveying  to  their  minds  the  same  impressions 
which  have  been  made  upon  my  own,  by  the  experiences  of  my  life  on  the  sub- 
jects of  their  significance.  Thus  I  would  make  these  exercises  in  words  a 
means  of  imparting  truth,  correct  views,  and  pure  feelings  on  all  the  doings  and 
failings  of  men.  For  example : — 

Breathe,  (athmen.}  Thy  life  depends  upon  a  breath.  Man  !  when  thou  snort- 
est  like  a  tyrant,  and  inspirest  the  pure  air  of  the  earth  like  poison  into  thy 
lungs,  what  doest  thou  but  to  hasten  to  become  breathless,  and  so  free  humanity, 
weary  of  thy  snorting,  from  thy  presence. 

But  I  must  leave  this  part  of  the  subject. 

I  have  dwelt  at  length  upon  language  as  a  means  of  the  gradual  clearing  up 
of  our  ideas.  But  it  is  the  most  important  means  for  that  purpose.  My  meth- 
od of  instruction  is  distinguished  especially  in  this,  that  it  makes  more  use  of 
language,  as  a  means  of  lifting  the  child  from  obscure  intuitions  to  intelligent 
ideas,  than  has  heretofore  been  the  case;  and  also  in  this,  that  it  excludes 
from  the  first  elementary  instruction  all  combinations  of  words  which  presup- 
pose an  actual  knowledge  of  language.  Any  one  who  admits  how  nature  leads 
to  intelligent  comprehension  of  all  things  by  a  clear  comprehension  of  single 
things,  will  admit  also  that  single  words  must  be  clearly  understood  by  the 
child  before  he  can  intelligently  comprehend  them  in  connection;  and  any  one 
who  admits  this,  rejects  at  once  all  the  received  elementary  books  of  instruc- 
tion ;  for  they  all  presuppose  an  acquaintance  with  language  in  the  child  before 
they  communicate  it  to  him.  It  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  even  the  best  school- 
book  of  the  last  century  forgot  that  the  child  must  learn  to  talk  before  he  can 
be  talked  with.  This  omission  is  remarkable,  but  it  is  true ;  and  since  I  ob- 
served it,  I  have  wondered  no  longer  that  we  can  develop  children  into  other 
men  than  were  trained  by  those  who  had  so  far  forgotten  both  the  piety  and 
the  wisdom  of  antiquity.  Language  is  an  art — an  immeasurable  art ;  or,  rather, 
the  compendium  of  all  the  arts  which  our  race  has  acquired.  It  is  in  a  peculiar 
sense  the  reflection  of  all  the  impressions  which  the  whole  extent  of  nature  has. 
made  upon  our  race.  As  such  I  use  it,  and  seek,  by  means  of  its  spoken 
sounds,  to  produce  in  the  children  the  same  impressions  which  have  occasioned 
the  production  of  the  sounds  by  mankind.  The  gift  of  speech  is  a  great  one. 
It  gives  the  child,  in  a  moment,  what  it  has  taken  nature  thousands  of  years  to 
give  mankind.  It  is  said  of  the  poor  beast,  What  would  he  be  if  he  knew  his. 
strength?  And  I  say  of  man.  What  would  lie  be  if  he  knew  his  strength — 
through  language? 


PBSTALOZZL— METHODS  OF  INSTRUCTION. 

It  is  a  great  defect  in  the  very  heart  of  human  education,  that  we  have  been 
so  forgetful  of  what  was  proper,  as  not  only  to  do  nothing  toward  teaching 
the  lower  classes  to  speak,  but  as  to  have  permitted  the  speechless  to  learn  by 
rote  isolated  abstract  terms. 

In  truth,  the  Indians  could  not  do  more  in  order  to  keep  their  lower  classes 
eternally  in  stupidity,  and  in  the  lowest  ranks  of  humanity. 

Let  these  facts  be  denied  by  any  one  who  dares.  I  appeal  to  all  clergymen, 
all  authorities,  all  men  who  live  among  the  people,  who,  in  the  midst  of  their 
so  great  carelessness,  are  subjected  to  such  a  distorted  and  mistaken  model  of 
fatherly  care.  Let  any  one  who  has  lived  among  such  a  people  stand  forward, 
-and  testify  whether  he  has  not  experienced  how  difficult  it  is  to  get  any  idea 
into  the  heads  of  the  poor  creatures.  But  all  are  agreed  on  the  point.  "  Yes, 
yes,"  say  the  clergy;  "When  they  come  to  us  they  do  not  understand  one 
word  of  our  instructions."  "Yes,  yes,"  say  the  judges;  "However  right  they 
are,  it  is  impossible  for  them  to  make  any  one  understand  the  justice  of  their 
•cause."  The  lady  says,  pitifully  and  proudly,  they  are  scarcely  a  step  in  advance 
of  beasts ;  they  can  not  be  trained  to  any  service.  Fools,  who  can  not  count 
five,  look  upon  them  as  more  foolish  than  themselves,  the  fools ;  and  villains  of 
all  sorts  cry  out,  each  with  the  gesture  natural  to  him,  "Well  for  us  that  it  is 
so !  If  it  were  otherwise,  we  could  no  longer  buy  so  cheaply,  nor  sell  so  dearly." 

Nearly  the  same  is  the  speech  of  all  the  boxes  of  the  great  European  Chris- 
tian comic  theater,  regarding  the  pit :  and  they  can  not  speak  otherwise  of  it ; 
for  they  have  been  for  a  century  making  the  pit  more  mindless  than  any  Asiatic 
or  heathen  one  would  be.  I  repeat  my  position  once  more : — The  Christian 
people  of  our  portion  of  the  world  is  sunken  to  this  depth,  because,  for  more 
than  a  century,  in  its  lower  schools,  a  power  over  the  human  mind  has  been  ac- 
.  corded  to  empty  words,  which  not  only  in  itself  destroyed  the  power  of  atten- 
tion to  the  impressions  of  nature,  but  destroyed  the  very  susceptibility  itself  of 
men  to  them.  I  say,  once  more,  that  while  this  has  been  done,  and  has  made 
of  our  European  Christian  people  the  most  wordy,  rattle-box  people  on  the  face 
of  the  earth,  they  have  not  been  taught  to  speak.  This  being  the  case,  it  is  no 
wonder  that  the  Christianity  of  this  centur}'-  and  this  part  of  the  world  has  its 
present  prospects;  it  is,  on  the  contrary,  a  wonder  that,  considering  all  the 
bungling  methods  which  have  been  proved  upon  it  in  our  wordy  and  rattle-box 
schools,  it  has  retained  so  much  of  its  native  force  as  can  still  be  recognized 
every  where  in  the  hearts  of  the  people.  But,  God  be  praised !  the  folly  of  all 
these  apish  methods  will  always  find  an  end,  an  antagonist  in  human  nature 
itself;  and  will  cease  to  injure  our  race,  when  it  has  reached  the  highest  point 
of  its  apishness  which  can  be  endured.  Folly  and  error,  in  whatever  garb,  con- 
tain the  seeds  of  their  own  transitoriness  and  destruction ;  truth  alone,  in  every 
form,  contains  within  itself  the  seeds  of  eternal  life. 

The  second  elementary  means,  from  which  all  human  knowledge,  and  conse- 
quently the  existence  of  all  means  of  instruction,  proceeds  and  must  proceed,  is 

FORM. 

Instruction  in  form  must  precede  the  conscious  intuition  of  things  having 
form ;  whose  representation,  for  purposes  of  instruction,  must  be  deduced  in 
part  from  the  nature  of  the  means  of  intuition,  and  in  part  from  the  purpose  ot 
instruction  itself. 

The  whole  sum  of  our  knowledge  comes, 


PESTALOZZI.-METHODS  OF  INSTRUCTION.  QQCj 

1.  Through  the  impressions  derived  from  all  things  around  us,  when  brought 
into  relation  with  our  five  senses.     This  mode  of  intuition  is  without  rule,  con- 
fused, and  its  progress  is  very  confused  and  tedious. 

2.  Through  whatever  is  brought  before  our  senses  by  the  intervention  of 
methodic  guidance,  so  far  as  this  depends  upon  our  parents  and  teachers.     This 
mode  of  intuition  naturally  corresponds  to  the  intelligence  and  activity  of  our 
parents  and  teachers,  in  respect  to  comprehensiveness  and  connection ;  and  is 
of  a  more  or  less  correct  psj^chological  character ;  and,  according  to  the  same 
rule,  it  pursues  a  course  more  or  less  rapid,  and  leading  with  more  or  less  speed 
and  certainty  toward  the  purpose  of  instruction,  the  attainment  of  intelligent 
ideas. 

3.  Through  our  own  determination  to  attain  to  knowledge,  and  to  obtain  intui- 
tions by  our  independent  striving  after  the  various  means  of  them.     Knowl- 
edge thus  attained  possesses  a  positive  and  proper  value ;  and,  by  giving  to  the 
results  of  our  intuitions  a  free  existence  within  ourselves,  brings  us  nearer  to 
the  attainment  of  a  moral  influence  upon  our  own  education. 

4.  Through  the  results  of  effort  and  labor  in  our  callings,  and  all  activity 
which  has  not  mere  intuition  as  its  object.     This  department  of  knowledge  con- 
nects our  intuitions  with  our  situations  and  relations ;  brings  the  results  of  those 
intuitions  into  agreement  with  our  duty  and  with  virtue ;  and,  both  by  the  con- 
straining force  of  its  progress  and  by  our  purposelessness  as  to  its  results,  a 
most  important  influence  upon  the  correctness,  completeness,  and  harmony  of 
our  views,  as  related  to  the  attainment  of  our  purpose,  intelligent  ideas. 

5.  Through  a  means  analogous  to  our  intuitional  knowledge ;  inasmuch  as  it 
instructs  us  in  the  properties  of  things  not  pertaining  properly  to  our  intuitions, 
but  in  which  we  perceive  a  similarity  to  things  which  we  know  by  our  intui- 
tions.    This  mode  of  intuition  enables  us  to  make   our  progress  in  knowl- 
edge, which,  as  a  result  of  actual  intuition,  is  only  the  work  of  the  five  senses, 
the  work  of  our  minds  and  of  all  their  powers ;  so  that  thus  we  enjoy  as  many 
kinds  of  intuition  as  we  have  powers  of  mind.     But  the  term  intuition,  in  this 
latter  sense,  has  a  more  extended  meaning  than  in  the  common  usage  of  lan- 
guage ;  and  includes  the  whole  range  of  feelings  which  are  by  nature  insepa- 
rable from  my  mind. 

It  is  important  to  be  acquainted  with  the  distinction  between  these  two  kinds 
of  intuitions ;  in  order  to  be  able  to  comprehend  the  rules  which  apply  to  each 
of  them. 

With  this  purpose,  I  return  to  the  course  of  my  discussion. 

From  the  consciousness  of  intuition  of  things  having  form,  comes  the  art  of 
geometry.  This  however  depends  upon  a  power  of  intuition  which  it  is 
important  to  distinguish  from  the  primary  means  of  knowledge,  as  well  as  from 
the  mere  simple  intuition  of  things.  From  this  power  of  intuition  are  devel- 
oped all  the  departments  of  geometry  and  those  deduced  from  them.  But 
this  very  faculty  of  intuition  leads  us,  by  the  comparison  of  different  objects,  be- 
yond the  rules  of  surveying,  to  a  freer  imitation  of  the  relations  between  those 
objects — to  drawing;  and,  lastly,  we  make  use  of  the  art  of  drawing  in 
writing. 

GEOMETRY. 

This  presupposes  an  intuitional  ABC;  that  is,  the  power  of  simplifying  and 
defining  the  rulos  of  geometry  by  the  accurate  distinction  of  all  the  dissimilari- 
ties which  ci'tnG  before  the  intuition. 


690  PESTALOZZI  —METHODS  OF  INSTRUCTION 

I  will  draw  attention  again  to  the  empirical  succession  which  led  me  to  my. 
views  on  this  subject,  and  will  give  for  this  purpose  an  extract  from  my  Report. 

In  this  I  say,  "Having  granted  the  principle  that  intuition  is  the  basis  of  all 
knowledge,  it  follows  irresistibly  that  correct  intuition  is  the  proper  basis  of  the 
most  correct  opinions. 

"  But  with  reference  to  the  method  of  education,  thorough  correctness  of  in- 
tuition is  evidently  a  result  of  measuring  the  subject  to  be  judged  of,  or  else  of 
a  faculty  of  perceiving  relations,  so  far  developed  as  to  make  such  measuring 
superfluous.  Thus  a  readiness  at  measuring  correctly  has,  in  education,  an  im- 
mediate relation  to  the  necessity  of  intuition.  -Drawing  is  a  linear  definition  of 
forms,  whose  shape  and  contents  are  correctly  and  fully  defined  by  means  of  a 
developed  power  of  measuring. 

"The  principle  that  practice  and  readiness  in  measuring  should  precede  prac- 
tice in  drawing,  or  at  least  must  keep  pace  with  it,  is  as  obvious  as  it  is  unused. 
But  the  process  of  our  methods  of  education  is,  to  begin  with  incorrect  seeing; 
to  build  awry,  then  to  pull  down,  and  so  on  ten  times  over,  until  after  a  long 
time  the  sense  of  relations  becomes  developed,  and  then  at  last  we  come  to 
what  we  should  have  begun  with — to  measuring.  Such  is  the  proceeding  of 
our  methods,  and  yet  we  are  so  many  thousands  of  years  older  than  the  Egyp- 
tians and  Etruscans,  whose  drawings  all  depend  upon  a  trained  power  of  meas- 
uring, or  in  fact  were  at  bottom  nothing  than  measurings. 

"  And  now  the  question  comes  up,  By  what  means  is  the  child  to  be  trained 
to  this  basis  of  all  art,  the  right  meaning  of  objects  which  come  before  his  eyes  ? 
Evidently  by  a  succession  including  the  whole  of  all  possible  intuitions ;  and 
by  an  analysis  of  the  square,  according  to  simple,  certain,  and  definite  rules. 

"  Young  artists,  in  the  absence  of  such  elementary  exercises,  find  the  means, 
by  long  practice  in  their  art,  of  acquiring  greater  or  less  facility  in  so  placing 
any  object  before  their  eyes  and  imitating  it  as  it  is  hi  nature.  And  it  can  not 
be  denied  that  many  of  them,  by  painful  and  long-continued  efforts,  have,  from 
the  most  confused  intuitions,  attained  to  a  sense  of  relations  so  far  advanced 
that  the  measuring  of  objects  is  superfluous  to  them.  But  then  each  individual 
had  a  different  system;  none  of  them  had  any  nomenclature,  for  none  of  them 
had  any  distinct  conscious  comprehension  of  the  system ;  and,  accordingly,  they 
could  not  properly  communicate  it  to  their  scholars.  The  latter  were  thus  in 
the  same  condition  in  which'their  teachers  had  been,  and  were  obliged  to  attain, 
the  same  result— correct  sense  of  relations — with  the  extremest  exertion  and 
by  long  practice,  and  with  their  own  means,  or  rather  with  no  means  at  all. 
Thus  art  remained  in  the  possession  of  a  few  fortunate  individuals,  who  had 
time  and  leisure  to  travel  by  such  an  incommodious  road  to  the  requisite  attain- 
ment. Art  could  not  be  considered  as  concerning  all  men,  nor  could  instruc- 
tion in  it  be  demanded  as  a  universal  right,  although  it  is  such.  At  least,  this 
can  not  be  denied  by  any  one  who  admits  that  it  is  the  right  of  living  men,  in 
an  enlightened  state,  to  be  able  to  learn  reading  and  writing;  for  the  tenden- 
cies to  draw,  and  the  capacity  for  measuring,  develop  naturally  and  freely  in 
the  child ;  while  the  painstaking  efforts  which  must  be  made  in  order  to  bring 
him  to  spell  and  read,  must  be  applied  either  with  great  skill  or  with  harshness 
and  violence,  if  they  are  not  to  injure  him  more  than  reading  is  worth  to  him 
And  drawing,  if  it  is  to  promote  the  aim  of  instruction,  the  attainment  of  intel- 
ligent ideas,  is  necessarily  connected  with  the  measuring  of  forms.  The  child 


PESTALOZZI  —  METHODS  OF  INSTRUCTION.  ggj 

before  whom  an  object  is  placed  to  be  drawn  before  he  can  represent  to  him- 
self its  proportions  in  their  whole  form,  and  express  himself  upon  it,  can  never 
make  the  art,  as  it  should  be,  an  actual  means  of  proceeding  from  obscure  intui- 
tions to  intelligent  ideas ;  nor  procure  from  it  the  actual  substantial  advantage, 
throughout  his  whole  education  and  in  harmony  with  the  great  purpose  of  it, 
which  it  ought  to  and  can  afford  him." 

In  order  to  establish  the  art  of  drawing  upon  this  basis,  it  must  be  subordin- 
ated to  that  of  geometry ;  and  the  subdivisions  into  angles  and  curves  which 
proceed  from  the  rudimental  form  of  the  square,  as  well  as  the  divisions  of 
curves  by  straight  lines,  must  be  arranged  into  regularly  classified  geometrical 
forms.  This  has  been  done;  and  I  believe  that  I  have  arranged  a  series  of  geo- 
metrical forms,  whose  use  will  as  much  facilitate  the  child's  acquisition  of  geom- 
etry, and  his  acquaintance  with  the  proportions  of  all  forms,  as  does  the  alpha- 
bet of  sounds  his  studies  in  language. 

This  intuitional  alphabet*  is  a  symmetrical  subdivision  of  an  equilateral  square 
into  fixed  geometrical  forms,  and  evidently  requires  a  knowledge  of  the  origin 
of  the  square ;  that  is,  of  horizontal  and  perpendicular  lines. 

The  subdivision  of  the  square  by  right  lines  produces  means  of  determining 
and  measuring  angles,  circles,  and  all  curves. 

This  is  brought  before  the  child  in  the  following  manner: — 

The  qualities  of  the  right  line  are  first  explained  to  him  by  itself  alone,  and 
drawn  in  various  arbitrary  directions;  until  a  variety  of  exercises  has  given 
him  a  clear  apprehension  of  it,  without  reference  to  any  ulterior  application. 
He  is  next  made  acquainted  with  right  lines,  as  horizontal,  perpendicular,  and; 
oblique,  and  to  distinguish  them  as  inclining  or  extending  toward  the  right  or 
left ;  then  with  various  parallel  lines  and  their  names,  as  horizontal,  perpen- 
dicular, and  inclined  parallels;  then  with  the  names  of  the  different  varieties 
of  angles  formed  by  the  intersection  of  these  lines,  so  that  he  can  distinguish! 
them  as  right,  acute,  and  obtuse  angles.  He  is  then  made  acquainted  with  the 
primitive  of  all  geometrical  forms,  the  equilateral  triangle,  which  is  formed  by 
the  junction  of  two  angles,  and  with  its  divisions  into  halves,  fourths,  sixths,. 
&c. ;  and  then  with  the  circle  and  its  variations,  and  to  recognize  and  name- 
them  and  their  forms. 

All  these  definitions  are  to  be  done  merely  by  the  power  of  the  eye ;  and  the 
names  of  the  geometrical  forms  are,  in  this  part  of  the  studies,  merely  square; 
horizontal  and  perpendicular  quadrilateral,  or  rectangle;  circle,  semicircle, 
quarter-circle ;  first-oval,  half-oval,  and  quarter-oval ;  second,  third,  &c.,  oval ; 
and  thus  he  must  be  introduced  to  the  use  of  these  forms  as  means  of  geomet- 
rical study;  and  must  learn  the  nature  of  the  relations  by  which  they  are 
generated. 

*  I  should  here  observe  that  the  alphabet  of  intuition  is  the  indispensable  and  only  true 
means  of  instruction  in  judging  correctly  of  the  forms  of  all  things.  Yet  it  has  hitherto 
been  entirely  neglected,  until  it  is  entirely  unknown.  For  instruction  in  number  and  speech, 
on  the  contrary,  there  are  a  hundred  such  means  But  this  want  of  means  of  instruction  in 
form  is  not  merely  a  simple  defect  in  the  system  of  education  to  human  knowledge— it  is 
also  a  breach  in  the  necessary  foundations  of  all  knowledge.  It  is  a  defect  of  knowledge 
upon  a  point  to  which  knowledge  of  number  and  speech  must  be  subordinated.  My  alpha- 
bet of  intuition  will  supply  this  serious  defect  in  instruction,  and  assure  the  basis  upon  which 
all  other  means  of  instruction  must  be  founded.  I  beg  sue  h  Germans  as  may  be  inclined  to 
form  an  opinion  on  the  subject,  to  consider  this  position  as  the  basis  of  my  method  ;  upon 
whose  correctness  or  incorrectness  depends  fhe  value  or  worthlessness  of  all  my  researches. 


692  PE3TALOZZI.— METHODS  OF  INSTRUCTION. 

The  first  means  of  reaching  these  results  is — 

1.  The  endeavor  to  teach  the  child  to  recognize  and  name  the  relations  ol 
these  geometrical  forms. 

2.  To  enable  him  to  know  and  make  use  of  them  independently. 

Preparation  for  this  purpose  has  already  been  made  in  the  "Book  for  Moth- 
ers;" and.  various  objects  set  before  him — triangular,  round,  oval,  wide,  long, 
and  narrow.  After  this,  various  detached  portions  of  the  alphabet  of  intuition 
are  set  before  him,  as  a  quadrilateral  in  quarters,  eighths,  sixths,  &c.,  and  cir- 
cles, and  half  and  quarter-circles,  ovals,  and  half  and  quarter-ovals ;  thus  furn- 
ishing him  in  advance  with  an  obscure  consciousness  of  the  clear  conception 
which  he  must  acquire  under  the  instruction  of  the  method,  and  the  subsequent 
application  of  these  forms.  He  is  also  prepared  for  this  conception  and  appli- 
cation in  the  " Book  for  Mothers"  in  which  are  given,  on  one  hand,  the  rudi- 
ments of  a  definite  nomenclature  for  these  forms,  and,  on  the  other,  the  com- 
mencement of  arithmetic,  which  presupposes  geometry. 

The  study  of  the  alphabet  of  intuition  will  lead  toward  the  same  end ;  for  in 
that  alphabet  speech  and  number,  the  means  before  used  for  attaining  an  ob- 
scure consciousness,  are  made  more  clearly  applicable  to  the  definite  aim  of 
geometry,  and  thus  the  pupil  will  gain  a  more  assured  power  of  expressing  him- 
self definitely  as  to  the  number  and  proportion  of  all  forms. 

3.  The  third  means  of  attaining  this  purpose  is  the  copying  of  forms  them- 
selves ;  by  means  of  which  the  children,  using  at  the  same  time  the  two  other 
means  above-mentioned,  will  generally  gain  not  only  intelligent  ideas  as  to  each 
form,  but  the  power  of  laying  off  each  form  with  certainty.     In  order  to  gain 
the  first  of  those  steps,  the  relations  of  the  forms  known  to  them  in  the  first 
course  as  horizontal  and  perpendicular  quadrilaterals,  are  now  to  be  brought  out 
by  teaching  them  that  "  Horizontal  quadrilateral,  two  are  twice  as  long  as  wide ; 
perpendicular  quadrilateral,  two  are  twice  as  high  as  wide,"  &c. ;  going  through 
all  the  parts  of  the  figure  also.     In  this  exercise,  also,  on  account  of  the  various 
directions  of  the  inclined  lines  of  some  quadrilaterals,  it  must  be  shown  that,  of 
the  horizontal  ones,  some  are  once  and  a  half  times  as  high  as  wide,  &c.,  until 
the  description  is  easy.     In  like  manner  are  to  be  studied  the  various  directions 
of  inclined  lines,  and  of  acute  and  obtuse  angles,  as  well  as  the  various  subdi- 
visions of  the  circle,  and  the  ovals  and  their  parts,  arising  from  the  subdivisions ' 
of  the  square. 

By  the  recognition  of  these  definite  forms,  the  geometrical  faculty  develops 
from  an  uncertain  natural  faculty  of  intuition  to  an  artistic  power  according  to 
definite  rules ;  from  which  comes  that  power  of  judging  correctly  of  the  rela- 
tions of  all  forms,  which  I  call  the  power  of  intuition.  This  is  a  new  power; 
which  must  precede  the  former  usual  and  recognized  views  of  the  artistic  culti- 
vation of  our  powers,  as  their  common  and  actual  basis. 

By  means  of  it,  every  child  arrives,  in  the  simplest  manner,  at  the  power  of 
rightly  judging  of  every  object  in  nature  according  to  its  inner  relations,  and  its 
relations  to  other  objects ;  and  of  expressing  himself  with  distinctness  relatively 
to  it.  By  this  method  of  proceeding  he  becomes  able,  when  he  sees  any  figure, 
to  define  it  accurately,  not  only  as  to  the  proportion  between  hight  and  breadth, 
but  as  to  the  relations  of  every  variation  of  its  form  from  the  equilateral  tri- 
un-lc.  in  curves  and  crooked  outlines;  and  to  apply  to  all  these  the  names  by 
which  lliesc  variations  should  be  designated  in  the  alphabet  of  intuition.  The 


PESTALOZZI  —  METHODS  OF  INSTRUCTION.  693 

means  of  attaining  this  power  are  within  geometry  itself,  and  are  to  be  devel- 
oped still  further  by  drawing,  especially  by  linear  drawing ;  and  carried  to  such 
a  point,  that  his  power  of  definitely  measuring  objects,  with  such  a  degree  of 
skill  and  accuracy,  that  after  completing  his  course  of  elementary  exercises  he 
will  no  longer  need,  even  in  the  case  of  the  most  complicated  objects,  to  pro- 
ceed by  actual  geometrical  rules,  but  can  without  assistance  correctly  determine 
the  relations  of  all  their  parts  amongst  each  other,  and  express  himself  distinctly 
respecting  them. 

Even  children  of  inferior  capacity  attain  to  indescribably  great  results  by  the 
development  of  this  power.  This  assertion  is  no  dream.  I  have  taught  chil- 
dren on  these  principles ;  and  my  theory  on  this  subject  is  nothing  except  a  re- 
sult of  my  experience  upon  it.  Let  any  one  come  and  see  the  children.  They 
are  still  at  the  beginning  of  the  course,  but  their  beginning  has  carried  them  so 
far  that  it  must  be  a  very  extraordinary  kind  of  man  who  can  stand  by  and  not 
quickly  be  convinced ;  and  still  their  progress  is  by  no  means  extraordinary. 

DRAWING 

Is  the  ability  to  represent  to  one's  self,  in  similar  lines,  the  outlines  of  any 
object  and  what  is  contained  within  them,  by  means  of  merely  looking  at  the 
object,  and  thus  to  imitate  it  correctly. 

This  art  is  facilitated  out  of  all  measure  by  the  new  method,  since  it  is, 
throughout,  an  easy  application  of  forms  which  have  not  only  been  brought  be- 
fore the  intuition  of  the  child,  but  by  practice  in  imitating  which  he  has  ac- 
quired actual  geometrical  ability. 

The  mode  pursued  is  as  follows : — As  soon  as  the  child  can  correctly  and 
readily  draw  the  straight  horizontal  lines  with  which  the  alphabet  of  intuition 
begins,  there  are  sought  for  him,  out  of  the  chaos  of  intuitions,  figures  whose 
outline  requires  nothing  but  the  application  of  the  horizontal  lines  which  are 
already  easy  to  him,  or  at  most  only  a  not  noticeable  departure  from  them. 

Then  we  proceed  to  the  perpendicular  line,  and  then  to  the  right-angled  trian- 
gle, &c. ;  and,  in  proportion  as  the  child  is  more  assured  in  the  simple  application  of 
these  forms,  we  gradually  pass  from  them  to  the  application  of  them.  The  results 
of  the  application  of  this  rule,  entirely  coincident  with  the  essence  of  physico- 
mechanical  laws,  are  no  less  in  drawing  than  are  those  of  the  use  of  the  alpha- 
bet of  intuition  upon  the  geometrical  powers  of  the  child.  In  this  course  they 
become  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  first  elements  of  drawing  before  going 
further ;  and  accordingly,  even  in  the  first  stages  of  their  progress,  there  is  de- 
veloped in  them  a  perception  of  what  the  consequences  of  the  thorough  mas- 
tery of  the  whole  subject  will  be,  and  with  this  an  endeavor  after  perfection, 
and  a  perseverance  in  the  attainment  of  their  object,  such  as  the  foolishness 
and  disorderliness  of  the  usual  methods  would  never  produce.  The  basis  of 
this  progress  is  not  merely  in  the  cultivation  of  the  hand ;  it  is  founded  upon 
the  innermost  powers  of  human  nature ;  and  practical  books  of  geometrical 
forms  coming  in  succession  afterward,  enable  the  children,  pursuing  this  course 
on  correct  psychological  principles,  and  under  the  proper  conditions  of  physico- 
mechanical  laws,  gradually  to  attain  the  desired  point,  namely,  that  the  fur- 
ther use  of  geometrical  lines  to  be  employed  by  the  eye  shall  gradually  become 
entirely  superfluous,  and  that,  of  the  means  of  attaining  their  art,  nothing  shall 
remain  but  the  art  itself. 


694  PESTALOZZI  —  METHODS  OF  INSTRUCTION. 

WRITING. 

Nature  herself  subordinates  this  art  to  drawing,  and  to  all  the  means  by 
which  the  latter  is  taught  to  the  child  and  carried  to  perfection ;  and,  accord- 
ingly, is  actually  and  especially  subordinate  to  geometry. 

Writing  ought,  even  still  less  than  drawing,  to  be  begun  and  pursued  without 
previous  training  in  linear  geometry ;  not  only  because  it  is  itself  a  kind  of  lin- 
ear drawing,  and  does  not  allow  arbitrary  variations  from  the  fixed  lines  of  its 
forms,  but  more  particularly  because,  if  facility  is  acquired  in  it  before  drawing, 
it  must  necessarily  injure  the  hand  for  the  latter,  by  confirming  it  in  particular 
forms  before  it  has  been  sufficiently  trained  to  a  universal  capacity  for  all  forms, 
such  as  drawing  requires.  It  is  another  reason  why  drawing  should  precede 
writing,  that  it  beyond  measure  facilitates  the  proper  formation  of  the  letters  by 
the  child,  thus  saving  him  a  great  loss  of  time  spent  in  weaning  himself  from 
wrong  forms  which  he  has  been  acquiring  for  years  together.  This,  again,  is 
of  advantage  to  him  during  his  whole  course,  in  that,  even  in  the  first  begin- 
nings of  study,  he  becomes  conscious  of  the  power  to  be  acquired  by  the  mas- 
tery of  it ;  so  that,  even  in  the  first  part  of  his  studies  in  writing,  he  becomes 
resolved  not  to  leave  any  thing  incomplete  or  imperfect,  in  his  rudimentary 
acquirements. 

Writing,  like  drawing,  must  be  first  commenced  on  the  slate,  with  a  pencil ; 
children  being  competent  to  make  a  perfect  letter  on  the  slate,  at  an  age 
when  it  would  be  infinitely  difficult  to  teach  them  how  to  guide  the  pen. 

This  use  of  the  slate-pencil  before  the  pen  is  to  be  recommended,  both  in 
writing  and  drawing,  for  the  additional  reason  that  it  admits  of  the  easy  recti- 
fication of  errors ;  while,  by  the  remaining  on  the  paper  of  a  faulty  letter,  a 
worse  one  is  always  made  next. 

And  I  shall  cite,  as  a  material  advantage  of  this  method,  that  the  child  will 
wash  from  the  slate  even  perfectly  good  work ;  an  advantage  incredible  to  all 
who  do  not  know  the  importance  of  educating  children  without  presumption, 
and  so  as  to  prevent  them  from  vanity  in  attaching  value  to  the  work  of  their 
hands. 

1  divide  the  study  of  writing  into  two  epochs: — 

1.  That  in  which  the  child  is  to  become  familiar  with  the  forms  of  letters  and 
their  connection,  independently  of  the  use  of  the  pen ;  and 

2.  That  in  which  his  hand  is  to  be  trained  to  the  use  of  the  pen,  the  proper 
instrument  for  writing. 

During  the  first  of  these  epochs  I  place  the  letters  before  the  child,  in  strictly 
correct  forms ;  and  have  caused  a  copy-book  to  be  engraved,  by  means  of  which 
the  child,  if  he  has  the  advantages  consequent  upon  pursuing  my  whole  meth- 
od, can  acquire  facility  in  writing  almost  by  himself  without  assistance. 

The  characteristics  of  this  writing-book  are : — 

1.  It  dwells  sufficiently  long  upon  the  rudimentary  and  fundamental  forms  of 
the  letters. 

2  It  proceeds  gradually,  only  from  the  simple  forms  of  the  letters  to  the 
complex. 

3.  It  practices  the  child  in  the  combination  of  several  letters,  beginning  from 
the  moment  when  he  can  correctly  write  a  simple  one ;  and  goes  on,  step  by 
step,  in  the  writing  of  such  words  as  contain  those  letters  only  which  he  i? 
already  able  to  make  perfectly. 


PESTALOZZI  -METHODS  OF  INSTRUCTION.  695 

4.  Lastly,  it  has  the  advantage  of  being  cut  up  into  single  lines ;  so  that  the 
line  to  be  written  upon  can  always  be  made  to  stand  immediately  under  the 
copy. 

In  the  second  epoch,  in  which  the  child  is  to  be  introduced  to  the  use  of  the 
pen,  the  proper  instrument  for  writing,  he  is  practiced  hi  the  forms  of  the  let- 
ters and  in  their  combinations,  even  to  a  higher  degree  of  perfection ;  and  the 
teacher's  work  is  then  only  to  apply  this  perfected  skill  in  drawing  these  forms 
to  writing  proper,  by  the  use  of  the  pen. 

But  the  child  must  here  also  come  at  the  new  step  in  his  progress  with  those 
he  has  already  made.  His  first  copy  for  the  pen  is  precisely  like  his  copy  for 
the  pencil ;  and  he  must  commence  his  practice  with  the  pen  by  writing  the 
letters  as  large  as  he  drew  them,  and  only  gradually  becoming  accustomed  to 
imitating  the  smaller  usual  forms  of  writing. 

The  psychology  of  all  departments  of  education  requires  a  clear  distinction  to 
be  preserved  between  their  means ;  and  a  keen  discrimination  as  to  which  of 
them  the  child  can  and  should  be  made  to  practice  at  any  age.  As  in  all  de- 
partments, I  apply  this  principle  in  writing  also ;  and  by  a  steady  adherence  to 
this  principle,  and  with  the  help  of  the  book  of  slate-pencil  copies  founded  on 
it,  which  has  been  prepared  for  children  of  four  and  five  years  of  age,  I  confi- 
dently assert  that  by  this  method  even  an  unskillful  schoolmaster,  or  a  very 
inexperienced  mother,  can  instruct  children,  up  to  a  certain  point,  in  both  plain 
and  ornamental  writing,  without  having  themselves  been  previously  able  to  do 
it.  It  is,  in  this  particular,  as  every  where,  the  main  design  of  my  method  to 
make  home  instruction  again  possible  to  our  neglected  people ;  and  to  enable 
every  mother,  whose  heart  beats  for  her  child,  to  follow  my  elementary  exer- 
cises in  a  progressive  order,  quite  to  their  end ;  and  to  practice  them  through- 
out with  her  children.  To  do  this,  she  need  be  but  a  little  way  forward  of  the 
child  itself. 

My  heart  is  lifted  up  by  the  blessed  wishes  that  spring  from  this  idea.  But 
when  I  first  expressed  distantly  something  of  these  hopes,  I  was  answered,  from 
all  sides,  "  The  mothers  among  the  people  at  large  will  not  approve  of  it ;  "  and 
not  only  men  from  the  common  people,  but  men  who  teach  the  common  peo- 
ple— who  teach  them  Christianity! — said  to  me,  scoffingly,  "You  may  search 
all  our  villages  up  and  down,  but  you  will  find  no  mother  who  will  do  what 
you  require  from  her."  I  answered  them,  "  Then  I  will,  by  the  use  of  these 
means  of  mine,  enable  heathen  mothers  from  the  furthest  north  to  do  it;  and, 
if  it  is  really  true  that  Christian  mothers  in  peaceful  Europe — that  Christian 
mothers  in  my  fatherland — can  not  be  carried  forward  as  far  as  I  will  carry 
heathen  mothers  from  the  wild  north ; — then  I  will  call  upon  these  gentlemen, 
who  are  to-day  thus  insulting  the  people  of  the  fatherland,  whom  they  and 
their  fathers  have  hitherto  taught,  instructed,  and  directed;  and,  if  they  dare 
wash  their  hands  of  the  blame,  and  say,  "  We  are  guiltless  of  this  inexpressible 
shame  of  the  people  in  peaceful  Europe,  we  are  guiltless  of  this  unspeakable 
disgrace  of  the  best  natured,  most  teachable,  and  patient  of  all  the  European 
nations,  the  Swiss" — if  they  dare  say,  "We  and  our  fathers  have  done 
what  it  was  our  duty  to  do,  in  order  to  remove  from  our  father-land  the  name- 
less unhappiness  of  this  inhuman  condition  of  our  country  and  our  father-land, 
to  prevent  this  decay  of  the  first  foundations  of  morality  and  religion  in  our 
country  and  our  father-land" — to  these  men,  who  dared  to  tell  me,  "You  may 


696  PESTALOZZI.-METHODS  OF  INSTRUCTION. 

s«  -;uvh  the  land  up  and  down,  but  its  mothers  will  not  do  nor  desire  what  you 
wish,"  I  will  reply,  "Cry  out  to  these  unnatural  mothers  of  our  father-land,  as 
did  Christ  to  Jerusalem,  'Mothers,  mothers,  how  often  have  we  wished  to 
gather  you  under  the  wings  of  wisdom,  humanity,  and  Christianity,  as  a  hen 
gathers  her  chickens  under  her  wings,  and  ye  would  not ! '"  If  they  dare  do 
this,  then  I  will  be  silent,  and  believe  their  assertion  and  their  experience,  in- 
stead of  believing  in  the  mothers  of  the  country,  and  in  the  hearts  which  God 
has  put  into  their  breasts.  But  if  they  dare  not,  I  will  not  believe  in  them,  but  in 
the  mothers,  and  in  the  hearts  which  God  has  put  in  their  breasts ;  and  will 
moreover  meet  the  miserable  statement  with  which  they  have  rejected  from 
themselves  the  people  of  the  land,  like  the  production  of  an  evil  creation,  and 
proclaim  it  an  insult  to  the  people,  to  nature,  and  to  truth ;  and  will  go  my  way, 
like  a  wanderer  who  in  a  distant  forest  hears  a  wind  whose  blowing  he  does  not 
feel.  I  must  go  my  way,  for  the  sake  of  what  I  desire  to  speak.  I  have  all 
my  life  seen  all  manner  of  such  word-men,  hardened  in  systems  and  ideals,  with 
no  knowledge  or  respect  for  the  people ;  and  the  appearance  of  those  who  to- 
day are,  as  I  have  shown,  insulting  the  people,  is  more  similar  to  theirs  than 
any  other  that  I  know.  Such  men  believe  themselves  to  be  upon  an  eminence, 
and  the  people  at  a  depth  far  below  them ;  but  they  are  mistaken  on  both 
points,  and  like  wretched  apes,  by  the  arrogance  of  their  miserable  nature,  hin- 
dered and  made  incapable  of  right  judgment  on  the  real  value  of  actual  animal 
power,  or  that  of  real  human  endowments ;  thus  these  wretched  word-men  are, 
even  by  the  loftiest  attainments  of  their  unnatural  course,  become  incapable  of 
observing  that  they  are  walking  on  stilts,  and  that  they  must  get  down  from 
their  wretched  wooden  legs,  in  order  to  be  planted  as  firmly  as  common  people 
are,  upon  God's  earth.  I  am  forced  to  pity  them.  I  have  heard  many  of  these 
wretched  word-men  say,  with  such  a  mixture  of  nun-like  innocence  and  rabbin- 
ical wisdom,  "  What  can  be  better  for  the  people  than  the  Heidelberg  cate- 
chism and  the  psalter?"  that  I  have  been  forced,  out  of  consideration  for  hu- 
manity, to  give  up  my  respect  for  even  the  foundation  of  this  error.  And  even 
if  I  would  excuse  the  error,  it  would  still  be  an  error,  and  will  be.  Men  are 
ever  like  themselves ;  and  book -learned  men,  and  their  pupils,  have  likewise 
been  so.  I  will  therefore  open  my  mouth  no  longer  against  the  verbiage  of 
their  human  sayings,  and  the  tinkling  bells  of  their  ceremoniousness,  and  the 
delightful  foolish  frame  of  mind  which  must  naturally  thence  arise ;  but  will 
only  say,  with  that  greatest  of  men,  who  ever  beneficially  advocated  the  cause 
of  truth,  the  people,  and  love,  against  the  errors  of  the  book-learned,  "  Lord, 
forgive  them,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do." 

But  to  return :  The  study  of  writing  seems  to  appear,  in  the  third  place,  as  an 
introduction  to  learning  speech.  It  is,  indeed,  essentially,  nothing  but  a  pecu- 
liar and  special  application  of  the  latter. 

As,  therefore,  writing,  considered  as  a  study  of  form,  comes  according  to  my 
method  into  connection  with  geometry  and  drawing,  and  thus  enjoys  all  the  ad- 
vantages derivable  from  the  early  development  of  those  studies,  so,  as  a  special 
department  of  the  study  of  speech,  it  comes  into  connection  with  all  that  has 
been  done,  from  the  cradle  upward,  by  the  method  for  the  development  of  that 
faculty,  and  enjoys  the  same  advantages  which  were  secured  and  established 
lor  it,  from  the  previous  training  of  it  by  the  "  Book  for  Motiiers"  and  the  spell- 
ing and  reading-book. 


PE3TALOZZI  —  METHODS  OF  INSTRUCTION  ggf 

A  child  taught  by  this  method  knows  the  spelling-book  and  the  first  reading- 
book  almost  by  rote ;  he  knows,  to  a  great  extent,  the  basis  of  orthography 
and  speech ;  and  when  he  has  acquired  facility  in  the  forms  of  writing,  by  means 
of  the  pencil-book  and  the  first  exercises,  so  far  as  concern  single  letters  and 
their  connection,  he  will  need  no  special  copies  to  proceed  in  his  studies  in  writ- 
ing, for  he  will  then,  .by  means  of  his  knowledge  of  speech  and  orthography, 
have  the  substance  of  all  the  copies  in  his  head,  and  can  write  down,  from  the  ac- 
quaintance he  has  acquired  with  the  spelling  and  reading-books,  whole  series 
of  words ;  by  which  Ms  knowledge  of  language  is  continually  increased,  and 
his  memory  and  imagination  trained. 

The  advantages  of  exercises  in  writing  thus  arranged,  and  connected  with 
those  in  language,  are  as  follows : — 

1.  They  continually  increase  the  grammatical  facility  which  the  child  has 
already  acquired,  and  make  its  basis  in  his  mind  more  firm.     This  can  not  fail 
to  be  the  case ;  for  the  arrangement  of  the  reading-book,  in  which  nouns,  ad- 
verbs, verbs,  conjunctions,  &c.,  stand  in  separate  columns,  enables  him  to  write 
them  down  as  they  stand ;  by  which  means  he  acquires  the  power  of  determ- 
ining at  once  in  which  series  any  word  belongs  that  comes  before  him.     In  this 
manner  even  the  rules  applicable  to  these  classes  of  words  will  shape  them- 
selves in  his  mind. 

2.  By  these  exercises  in  language,  according  to  tfte  method,  is  also  cultivated 
the  general  power  of  arriving  at  intelligent  ideas;  for  the  child  may,  as  a  writ- 
ing-exercise, write  out  his  dictionary,  according  to  the  headings  and  distinctions 
of  the  series  of  subdivisions  which  In-  has  already  learned,  into  groups  of  words, 
and  thus  arrange  for  himself  orderly,  generalized  views  of  the  various  classes  of 
things. 

3.  The  means  of  gradually  attaining  to  intelligent  ideas  by  writing-exercises 
are  re-enforced  in  two  ways :  first,  because  the  pupil  gains  practice  both  by  the 
writing  and  reading-lessons,  through  the  elucidatory  juxtapositions  of  the  im- 
portant nouns,  verbs,  adverbs,  &c. ;  and,  second,  he  gains  independent  power  in 
discovering  and  adding  the  ideas  derived  from  his  own  experience  to  the  various 
series  of  terms  whose  chief  conceptions  he  has  made  his  own  while  engaged 
in  studying  reading. 

Thus,  in  the  writing-exercises,  for  example,  he  sets  down  not  only  the  names 
of  what  he  has  learned  in  the  reading-book  to  call  "high"  and  "pointed,"  but 
he  practices  himself,  and  the  very  task  stimulates  him  to  do  so,  in  remembering 
and  adding  such  objects  as  he  recollects,  within  his  own  experience,  of  that 
form. 

I  will  give  an  example,  to  illustrate  the  investigating  spirit  of  children  as  to 
such  additions. 

I  gave  out  to  them  the  word  "  Three-cornered ; "  of  which,  along  with  a 
country  schoolmaster,  they  furnished  the  following  instances : — 

Three-cornered  :  Triangle :  plumb-level ;  half  a  neck-cloth  ;  carpenter's  square; 
a  kind  of  file ;  bayonet ;  pnsm ;  beech-nut ;  engraver's  scraper ;  wound  left  by 
leech ;  blade  of  a  sword-cane ;  buckwheat  kernel ;  leg  of  a  pair  of  dividers  ;  the 
under  surface  of  the  nose ;  leaf  of  "  Good  Henry ; "  spinach  leaf;  seed-pod  of 
tulip ;  figure  4  ;  seed-pod  of  shepherd's  pouch. 

They  found  still  others  on  tables,  and  in  round  windows,  which  they  were 
unable  to  give  names  for. 

The  like  is  the  case  with  reference  to  the  addition  of  adjectives  to  the  nouns. 


C98  PE8TALOZZI— METHODS  <>,'  INSTRUCTION. 

For  instance,  tli9  children  annexed  to  the  nouns  eel,  egg,  evening,  not  only  all 
the  adjectives  which  they  had  learned  as  annexed  to  them  in  the  reading-book, 
but  those  also  which  their  own  experience  enabled  them  to  add  as  appropriate. 
Thus,  by  this  mode  of  collecting  the  qualities  of  all  things,  they  arrive,  by  the 
simplest  of  processes,  at  the  means  of  becoming  acquainted  and  familiar  with 
the  nature,  essence,  and  qualities  of  all  things,  from  various  directions,  and  in 
a  mode  harmonizing  with  their  own  experience.  The  same  is  true  of  verbs ; 
as,  for  instance,  if  the  children  are  to  elucidate  the  verb  "to  observe,"  by  ad- 
ding nouns  and  adverbs  to  it,  they  would  elucidate  or  accompany  them,  not 
only  with  the  words  which  they  had  found  accompanying  them  in  the  reading- 
book,  but  would  add  others,  as  in  the  previous  case. 

The  consequences  of  these  exercises  are  far-reaching.  The  descriptions 
which  the  children  have  learned  by  rote,  as  of  the  bell,  going,  standing,  lying, 
the  eye,  the  ear,  &c.,  become  definite  and  universal  guides  to  them,  by  means 
of  which  they  become  able  to  express  themselves,  both  orally  and  in  writing, 
as  to  every  thing  with  whose  form  and  contents  they  become  acquainted.  It 
will  of  course  be  observed,  that  this  result  can  be  reached,  not  by  isolated,  ex- 
clusive practice  in  writing,  but  by  connecting  it  with  the  whole  series  of  means 
by  which  the  method  gradually  elevates  its  pupils  to  the  attainment  of  intelli- 
gent ideas. 

It  is  also,  as  standing  hi  connection  with  the  whole  course  of  instruction,  that 
I  say  of  the  study  of  writing,  that  it  should  be  completed,  not  merely  as  an  art, 
but  as  a  business  acquirement ;  and  that  the  child  should  be  carried  to  such  a 
degree  of  facility  in  it,  that  he  shall  be  able  to  express  himself  as  distinctly 
respecting  it,  and  use  it  as  easily  and  as  universally,  as  speaking. 

The  third  elementary  means  of  our  knowledge  is 

NUMBER. 

While  sound  and  form  lead  us  toward  the  intelligence  of  ideas,  and  the  intel- 
lectual independence  which  are  attained  through  them,  by  the  use  of  various 
means  of  instruction  subordinate  to  themselves,  arithmetic  is  the  only  depart- 
ment of  instruction  which  makes  use  of  no  such  subordinate  means,  but  seems, 
throughout  the  whole  extent  of  its  influence,  to  be  only  a  simple  result  of  the 
primitive  faculty,  by  which  we  represent  clearly  to  ourselves,  in  all  cases  of  in- 
tuition, the  relations  of  greater  and  less,  and,  in  cases  where  measurement  is 
impossible,  to  form  a  perfectly  clear  idea  of  the  relation. 

Sound  and  form  often,  and  in  various  ways,  contain  within  themselves  a  germ 
of  error  and  delusion  ;  but  number,  never :  it  alone  leads  to  infallible  results ; 
and,  if  geometry  makes  the  same  claim,  it  can  be  only  by  means  of  the  applica- 
tion of  arithmetic,  and  in  conjunction  with  it ;  that  is,  it  is  infallible,  as  long  as 
it  arithmeticizes. 

Since,  therefore,  this  department  of  instruction,  which  leads  with  most  cer- 
tainty toward  the  purpose  of  all  instruction — intelligent  ideas — must  be  hon- 
ored as  the  most  important  of  all  the  departments,  it  is  therefore  evident  that  it 
must  also  be  pursued  universally,  and  with  the  utmost  care  and  wisdom  ;  and 
that  it  is  of  the  utmost  importance  for  the  attainment  of  the  ultimate  object  of 
education ;  and  also  that  it  should  be  put  in  a  form  which  shall  admit  all  the 
advantages  which  a  profound  psychology  and  a  most  comprehensive  knowledge 
of  the  invariable  laws  of  the  physical  mechanism  of  instruction  can  secure.  T 


PESTALOZZI.-METHODS  OF  INSTRUCTION.  (399 

have,  therefore,  made  the  utmost  efforts  to  bring  arithmetic  before  the  intuition 
of  the  child,  as  the  clearest  result  of  these  laws;  and  not  only  to  reduce  the 
element  of  it  in  the  mind  to  that  simplicity  which  they  wear  in  the  actual  phe- 
nomena of  nature,  but  also  to  preserve  this  same  simplicity,  without  any  varia- 
tion, strictly  and  without  exception,  in  every  step  of  onward  progress ;  in  the 
conviction  that  even  the  furthest  attainments  in  this  study  can  only  be  the 
means  of  true  enlightenment — that  is,  means  of  attaining  to  intelligent  ideas 
and  correct  views — so  far  as  it  is  developed  in  the  human  mind  in  the  same 
order  of  progress  in  winch  it  proceeds  from  nature  herself,  from  the  very 
beginning. 

ARITHMETIC. 

This  arises  wholly  from  the  simple  collocation  and  separation  of  several  uni- 
ties. Its  primitive  formula  is  evidently  as  has  been  stated.  One  and  one  make 
two,  and  one  from  two  leaves  one.  Every  figure,  whatever  its  value,  is  in 
itself  only  a  mode  of  abbreviating  this  rudimentary  form  of  all  computation. 
It  is,  however,  important  that  the  recollection  of  the  primitive  form  of  the  rela- 
tions of  numbers  should  not  be  weakened  in  the  mind  by  the  abbreviated 
means  of  arithmetic ;  but  that  they  should,  by  means  of  the  forms  in  which  the 
study  is  pursued,  be  carefully  and  deeply  impressed  upon  it ;  and  that  all  prog- 
ress in  this  department  toward  the  end  proposed  should  be  founded  upon  that 
deeply-seated  consciousness  of  the  material  relations  which  lies  at  the  basis  of 
all  arithmetic.  If  this  does  not  happen,  the  very  first  means  of  attaining 
intelligent  ideas  would  be  degraded  to  a  mere  plan  of  memory  and  imagination, 
and  thus  made  powerless  for  its  real  object. 

This  must,  of  course,  be  the  case ;  for  if,  for  instance,  we  lean,  by  rote  that 
three  and  four  are  seven,  and  then  proceed  to  use  this  seven  as  if  we  really 
knew  that  three  and  four  made  it,  we  should  deceive  ourselves;  for  the  inner 
truth  of  the  seven  would  not  be  in  us,  since  we  should  not  be  conscious  of  the 
material  basis  which  alone  can  give  the  empty  words  any  truth  for  us.  The 
fact  is  the  same  in  all  the  departments  of  human  knowledge.  Drawing,  in  like 
manner,  if  not  based  upon  the  geometry  from  which  it  is  deduced,  loses  that 
internal  truthfulness  by  means  of  which  only  it  can  lead  us  toward  intelligent 
ideas. 

I  begin,  in  the  t;  Book  for  Mothers,"  to  endeavor  to  make  upon  the  child  that 
firm  impression  of  the  relations  of  numbers,  as  such  actual  interchanges  of  more 
and  less,  as  may  be  observed  in  objects  discernible  by  the  eye.  The  first  tables 
of  that  work  contain  a  series  of  objects  intended  to  bring  distinctly  before  the 
eyes  of  the  children  the  ideas  of  one,  two,  three,  &c.,  up  to  ten.  Then  I  let  the 
children  select  from  the  pictures  the  objects  which  represent  one;  then  the 
twos,  threes,  &c.  Then  I  make  the  same  relations  familiar  to  them  by  their 
fingers,  or  with  peas,  small  stones,  or  such  other  objects  as  may  be  at  hand ; 
and  I  daily  renew  the  consciousness  of  the  numbers  hundreds  and  hundreds  of 
times,  by  the  division  of  words  into  syllables  and  letters  on  the  spelling-board, 
and  asking,  How  many  syllables  has  that  word  ?  What  is  the  first  ?  The  sec- 
ond ?  &c.  In  this  manner  the  primitive  form  of  all  arithmetic  becomes  deeply 
impressed  upon  the  children's  minds,  by  which  means  they  become  familial 
with  the  means  of  abbreviating  it,  by  figures,  with  the  full  consciousness  of 
their  inner  truth,  before  proceeding  to  the  use  of  the  figures,  without  keeping  this 
-background  of  intuition  before  their  eyes.  Aside  from  the  advantage  of  thus 


700  PESTALOZZI  —  METHODS  OF  INSTRUCTION. 

making  arithmetic  a  basis  for  intelligent  ideas,  it  is  incredible  how  easy  the 
study  thus  becomes,  even  to  children,  through  this  assured  preparation  of  the  in- 
tuition ;  and  experience  shows  that  the  beginning  even  is  difficult  only  because 
this  psychological  rule  is  not  used  to  the  proper  extent.  I  must,  therefore,  go 
somewhat  more  into  detail  upon  such  of  my  rules  as  are  here  applicable. 

Besides  the  steps  already  mentioned,  and  after  them,  I  make  use  of  the  spell- 
ing-tablets also  as  a  means  of  teaching  arithmetic.  I  call  each  tablet  one,  and 
A  ith  the  child  at  a  time  when  it  can  learn  its  letters,  to  instruct  it  in  the 
knowledge  of  the  relations  of  numbers.  I  lay  down  one  tablet,  and  ask  the 
child,  "Are  there  many  tablets?"  He  answers,  "No;  only  one."  Then  I 
put  one  more,  and  say,  "  One  and  one.  How  many  is  it?  "  The  child  answers, 
"  One  and  one  are  two."  And  so  I  go  on,  adding  only  one  at  a  time,  then  two. 
three,  &c.,  at  a  time. 

When  the  child  has  thoroughly  mastered  the  combinations  of  one  and  one,  as 
far  as  ten,  and  states  them  with  entire  facility,  I  put  the  spelling-tablets  before 
him  in  the  same  manner,  but  vary  the  question,  and  say,  "  If  you  have  two 
tablets,  how  many  times  one  tablet  have  you  ?  "  The  child  sees,  reckons,  and 
answers  correctly,  "  If  I  have  two  tablets,  I  have  twice  one  tablet," 

When  he  has  thus,  by  the  limited  and  often-repeated  computation  of  their 
parts,  gained  a  clear  understanding  of  the  number  of  ones  in  each  of  the  first 
numbers,  the  question  is  varied  again,  and  he  is  asked,  with  the  tablets  in  sight 
as  before,  "How  many  times  one  are  two?  how  many  times  one  are  three?" 
Ac.;  and  again,  " How  many  times  is  one  in  two;  in  three ?"&c.  When  the 
child  has  thus  become  acquainted  with  the  simplest  rudimentary  forms  of  addi- 
tion, multiplication,  and  division,  and  intuition  has  enabled  him  to  master  the 
essence  of  the  processes,  the  next  step  is  to  make  him  thoroughly  acquainted, 
in  like  manner,  by  intuition,  with  the  rudimentary  forms  of  subtraction.  This 
is  done  as  follows : — From  the  whole  ten  tablets  together  I  take  away  one,  and 
ask,  "If  you  take  away  one  from  ten,  how  many  remains?"  The  child  reck- 
ons, finds  nine,  and  answers,  "If  I  take  one  away  from  ten,  there  remain  nine." 
Then  I  take  away  another,  and  ask,  "One  less  than  nine  is  how  many?  "  The 
child  reckons  again,  finds  nine,  and  answers,  "One  less  than  nine  is  eight." 
And  so  it  proceeds  to  the  end. 

This  mode  of  explaining  arithmetic  can  be  practiced  by  means  of  the  follow- 
ing series  of  figures : — 

1  11  11  11  &c. 
1  111  111  111  &c. 
1  1111  1111  1111  &c. 

When  the  additions  in  one  of  these  columns  are  finished,  they  may  be  used 
for  subtraction ;  e.  g. : — 

If  one  and  two  are  three,  and  two  and  three  make  five,  and  two  and  five 
make  seven,  &c.,  up  to  twenty-one ;  then  two  tablets  may  be  removed,  and  the 
question  asked,  "  Two  less  than  twenty-one  is  how  many  ?  "  and  so  on,  until 
none  are  left. 

The  knowledge  of  the  greater  or  less  number  of  objects,  which  is  awakened 
in  the  child  by  the  laying  before  him  of  actual  movable  bodies,  is  strengthened 
again  by  the  use  of  arithmetical  tables,  by  means  of  which  the  same  succes- 
sions of  relations  are  set  before  him  in  lines  and  points.  These  tables  are  used 
*e  guides,  in  reference  to  computing  with  real  objects,  as  the  spelling-book  is  in 


PESTALOZZI.- METHODS  OF  INSTRUCTION.  701 

connection  with  writing  words  on  the  blackboard ;  and  when  the  child  has  pro- 
•  ceeded  as  far,  in  reckoning  with  real  objects,  as  these  tables,  which  are  entirely 
based  on  intuition,  his  apprehension  of  the  actual  relations  of  numbers  will 
have  become  so  strengthened,  that  the  abbreviated  modes  of  proceeding  by  the 
usual  figures,  even  without  the  intuition  of  objects,  will  be  incredibly  easy  to 
him,  while  his  mind  will  have  been  preserved  from  error,  defects,  and  fanciful 
instructions.  Thus  it  may  be  said,  with  strict  correctness,  that  such  a  study  of 
arithmetic  is  exclusively  an  exercise  of  the  reason,  and  not  at  all  of  the  memo- 
ry, nor  any  mechanical  routine  practice  ;  but  the  result  of  the  clearest  and  most 
definite  intuitions,  and  leading  to  nothing  except  to  inteDigent  ideas. 

But  as  increase  and  decrease  takes  place,  not  only  by  increase  and  decrease 
of  the  number  of  single  objects,  but  by  the  division  of  single  objects  into  sev- 
eral parts,  there  thus  arises  a  second  form  of  arithmetic,  or,  rather,  a  method  is 
offered  by  which  each  single  object  may  itself  be  made  the  basis  of  an  infinite 
partition  of  itself,  and  an  infinite  division  into  single  parts  existing  within  it. 

And  as,  in  the  previous  form  of  arithmetic,  the  number  one  was  taken  as  the 
starting-point  for  the  increase  and  decrease  in  the  number  of  single  objects,  and 
as  the  basis  of  the  intuitional  knowledge  of  all  their  changes,  in  like  manner  a 
figure  must  be  found  in  the  second  form  of  arithmetic  which  shall  occupy  the 
same  place.  It  must  be  infinitely  divisible,  and  all  its  parts  alike ;  a  figure  by 
which  the  parts  in  fractional  arithmetic,  each  first  as  part  of  a  whole,  and  again 
as  independent,  undivided  unities,  may  be  brought  before  the  intuition  in  such 
a  way  that  every  relation  of  a  fraction  to  its  integer  may  be  presented  to  the 
child's  eye  as  definitely  and  accurately  as,  by  our  method,  hi  the  simple  form 
of  arithmetic,  the  number  one  was  seen  by  him  to  be  distinctly  contained  three 
times  in  three. 

No  figure  will  serve  this  purpose  except  the  equilateral  square. 

By  means  of  this  figure  we  can  place  before  the  eye  of  the  child  the  relation 
of  the  parts  to  unity ;  that  is,  the  progressive  series  of  fractions,  beginning  with 
the  universal  starting-point  of  all  increase  and  decrease,  the  number  one,  with 
as  much  distinctness  as  we  formerly  set  before  him  in  a  sensible  form  the  in- 
crease and  decrease  of  whole  unities.  I  have  also  prepared  an  intuitional  table 
of  fractions,  in  eleven  columns,  each  consisting  of  ten  squares.  The  squares  in 
the  first  column  are  whole,  those  in  the  second  are  divided  into  two  equal  parts, 
those  in  the  third  into  three,  &c.,  as  far  as  ten.  This  simply-divided  table  is 
followed  by  a  second,  in  which  these  simple  intuitional  divisions  are  continued 
in  a  further  progression.  The  squares,  which  in  the  first  table  are  divided  into 
two  equal  parts,  are  now  divided  into  two,  four,  six,  eight,  ten,  twelve,  four- 
teen, sixteen,  eighteen,  and  twenty  parts ;  those  in  the  next  column  into  three. 
six.  nine,  twelve,  &c. 

As  this  intuitional  alphabet  consists  of  geometrical  forms,  which  are  derived 
from  the  tenfold  subdivision  of  an  equilateral  square,  it  is  evident  that  we  have 
established  a  common  source  for  the  alphabet  of  intuition,  and  this  arithmetical 
alphabet ;  or,  rather,  that  we  have  established  such  a  harmony  between  the 
elementary  means  of  instruction  in  form  and  number,  that  our  geometrical 
forms  are  made  the  primary  basis  of  the  relations  of  numbers,  and  the  funda- 
mental relations  of  numbers,  on  the  other  hand,  the  primary  basis  of  the  geo- 
metrical forms. 

In  this  manner  we  arrive  at  the  conclusion  that  we  can  not  teach  children 


7 Oil  PESTALOZZI.— METHODS  OF  INSTRUCTION. 

arithmetic,  under  our  method,  except  by  the  use  of  the  same  alphabet  whicb 
we  used  previously  as  an  alphabet  or  intuition  in  the  more  restricted  sense ; 
that  is,  aa  a  basis  for  measuring,  writing,  and  drawing. 

The  child's  apprehension  of  the  actual  material  relations  of  all  fractions  will 
become  so  clear  by  the  use  of  this  table,  that  the  study  of  fractions  in  the  usual 
figures,  aa  in  the  case  of  the  arithmetic  of  integers,  will  become  incredibly  easy. 
Experience  shows  that  by  this  method  the  children  arrive  four  or  five  years 
earlier  at  a  proper  facility  by  this  method  than  could  possibly  be  the  case  without 
its  use.  These  exercises  also,  as  well  as  the  previous  ones,  preserve  the  child's 
mind  from  confusion,  omissions,  and  fanciful  instructions ;  and  in  this  respect 
also  it  may  be  said,  with  distinctness,  that  this  mode  of  studying  arithmetic  is 
exclusively  a  training  of  the  reason  ;  in  no  sense  a  mere  exercise  of  memory, 
nor  any  routine  mechanical  process.  It  is  the  result  of  the  clearest  and  most 
definite  intuitions ;  and  leads,  by  an  easy  path,  through  correct  understanding, 
to  iruth. 


TEACHING  AS  THE  FATHER  OF  A  FAMILY. 

[PROM  BIBER'B  LIFE  OF  PESTALOZZI.] 


THE  spirit  in  which  Pestalozzi  presided  over  his  house  can  not  be 
better  described  than  by  his  own  words,  in  the  discourses  which  he 
addressed  to  the  whole  family  every  Christmas  Eve  and  New-Year's 
Day.  One  of  these,  delivered  on  Christmas  Eve,  1810,  will  be  read 
with  interest,  as  it  is  not  only  a  faithful  expression  of  the  tone  which 
he  maintained  in  his  establishment,  but  affords,  at  the  same  time,  a 
pleasing  picture  of  that  peculiarity  of  continental  custom,  by  which 
Christmas  Eve  and  New-Year's  Day  are  consecrated  as  the  two  great 
family  festivals. 

Children,  sons  and  daughters  of  this  house,  and  ye  matured  men,  my  friend* 
and  brethren ! 

What  is  there  in  this  day  that  calls  for  rejoicing !  For  nearly  twice  ten  cen- 
turies, this  hour  has  ever  been  an  hour  of  gladness !  Is  its  joy,  peradventure, 
worn  out  with  age,  and  do  we  possess  no  more  than  the  dregs  and  forms  of  its 
sacred  solemnity?  If  so,  I  would  rather  not  partake  in  it;  I  would  not  rejoice^ 
but  mourn,  in  this  hour  of  ancient  joy.  And  I  ask  :  That  ancient  joy,  what  waa 
it  ?  And  I  look  around  me,  to  see  what  it  is  now.  I  have  heard  of  the  ancients, 
and  I  have  partly  seen  it  in  my  own  days,  that  Christmas  Eve  was  a  night  on  the 
earth  above  all  earthly  nights.  Its  shades  were  brighter  than  the  noon-day  of 
highest  earthly  joy.  The  anniversaries  of  national  emancipation  from  the  thral- 
dom of  tyranny  were  not  to  be  compared  to  that  heavenly  night,  the  night  of 
heavenly  rejoicing.  Through  the  holy  silence  of  its  service  resounded  the  words : 
"  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  and  unto  men  purity  of  heart." 
It  was  as  if  the  angels  were  again  gathering  together  over  the  heads  of  men  in 
that  hour,  praising  God  that  a  Saviour  was  born  unto  the  world.  Oh!  in  those 
days,  Christmas  Eve  was  indeed  a  holy  night,  whose  joys  no  words  can  describe, 
its  bliss  no  tongue  declare.  The  earth  was  changed  into  a  heaven  every  such 
night.  God  in  the  highest  was  glorified,  on  earth  there  was  peace,  and  gladnesa 
among  the  children  of  men.  It  was  a  joy  flowing  from  the  innermost  sanctuary  of 
the  heart,  not  a  joy  of  human  affection.  The  joys  of  human  affection  are  tied  ta 
place  and  outward  circumstances ;  they  are  individual  joys.  But  the  joy  of  our 
ancient  Christmas  Eve  was  a  universal  joy,  it  was  the  common  joy  of  humankind  ; 
for  it  was  not  a  human,  but  a  divine  rejoicing. 

Friends  and  brethren,  and  ye,  my  children  ;  Oh  that  I  could  lead  you  back  ta 
Christendom  of  old,  and  show  you  the  solemnity  of  this  hour  in  the  days  of  sim- 
plicity and  faith,  when  half  the  world  was  ready  to  suffer  death  for  the  faith  iu 
Christ  Jesus ! 

My  friends  and  brethren !     Oh  that  I  could  show  you  the  joys  of  Christmas 


704  PESTALOZZI  AS  THE  FATHER  OF  A  FAMILY. 

Eve  in  the  mirror  of  those  days!  The  Christian  stood  at  this  h<>m  in  the  midst 
of  his  brethren,  his  heart  tilled  with  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  his  hand  with  earthly 
gifts.  Thus  stood  the  mother  among  her  children,  the  master  among  his  work- 
men, the  landlord  among  his  tenants.  Thus  assembled  the  congregation  before 
its  pastor ;  thus  the  rich  entered  the  cottage  of  the  poor.  Tin's  was  the  hour  in 
which  enemies  offered  each  other  the  hand  of  reconciliation,  in  uhich  the  heavily 
laden  sinner  knelt  down,  praying  in  tears  for  the  pardon  of  his  transgressions,  and 
rejoicing  in  his  heart  that  a  Saviour  was  born  to  take  away  sin. 

This  hour  of  heavenly  joy  was  i\n  hour  of  sanctificatiou ;  the  earth  was  a 
heaven-like  earth,  and,  though  the  dwelling-place  of  mortal  man,  breathed  the 
breath  of  immortality.  Death  and  sorrow  seemed  to  have  departed  from  the 
earth.  The  holy  joys  of  that  night  lightened  the  burdens  of  the  poor,  and  eased 
the  pangs  of  the  wretched.  Prisoners,  who  had  long  been  shut  out  from  the  light 
of  day,  were  liberated  on  that  night,  and  returned,  as  if  led  by  an  angel  of  God, 
to  their  desolate  homes,  to  their  wives  and  children,  who  were  kneeling,  weeping, 
and  praying  for  their  deliverance ;  for  the  heart  of  the  judge  had  softened  itself 
in  the  joy,  that  to  him  too  a  Saviour  was  born,  and  it  had  grown  milder  toward 
his  fellow-men,  his  enemy,  and  his  captive.  Even  the  criminal  under  sentence 
of  death,  whom  no  human  power  could  rescue  from  his  fate,  was  more  kindly 
treated ;  words  of  peace,  words  of  life  everlasting,  instilled  comfort  into  his 
trembling  nerves.  He  felt  not  merely  his  guilt  ari:l  misery;  he  felt  the  pardon 
of  iniquity,  and  when  his  hour  drew  near,  he  went  to  meet  his  end  with  manly 
composure.  Many  thousands,  entangled  in  debt  by  the  necessity  or  the  weakness 
of  life,  and  persecuted  by  the  arms  of  the  law  with  merciless  rigor,  obtained  in 
this  sacred  interval  remission  of  their  debts  from  the  more  generous  feelings  of 
their  creditors,  who,  in  the  joy  of  having  a  Redeemer  born  to  them,  became 
th- -nisei ves  the  redeemers  of  unfortunate  debtors. 

Oh,  what  a  night  was  Christmas  Eve  to  ancient  Christendom  !  Oh  that  I 
could  describe  its  blessings,  and  your  hearts  would  be  moved  to  seek  God's  Holy 
Spirit,  and  your  hands  would  tremblingly  give  and  receive  human  gifts  sanctified 
by  the  solemnity  of  this  hour;  for  you  would  remember,  that  in  this  hour  \v;is 
born  unto  you  Christ  the  Saviour,  and  you  would  rejoice  in  him  with  a  holy  joy. 

Oh  that  Christ  Jesus  would  now  appear  to  us  in  spirit !  that  we  might  all  be 
like  unto  our  children,  to  whom  the  invisible  love  of  God  is  made  manifest  in  the 
Christ-child*  under  the  form  of  an  innocent  babe,  like  unto  them  in  appearance, 
but  descending  from  heaven,  with  pleasant  gifts.  Oh  that  the  joy  of  this  hour, 
wh'-r.-with  we  rejoice  over  the  birth  of  our  Saviour,  could  enable  us  to  see  in 
spirit  the  divine  love  of  Christ  Jesus,  giving  himself  up  to  death  to  be  a  ransom 
for  us.  Let  us  rejoice  in  the  hour  in  which  he  was  made  flesh,  in  the  hour  in 
which  he  brought  into  the  world  the  great  gift  of  his  death  to  be  deposited  on  the 
altar  of  divine  love.  From  this  hour  was  he  the  Lord's  High  Priest,  the  victim 
for  our  sins. 

My  friends,  my  brethren  and  sisters !  let  us  pray  :  "  Bring  back,  Oh  Lord, 
bring  back  unto  the  world  those  happy  days,  when  mankind  were  truly  rejoicing 

*  Christmas  Eve  abroad  is  the  time  when  children  receive  gifts  of  every  kind  from  their 
parents,  godfathers,  &c  ;  but  instead  of  "  Christmas  boxes,"  they  are  "Christmas  trees,"— 
young  fir-stems,  lighted  up  with  little  wax-tapers,  on  the  twigs  of  which  all  the  glittering 
gifts  are  hung.  The  preparation  of  the  "  Christmas  tree  "  is  a  family  mystery,  and  if  the 
child  ask  from  whence  all  the  goodly  things  come,  the  answer  is,  :-The  Christ-child  brought 
them."— B. 


PESTALOZZI  AS  THE  FATHER  OF  A  FAMILY.  705 

in  their  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  and  in  the  hour  of  his  birth.  Bring  back  unto  U3 
those  times,  when  at  this  hour  the  hearts  of  men  were  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost, 
and  their  hands  with  gifts  of  brotherly  love.  Oh  heavenly  Father,  thou  wilt 
bring  them  baek  if  we  seek  for  them.  And,  as  one  of  old  asked  Jesus  Christ: 
*  Lord,  what  must  I  do  to  be  saved?'  even  so  let  us  ask  :  '  Lord,  what  must  we 
do,  that  Christmas  Eve  may  bring  unto  us  those  blessings  which  it  brought  to 
the  Christian  world  in  its  better  days  ?  what  must  we  do  that  the  joy  of  Christmas 
may  be  an  universal  joy  to  our  house,  as  it  was  in  the  days  of  old  to  all  mankind  ?'  " 

It  is  by  answering  this  question,  my  friends  and  brethren,  that  I  will  endeavor 
to  edify  you  in  the  solemn  moments  of  this  festival,  so  sacred  to  the  Christian's 
heart, 

My  friends,  my  brethren  !  the  joy  of  Christmas  was  to  our  fathers  a  universal 
joy,  the  common  joy  of  humankind,  because  it  was  the  joy  of  holy  and  heavenly 
love.  In  like  manner  in  our  house,  the  joy  of  Christmas  will  become  a  universal 
joy  only  if  it  become  among  us  a  joy  of  holy  and  heavenly  love.  The  fellowship 
•of  love  is  the  only  true  source  of  fellowship  in  rejoicing  5  its  divine  power  alone 
can  break  the  bonds  by  which  joy  is  restrained  in  the  human  breast.  In  the 
absence  of  that  love,  our  joy  is  only  the  joy  of  individuals  in  single  objects,  in 
whose  excitement  selfishness  is  enthroned.  The  troop  of  the  joyful  is  separated 
from  the  multitude  of  the  mournful ;  and  the  latter  are  left  to  their  fate  without 
one  feeling  of  sympathy,  while  the  former,  full  of  envy  and  anxiety,  are  jealously 
guarding  the  sources  of  their  joy,  lest  any  of  those  that  are  rejoicing  with  them 
should  divert  its  streams  into  their  own  channels.  Such  is  the  joy  which,  fettered 
by  the  bonds  of  human  selfishness,  is  unable  to  rise  into  a  holy  and  divine  feeling. 

My  friends  and  brethren  !  wherever  the  fellowship  of  love  is  wanting,  the  fel- 
lowship of  joy  is  precluded.  If,  then,  we  desire  to  make  Christmas  Eve  a  festival 
to  our  hearts,  as  it  was  to  the  hearts  of  our  fathers,  the  fellowship  of  love  must 
first  be  established  and  secured  among  us.  But  this  is  wanting  wherever  there 
is  not  the  mind  of  Jesus  Christ  and  the  power  of  his  Spirit. 

My  friends  and  brethren  !  unless  that  mind  and  that  power  be  in  the  midst  of 
us,  our  house  will  prove  to  be  built  on  sand.  In  vain  shall  we  seek  for  the  fellow- 
ship of  joy,  if  we.  have  not  that  of  love. 

My  friends  and  brethren !  if  there  be  no  other  but  human  and  temporal  ties  to 
bind  us,  we  are  inwardly  divided  already,  and  our  external  union  will  and  must  be 
broken  up,  as  a  spider's  web  by  the  strong  wings  of  a  wasp,  or  by  a  gush  of  wind. 

My  friends  and  brethren !  it  is  no  small  thing  for  men  to  be  united  for  a  holy 
purpose.  They  must  sanctify  themselves  in  their  union,  that  their  purpose  may 
remain  to  them  a  holy  purpose,  and  that  the  work  of  their  hands  also  may  be 
holy.  But  it  is  far  more  common  for  men  to  corrupt  than  to  sanctify  themselves 
by  their  union. 

My  friends  and  brethren  !  let  us  not  overlook  the  dangers  of  every  union  be 
tween  man  and  man.  Wherever  men  unite  in  their  human  capacities,  then 
union  will  not  lead  to  their  purification  or  sanctification.  It  is  only  where  a  divine 
life  forms  the  tie  of  union,  that  man  by  his  union  with  other  men  can  become 
purified  and  sanctified ;  but  the  union  in  the  tie  of  a  divine  life  is  only  possible  by 
the  fellowship  of  the  mind  of  Christ  and  the  communion  of  his  Holy  Spirit. 
Whoever  has  not  the  mind  of  Christ,  nor  his  Spirit,  will  not  be  ennobled  by  any 
union  with  man.  Let  us  not  be  blind,  therefore,  my  brethren,  to  the  dangers  of 
our  union.  They  are  great,  very  great.  It  is  the  work  of  thy  mercy,  Oh  Lord, 

45 


706  PESTAl.OZZI  AS  THE  FATHER  OF  A  FAMILY. 

that  they  have  not  ensnared  us  already.  For  how  variously  has  in  our  union  th.» 
human  nature  of  the  one  attached  itself  to  the  human  nature  of  the  other!  how 
manifold  has  been  among  us  the  fellowship  of  weakness!  Have  we  not  endeav- 
ored each  of  us  to  make  the  weakness  of  others  a  cloak  wherewith  to  cover  his 
own.  Oh,  how  little  has  the  success  of  our  undertaking  effected  toward  raising 
us  to  a  higher  state,  and  strengthening  in  us  the  power  of  divine  grace !  How 
often  have  we  rejoiced  with  a  merely  human  joy,  unsanctified  by  the  divine 
Spirit,  in  that  outward  success  which  became  the  more  illusory  as  we  took  a 
merely  human  view  of  it!  Oh  Lord,  how  little  have  we  been  strengthened,  and 
how  much  have  we  been  enfeebled,  by  our  prosperity.  My  friends  and  brethren ! 
let  us  not  conceal  this  matter  from  ourselves ;  the  history  of  our  union  is  nothing 
else  than  the  history  of  the  merciful  dealings  of  divine  grace,  with  the  weakness 
of  men  united  together  for  a  holy  purpose.  We  have  pursued  this  purpose  after 
the  fashion  of  men,  but  the  Lord  has  blessed  our  labors  with  the  blessing  of 
heaven.  Of  that  blessing  we  have  proved  ourselves  unworthy,  for  in  the  midst 
of  his  loving  kindness  toward  us,  our  weaknesses  not  only  remained  the  same, 
but  they  were  often  increased. 

My  friends  and  brethren !  the  days  of  our  prosperity  have  not,  as  they  ought 
to  have  done,  prepared  and  strengthened  us  for  the  days  of  adversity  ;  and  yet 
adversity  must  necessarily  come  upon  us,  lest  we  should  be  subdued  by  our  human 
weaknesses,  which  are  in  open  conflict  with  the  divine  purpose  of  our  union.  My 
friends  and  brethren !  are  we  to  give  way  to  those  weaknesses  of  our  human 
nature,  and  see  our  house  stride  on  toward  dissolution  ;  or  shall  we,  by  elevating 
ourselves  above  them,  save  our  work  from  destruction  ? 

My  friends  and  brethren !  is  the  coming  Christmas  to  be  to  us  a  day  of  deep 
mourning,  or  a  joyful  day  of  triumph,  to  celebrate  our  conquests  over  ourselves 
and  our  infirmities  ?  The  decisive  moment  is  come.  We  must  no  longer  rely 
upon  outward  prosperity  for  the  success  of  our  undertaking ;  for  there  is  no  pros- 
p.-rity  that  can  now  become  really  conducive  to  its  progress;  nothing  but  right- 
eousness can  any  longer  advance  the  object  of  our  union.  You  are  left,  my 
friends,  almost  without  a  leader.  My  strength  is  gone.  I  am  no  longer  an  ex- 
ample for  you  of  what  you  ought  to  be  day  by  day,  as  members  of  our  family. 
Your  task  is  an  important  one.  You  are  to  educate  yourselves  as  well  as  the 
children  intrusted  to  our  care.  You  are  to  resist  the  world  and  its  vain  worksv 
and  yet  you  are  to  satisfy  men  who  have  grown  grey-headed  in  its  vanities.  You 
are  to  pave  a  new  road  through  impervious  tracts,  and  to  walk  on  it  as  if  it  had 
been  paved  long  ago.  You  are  to  act  the  parts  of  youths  in  your  development, 
and  that  of  men  in  your  position  to  the  world. 

My  friends!  our  meeting  together  was  on  a  less  high,  it  was  on  a  human 
ground  ;  nor  has  our  temporal  connection  raised  us  to  such  an  elevation  ;  and 
yet  it  is  indispensable  for  the  attainment  of  our  end,  that  we  should  rise  to  that 
point. 

Oh  my  friends,  my  brethren  !  in  what  a  sublime  light  does  this  purpose  present 
itself  to  my  view.  Oh  that  it  were  possible  for  me  to  present  it  to  you  in  the  like 
manner  as  I  did  the  Christmas  joy  of  our  forefathers.  The  purpose  of  our  union 
is  not  founded  upon  our  human  nature,  but  upon  the  divine  spark  implanted 
within  it;  it  is  on  this  account  that  it  embraces  the  whole  of  humankind;  it  is  a 
universal  purpose,  because  it  addresses  itself  to  that  divine  seed  which  God  has 
universally  deposited  in  the  hearts  of  men.  Our  means  likewise  are  not  derived 


PESTALOZZI  AS  THE  FATHER  OF  A  FAMILY.  7<)7 

ft OIM  our  human  nature  ;  they  emanate  from  a  divine  lite  within  us.  So  far  only 
as  we  are  alive  to  that  purpose  in  its  divine  character,  so  far  as  it  is  unfolded  in 
us  by  divine  means,  so  far  only  has  it  in  us  a  real  foundation  ;  and  it  is  so  far  only, 
that  the  attainment  of  it  can  become  to  us  a  source  of  universal  peace  and 
tranquillity. 

.My  friends  and  brethren !  if  that  be  wanting  among  us,  our  union  for  the  pur- 
pose of  education  is  no  more  than  a  vain  dream ;  from  which  when  we  wake,  we 
shall  find  our  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

My  friends  and  brethren !  if  we  be  united  by  no  better  tie  than  that  which 
binds  men  together  in  the  vanity  of  their  common  pursuits,  our  union  will  share 
the  fate  of  all  vain  human  associations.  The  fetters  of  this  vain  world  will  then 
keep  our  union  in  an  unholy  bondage,  and  we  shall  sink,  as  man  always  does  in 
union  with  man,  except  he  be  raised  above  the  degrading  influence  of  merely 
human  relationship  by  sanctification  in  a  divine  bond.  Mean  selfishness  will  then 
preside  among  us,  as  it  presides  every  where  in  human  society,  and  it  will  cause 
our  union  to  perish  in  itself,  like  a  house  thrown  on  a  heap  by  an  earthquake,  in 
the  same  manner  as  it  has  ruined  before  thousands  of  human  associations.  Fix  your 
view  upon  this  prospect,  my  friends ;  do  not  turn  your  eyes  from  this  picture. 
How  should  we  feel  if  all  this  should  be  fulfilled  in  us  ?  -Oh !  do  not  turn  away 
your  eyes  from  this  picture  of  truth.  If  ever  we  should  be  overcome  by  our  own 
weakness,  and  obliged  to  separate  ;  if  any  of  us  should  forsake  the  common  cause 
and  look  to  their  private  interests,  some  in  the  apparent  calmness  and  satisfaction 
of  selfishness,  and  some  in  the  selfish  sorrow  of  weakness  ;  if  we  should  part  from 
each  other  ;  if  those  that  are  strong  among  us  should  abandon  the  weak  ones  to> 
their  fate ;  if  any  of  us  should  become  intoxicated  with  the  narcotic  of  vain  glory,, 
or  should  endeavor  for  the  sake  of  contemptible  gain  to  obtain  for  themselves  the- 
credit  due  to  all.  *****  ]\[v  friends  and  brethren !  is  it  possible  for 
you  to  place  this  picture  of  dissolution,  degradation  and  ruin  before  your  eyes,  and 
not  to  feel  a  sacred  determination  kindled  in  your  bosom,  to  do  all  in  your  power 
to  avert  the  day  of  such  a  calamity  ? 

It  is  impossible,  my  friends,  my  brethren,  that  you  can  be  indifferent  to  that 
prospect:  you  will,  I  know  you  will,  be  elevated  and  united.  Oh !  let  us  deliver 
ourselves  and  our  cause  from  danger,  by  elevation  and  unity  of  spirit.  Can  we  do 
otherwise  ?  Could  we  have  cherished  for  years  the  idea  of  raising  the  condition 
of  the  people  by  a  better  education,  and  now  allow  it  to  sink  into  oblivion  ?  Is  it 
possible  for  us  to  forget  those  sacred  hours  in  which  our  hearts  were  filled  with 
pious  enthusiasm  at  the  recollection  of  our  great  purpose  ;  those  hours  in  which, 
separated  from  the  world,  and  firmly  united  among  ourselves,  we  acknowledged  each 
other  as  devoted  instruments  of  that  purpose,  and  gave  each  other  the  solemn 
promise,  which  also  we  have  openly  declared  before  men,  that  we  would  conse- 
crate ourselves  to  the  holy  cause  for  which  we  are  called,  and  assist  each  other 
in  its  pursuit,  until  every  one  of  us  should  have  obtained  strength  and  ability  to 
pursue  it  by  himself,  independently  of  any  farther  assistance  ?  Who  that  has  for 
a  moment  felt  in  his  bosom  the  spirit  of  our  union,  could  consent  to  abandon  the 
least  among  us  that  is  truly  attached  to  our  cause,  instead  of  lending  him  a  help- 
ing hand,  and  leading  him  to  become  a  mature  instrument  for  the  common  pur- 
pose? Is  it  possible  to  see  our  blooming  youth,  whom  none  can  equal  in  cheer- 
fulness, in  native  wit,  in  intelligence  and  practical  acquirements,  in  physical  power 
and  agility,  whose  whole  education  is  so  evidently  superior  to  that  commonly 


708  PESTALOZZI  AS  THE  FATHER  OF  A  FAMILY. 

imparted,  and  not  to  mourn  at  the  thought  that  our  union  should  ever  be  dissolved  ? 
Is  it  possible  to  view  the  improvements  produced  in  the  method  of  instruction, 
by  rendering  it  conformable  to  the  nature  of  the  human  mind,  and  to  be  indiffer- 
ent to  the  idea  that  the  experiment,  out  of  which  these  improvements  arose,  should 
be  interrupted  ?  No,  it  is  impossible.  I  know  you,  and  though  I  may  have  to 
complain  of  much  frailty  among  you,  yet  I  am  sure,  that  many  of  you  would 
rather  die,  than  suffer  the  blessed  fruits  of  our  union  to  be  arrested  in  their 
growth  by  your  failings. 

No,  no !  my  brethren !  let  the  voice  of  union  be  raised  among  us  with  a  shout 
in  the  solemn  hour  of  this  festival :  the  voice  of  that  union  which  has  raised  us  to 
the  privilege  of  becoming  the  servants  of  our  brethren.  Let  us  be  faithful  to  that 
union,  let  us  not  depart  from  the  path  prescribed  to  us  by  the  love  of  mankind. 
Let  our  object  be  now  and  forever,  to  consecrate  ourselves  to  our  holy  calling,  and 
to  remain  faithful  to  each  other  in  cooperating  for  the  attainment  of  our  great  pur- 
pose ;  to  remain  faithful  to  the  beloved  children  who  grow  up  in  the  midst  of  us,  iu 
the  flower  of  youth ;  to  remain  faithful  to  truth  and  love  in  all  the  means  that  we 
adopt ;  and  in  the  whole  sphere  of  our  exertions  to  preserve  purity  of  heart. 

My  friends  and  brethren!  let  this  day,  consecrated  to  the  remembrance  of  a 
Saviour's  birth,  be  the-day  of  a  holy  renovation  of  our  union  !  let  it  be  the  day 
of  a  holy  renovation  of  ourselves  for  the  purposes  of  our  calling!  let  the  joy  that 
Jesus  Christ  came  in  the  flesh,  be  one  with  the  joy  that  we  are  united  in  his  ser- 
vice ;  let  our  joy  be  the  joy  of  faith  and  love  in  Him  !  Let  the  saered,  the  divine 
.-haraeter  of  our  calling,  raise  us  far  above  ourselves,  and  above  the  dangers  of 
human  weakness,  which  exist  in  our  union  as  in  the  union  of  all  our  brethren. 
Let  us  be  sincere  with  ourselves,  let  us  not  deceive  ourselves  by  the  vain  jingle 
of  words,  let  us  not  contaminate  the  holy  night  of  our  Lord  by  the  delusion  of  sel- 
fishness !  Whoever  seeks  in  our  union  to  serve  himself  only,  let  him  depart  from 
us !  Whoever  makes  our  union  a  scene  for  the  freer  indulgence  of  his  weakness, 
let  him  depart  from  us !  Whoever  feels  that  in  our  union  he  grows  more  frail 
and  faulty  than  he  would  have  allowed  himself  to  become  elsewhere,  let  him 
depart  from  us ! 

We  are  brought  together  by  ch'ance ;  it  could  not  be  otherwise ;  but  let  not 
chance  keep  us  together  like  fishes  caught  in  a  net,  who  must  all  perish  toir-  tlu  i . 
No,  no !  the  hour  is  come  to  separate  the  wheat  from  the  chaft'.  The  hour  is 
come,  when  our  union  must  cease  to  afford  food  for  the  \\  ieked.  It  is  enough  ! 
!.»ugh  !  The  goodness  of  God  has  given  to  each  of  us  a  time  of  grace  and 
long  suffering.  For  those  who  have  abused  that  time,  it  is  now  at  an  end,  it  must 
be  at  an  end  !  Whoever  does  not  serve  the  holy  purpose  of  our  union,  whoever 
disturbs  it  by  his  presence,  let  him  depart  from  u> ! 

My  brethren !  The  ties  of  chance  must  this  day  be  broken  !  No  other  tie  can 
henceforth  be  suffered  to  exist  among  us  than  that  of  love  and  righteousness.  Let 
us  part  rather  than  perish  !  We  must  either  part  and  follow  every  one  his  own 
appointed  way,  or  else  we  must  stand  together  this  day,  before  God  and  men, 
with  one  heart  and  one  soul !  resolved  to  follow  our  common  calling.  Such  is  our 
duty  this  day! 

My  friends,  my  brethren !  let  us  be  faithful  to  that  calling ;  let  us  cheerfully 
run  our  race  together !  I  am  the  weakest  among  you,  but  I  am  ready  to  bring 
any  sacrifice  that  may  be  required  of  me  for  the  attainment  of  our  holy  purpose. 

My  friends  and  brethren !  be  you  also  ready  to  bring  those  sacrifices  which  will 


PE8TALOZZ1  AS  THE  FATHER  OF  A  FAMILY.  709 

be  required  of  you  !  They  will  not  be  small.  It  is  no  small  matter  to  put  one's 
hand  t.>  tlu  work  of  educating  mankind;  to  stand  forward  among  men,  and  to 
say  :  u  Come  to  us  and  see  the  great  thing  which  we  propose  to  do  for  improving 
the  education  of  the  human  race,  for  benefiting  the  world,  and  securing  the 
welfare  of  our  species." 

My  friends  and  brethren  !  This  is  the  view  which  has  been  taken  of  the  object 
of  our  union,  and  we  ourselves  have  represented  it  nearly  in  the  same  light. 
Feeling  the  corrupt  state  into  which  education  has  fallen,  and  suffering  under  its 
mistakes,  the  world  has  awarded  confidence  to  the  language  of  my  enthusiasm, 
and  has  crowned  us  with  laurel,  when  we  had  hardly  begun  to  search  after  the 
means  by  which  a  beautiful  dream  might  be  realized.  I  was  myself  under  a  great 
mistake.  I  thought  the  way  to  my  end  much  shorter  than  it  actually  is ;  while 
the  incense  with  which  we  were  perfumed,  as  well  as  the  unexpected  success  of 
some  unripe  experiments,  confirmed  us  in  that  mistake,  and  had  a  prejudicial  in- 
fluence on  our  union  and  our  institution.  The  seeds  of  corruption  began  to 
unfold  themselves  among  us.  We  contradicted  one  another  with  our  unripe 
opinions  in  dogmatical  arrogance,  and  ills  began  to  spring  up  in  our  house,  which, 
when  the  fashion  of  praising  us  had  grown  old,  afforded  the  world  an  opportunity 
of  abusing  us,  likewise  as  a  matter  of  fashion.  Our  time  of  trial  is  come,  but  it  is 
better  for  us  than  the  hour  of  vain  praise.  Let  us  not  deceive  ourselves.  The 
voice  of  censure  is  becoming  severe  against  us,  and  times  of  trouble  are  at  hand. 
My  poor  house!  thy  lovers  are  become  thy  accusers,  and  know  thou  that  the  ac- 
cusations of  lovers  are  severe,  and  that  their  blame  will  become  a  testimony 
against  thee  in  the  mouth  of  thy  enemies.  My  poor  house !  thou  art  grown  up 
as  a  beautiful  flower  of  the  field  5  the  gardeners  envy  thy  beauty,  because  it 
shakes  the  faith  of  the  world  in  their  hot-houses,  and  verily  they  will  take 
vengeance  upon  thee  ! 

My  friends,  my  brethren  !  despise  not  this  time  of  tribulation  !  Our  gold  will 
be  purified,  and  the  heat  of  the  refiner's  fire  will  bring  the  dross  to  the  surface! 
The  world  will  for  awhile  see  nothing  but  dross,  and  will  lose  for  a  time  all  faith 
in  the  gold,  which  is  underneath  the  drossy  bubbles. 

My  friends,  my  brethren  !  let  not  this  offend  you,  but  rejoice  rather  that  your 
dross  shall  be  separated  from  the  gold  of  our  holy  cause.  If  the  dross  be  permit- 
ted to  swim  on  the  surface,  and  all  that  is  good  and  valuable  among  us  be  hidden 
from  the  eyes  of  the  world,  which  can  not  see  beyond  the  surface,  rejoice  ye! 
The  hour  of  purifying  will  pass  over;  the  vain  dross  of  our  labors  will  be  thrown 
away,  and  be  lost  like  chaff  in  the  fire,  but  that  which  is  purified  will  remain. 
Think  on  this,  pass  it  not  over  lightly !  Ask  yourselves :  "  What  then  will  re- 
main !  much,  very  much,  of  what  we  consider  as  gold,  is  now  boiling  up  with  the 
dross.  But  be  ye  not  offended.  The  gold  of  our  cause  is  not  to  be  found  in  our 
outward  labors,  in  our  outward  success  ;  it  is  within  you  ;  there  you  must  seek  it, 
there  you  shall  find,  there  you  must  value  it.  Our  cause  can  have  no  value  to 
us,  except  that  which  we  possess  in  ourselves  ;  and  that  value  is  great,  it  can  not  be 
little;  nor  must  we  allow  ourselves  to  lose  it  in  the  unstable  estimation  formed  of 
our  external  undertaking,  like  a  diamond  in  a  heap  of  sand.  No !  the  intrinsic 
value  of  our  eause  is  great.  It  requires  an  uncommon  elevation  of  heart,  single- 
ness of  sight,  absolute  submission  to  the  guidance  of  Providence,  indefatigable 
exertion,  undaunted  courage,  constant  self-denial,  the  humility  of  love,  and  the 
strength  of  heroes. 


710  PE8TAL02Z1  AS  THE  FATHER  OF  A  FAMILY. 

My  friends,  my  brethren!  let  us  not  deceive  ourselves,  our  aim  is  one  \\liich 
heroes  only  can  hope  to  reach.  Whence  shall  we  get  that  heroic  strength  of 
which  we  stand  in  need  ? 

My  brethren!  remember  that  the  strength  of  the  Lord  is  made  perfect  in 
weakness.  The  Saviour  came  into  the  world,  lying  in  a  manger,  a  helpless  in- 
fant ;  and  the  glory  of  the  only  begotten  of  the  Father  was  declared  unto  poor 
shepherds  that  kept  watch  over  their  flocks. 

May  the  holy  reminiscences  of  this  day  inspire  us  with  a  high  and  holy  courage 
for  our  work.  My  brethren!  it'  we  are  able  to  celebrate  this  festival  in  the  spirit 
of  our  noble-hearted  ancestors,  in  the  spirit  of  genuine  Christians,  then  are  we 
capable  likewise  of  accomplishing  our  work.  The  Lord  Jesus  has  said:  "  If  ye 
have  faith  as  a  grain  of  mustard  seed,  ye  shall  say  unto  this  mountain  :  '  Remove 
hence  to  yonder  place !'  and  it  shall  remove."  My  friends,  if  ye  have  faith  as  a 
grain  of  mustard  seed,  though  obstacles  should  lie  in  your  way  like  mountains, 
whose  feet  are  rooted  in  the  depth  of  the  earth,  and  whose  tops  reach  unto 
heaven,  ye  shall  say  to  them  :  "  Remove  hence  to  yonder  place  !"  and  they  shall 
remove.  My  friends !  if  we  celebrate  this  holy  festival  in  true  faith,  we  shall  in 
the  same  faith  accomplish  our  task.  Cast  back  your  looks  upon  the  times  of  old, 
and  see  how  this  festival  was  celebrated  by  true  faith.  His  heart  filled  with  the 
Holy  Spirit,  and  his  band  with  gifts  of  human  kindness,  the  Christian  stood  at 
this  hour  in  the  midst  of  his  brethren.  The  solemn  hour  of  heavenly  joy  was  an 
hour  of  sanctification  to  our  species.  The  earth  was  at  this  hour  a  heavenly  earth. 
The  dwelling-place  of  mortal  man  was  filled  with  the  breath  of  immortality. 

.If  we  celebrate  this  hour  in  the  spirit  of  ancient  Christendom,  in  the  spirit  of 
better  days  that  are  gone  by,  our  hearts  will  be  filled  with  the  Holy  Spirit,  as  well 
as  our  hands  with  earthly  gifts.  Thus  shall  every  one  of  us  stand  in  the  midst 
of  his  brethren,  in  the  cheerful  circle  of  our  children.  "With  the  hand  of  kind- 
ness will  we  seek  their  hands,  and  their  eye  shall  find  in  ours  the  beam  of  love. 
Then  will  the  joys  of  this  day  be  to  us  heavenly  joys,  then  shall  we  be  sanctified 
in  the  rejoicing  of  this  hour.  Then,  my  friends,  my  brethren,  will  our  house  be 
a  heavenly  house,  and  the  dwelling-place  of  our  weakness  be  filled  with  the  breath 
of  immortality. 

My  friends,  my  brethren!  the  fellowship  of  our  joy  will  then  be  a  fellowship 
of  love,  and  our  house  will  no  longer  be  built  on  sand.  Selfishness  and  sensual 
appetite  will  then  no  longer  rule  over  our  pleasures,  nor  embitter  our  sufferings. 
Our  union  will  no  longer  be  disturbed,  for  heartless  indifference  will  be  banished 
from  among  us,  and  whoever  sins  against  love,  will  stand  confounded  before  the 
image  of  offended  and  weeping  love.  Then  shall  our  union  rest,  not  upon  a 
human  but  upon  a  divine  basis,  and  then  it  will  and  must  become  a  source  of 
blessing  to  all  its  members.  The  pangs  of  the  suffering,  the  sorrows  of  the 
afflicted,  and  the  burden  of  the  oppressed,  will  then  disappear.  I  may  then  adopt 
with  truth  the  language  of  internal  tranquillity,  and  say  :  "  I  cast  my  burden  upon 
thee,  Oh  Lord ;  thou  wilt  sustain  me."  My  friends,  my  brethren  !  our  cause  is 
secured,  if  the  fellowship  of  love  dwell  among  us.  Oh  heavenly  Father,  grant 
Thou  us  the  grace  of  fellowship  in  Thy  Spirit ! 

All  human  fellowship  disturbs  the  high  fellowship  of  love,  which  is  only  to  be 
found  in  a  divine  fellowship,  and  of  this  none  can  partake  but  those  who  have  the 
mind  of  Christ  Jesus,  and  follow  after  him  in  the  strength  of  his  Spirit. 

My  friends,  my  brethren  !  let  this  holy  night  be  consecrated  by  earnest  prayer 


PESTALOZZI  AS  THE  FATHER  OF  A  FAMILY.  *7U 

1o  God  tor  the  mind  of  Christ  Jesus,  and  for  the  strength  of  his  Spirit,  that  our 
hous  inav  be  established,  and  the  work  of  our  calling  accomplished  in  the  fellow- 
ship of  love. 

And  you,  my  beloved  children,  who  celebrate  this  Christinas  in  the  simplicity 
of  your  hearts,  what  shall  I  say  to  you  ?  We  wish  to  be  partakers  of  your  sim- 
plicity, of  your  child-like  joy.  We  know,  that  except  we  be  converted  and  be- 
come as  little  children,  except  we  be  elevated  to  the  simplicity  of  a  child-like 
mind,  we  shall  not  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  we  shall  not  attain  the  fel- 
lowship of  love,  by  winch  alone  our  house  can  be  established  on  a  sure  foundation. 
Beloved  children  !  it  is  for  your  sakes  that  we  are  united  in  one  family  5  our  house 
is  your  house,  and  for  your  sakes  only  is  it  our  house.  Live  in  our  family  in  the 
simplicity  of  love,  and  trust  in  our  faithfulness  and  our  paternal  affection  toward 
you.  Be  ye  children,  be  ye  innocent  children  jn  the  full  sense  of  the  word.  Let 
this  festival  establish  you  in  the  holy  strength  of  a  child-like  mind.  Behold 
Christ  Jesus,  the  Saviour  of  the  world;  behold  him  with  the  graces  of  holy 
childhood  at  the  bosom  of  his  mother ;  behold  him  in  the  manger  with  the  sweet 
look  of  holy  innocence.  Remember  him,  how  he  grew,  and  waxed  strong  in 
spirit,  filled  with  wisdom,  and  how  the  grace  of  God  was  upon  him  ;  how  he  was 
subject  unto  his  parents;  how  in  fear  and  love  toward  them  he  increased  in  wis- 
dom and  stature,  and  in  favor  with  God  and  man ;  how,  being  yet  a  child,  he  sat 
in  the  temple  in  the  midst  of  the  wise  men,  and  astonished  all  that  heard  him  by 
his  understanding  and  answers ;  how  grace  and  love  never  departed  from  him  all 
his  days ;  how  he  drew  the  souls  of  men  toward  him  by  the  excellency  of  his 
life ;  how  he  took  unto  him  little  children,  and  declared  their  sweetness  and  sim- 
plicity to  be  the  source  of  life  everlasting  in  and  with  God ;  how  his  grace  and 
love  was  made  manifest  in  his  sufferings  and  death,  as  the  power  of  God  to  the 
salvation  of  mankind ;  how  it  forsook  him  not  even  in  the  last  hour,  that  in  the 
midst  of  its  torments  his  lips  instilled  consolation  into  the  soul  of  his  mother.  Oh, 
my  children,  may  this  solemn  hour  inspire  you  with  that  spirit  of  grace  and  love 
that  was  in  Him,  and  may  you  be  preserved  in  it  all  the  days  of  your  lives!  We 
teo,  my  children,  stand  in  need  of  your  grace  and  love,  to  nourish  and  to 
strengthen  these  paternal  feelings,  which  we  pray  God  that  he  may  grant  unto 
us,  and  without  which  we  can  not  render  you  any  service  of  love  and  righteousness 

Children,  let  the  graces  of  childhood  elevate  our  souls,  and  purify  us  of  all  con- 
tamination of  anger  and  wrath,  and  hastiness  in  your  education.  May  your  love 
animate  our  hearts  and  refresh  our  spirits,  that  we  may  not  grow  weary  in  the 
duties  of  our  office. 

Children,  I  must  conclude  :  I  will  again  speak  to  you  in  a  little  while.  For  the 
present  let  it  suffice.  Children,  young  men,  men,  friends  and  brethren,  let  our 
Christmas  be  unto  us  a  day  of  holiness !  May  God  in  heaven  sanctify  it  unto  us  ! 
Glory  be  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  and  meekness  of  heart  among 
the  children  of  men  I  Amen  I 


PESTALOZZI.-NEW    YEAR'S    ADDRESS,   1809. 


*  *  *  I  BOW  down  my  face,  fall  down,  and  ask  myself,  Am  I  worthy 
of  the  benefactions  of  my  Father?  Am  I  worthy  of  that  salvation  of  my 
work,  and  of  all  the  value  which  God  has  given,  during  the  past  year,  to 
me,  and  to  my  house  ?  O  God  !  dare  I  even  ask  it  ?  Is  man  ever  worthy  of 
God's  benefits  ?  and  dare  I,  for  a  moment,  imagine  myself  worthy  of  the  wonder- 
ful manner  in  which  the  paternal  goodness  of  God  has  carried  our  existence, 
with  nil  its  weaknesses,  through  the  dangers  of  the  past  year  ?  The  year  was  an 
important  one  for  us.  We  saw  what  our  work  requires  more  clearly  than  ever 
before ;  we  saw  its  power,  and  felt  our  own  weakness,  more  clearly  than  ever. 
The  force  of  circumstances  had  nearly  swallowed  up  our  existence.  The  means 
we  used,  to  extricate  ourselves  from  perils  beyond  our  strength,  increased  the 
evil.  Let  an  everlasting  veil  fall  over  the  human  part  of  our  labors.  Let  the 
first  festive  hours  of  this  day  be  devoted  to  the  gratitude  which  we  owe  to  the 
Saviour  of  our  work,  the  Father  of  our  life,  the  everlasting  source  of  all  that  is 
holy  or  good  within  our  association.  I  will  thank  him.  I  will  look  within  my- 
self, and  acknowledge  how  little  I  was  worthy  of  his  goodness ;  how  little  I  was 
worthy  that  he  should  thus  rescue  the  labor  of  my  life.  O  thou  good  God,  how 
much  did  it  require,  even  to  undertake  that  work  !  Father  in  Heaven,  what  an 
expanse  of  duty  did  even  the  dream  of  my  work  lay  before  me !  I  myself  dare 
scarcely  think  of  the  accomplishment  of  all  those  duties.  Fear  and  shame  must 
seize  hold  upon  me,  when  I  reflect  what  is  officially  required  of  me  by  the  relig- 
ious and  human  duties,  and  the  extent,  of  my  house.  What  have  I  done,  in 
taking  such  extensive  burdens  on  my  shoulders?  Near  the  grave,  feeling  more 
than  ever  the  need  of  rest,  too  weak  for  ordinary  duties,  uneasy  at  almost  every 
occurrence,  unforeseeing  its  almost  every  danger,  inconsiderate  in  almost  every 
conclusion,  unskillful,  helpless,  and  unpractical  in  almost  every  thing  which  I  begin 
and  ought  to  finish.  I  see  myself  placed  in  relations  to  you,  which  demand  the 
utmost  calmness,  the  greatest  foresight,  the  deepest  deliberation,  and  the  utmost 
skill  and  practical  dexterity,  that  any  one  human  task  ever  required.  I  have  had 
nothing  to  oppose  to  all  these  defects  of  mine,  except  my  love,  and  my  presenti- 
ment of  the  possibility  of  good  results ;  which  have  never  left  me.  But  this  pre- 
sentiment, and  this  love,  were  not  re-enforced  for  my  work,  either  by  correspond- 
ing inner  powers  nor  corresponding  outward  means.  Thus  stood  my  enterprise 
for  years.  Yet  it  was  not  my  enterprise  :  I  did  not  seek  what  I  found  ;  I  did  not 
know  the  ocean  in  which  I  was  to  swim,  when  I  threw  myself  into  the  stream 
which  has  borne  me  into  it.  What  I  do,  is  not  my  work  ;  I  did  not  begin  what  I 
now  see  completed  here  ;  nor  am  I  completing  what  I  began.  I  stand  here,  sur- 
rounded by  benefits  from  my  fate,  which  fate  yet  controls;  by  benefits  from  God, 
which  he  yet  controls;  by  friends,  whom  God  himself  has  given  to  me,  and 
whom  he  yet  controls.  My  work  exists,  my  friends,  through  you,  who  are  around 
me;  my  work  exists  through  you.  I  have  ever  the  least  share  in  it.  My  pow- 
ers of  sharing  it,  how  small  soever,  are  continually  becoming  smaller.  What  has 


PESTALOZZI.-NEW  DEAR'S  ADDRESS.  713 

eoin,-  to  pass,  has  otMiii'  to  p-iss  through  you  ;  and  what  is  to  come  to  pass,  must 
happen  through  you.  God's  providence  will  never  leave  me  to  lose  you,  and  to 
be  obliged  to  seek  out  new  supports  for  my  work.  I  could  thank  you — but  what 
words  could  render  thanks  for  what  you  are  to  me.  and  to  my  work  ?  Sorrow 
takes  hold  upon  me.  How  little  am  I  to  you,  in  comparison  with  what  you  are 
to  me  !  I  look  within  myself,  and  acknowledge  how  much  I  have  been  wanting 
to  my  work  ;  how  my  weaknesses  have  almost  hindered  my  work  more  than  they 
have  advanced  it.  ... 

.  .  .  Deeply  beloved  children  ;  you  too  should,  in  this  festive  hour,  raise 
your  hearts  to  your  Father  in  heaven,  and  promise  him  to  be  his  children ;  with 
thanks  and  devotion,  to  be  his  children.  Children,  your  good  fortune  is  great. 
At  a  tune  when  the  great  majority  of  children  go  on  in  neglect  and  abandon- 
ment, with  only  want  for  their  teacher,  and  their  passions  for  their  guides ;  in 
days  when  so  many,  so  innumerably  many,  better  and  more  fortunate  children, 
suffering  under  a  combination  of  harshness,  violence,  and  bad  guidance,  diverted 
from  the  paths  of  nature,  not  educated,  but  trained  only  into  a  one-sided,  empty 
show  of  knowledge,  and  an  equally  one-sided  pretense  and  fashion  of  practical 
efficiency,  and  thus  offered  up  to  the  world  ;  in  such  a  time,  you  are  not  given 
over  to  abandonment  and  neglect :  want  is  in  no  respect  your  bad  counselor  ;  nor 
are  the  dubious  impulses  of  passion  used  in  your  training.  Amongst  us,  neither 
vanity  nor  fear,  neither  honor  nor  shame,  neither  reward  nor  punishment,  as  they 
are  elsewhere  almost  universally  used,  purposely  and  as  part  of  the  method,  are 
used  to  show  you  the  path  in  which  you  are  to  go.  The  divine  nature,  which  is 
in  you,  is  counted  holy  in  you.  You  are,  among  us,  what  the  divine  nature 
within  you  and  without  you  summon  you  to  be.  We  oppose  no  vile  force  against 
your  gifts  or  your  tendencies ;  we  constrain  them  not — we  only  develop  them. 
We  do  not  instil  into  you  what  is  ours,  what  exists  in  us  as  corrupted  by  ourselves  ; 
we  develop  in  you  what  remains  uncorrupted  within  yourselves.  Among  us,  you 
are  not  under  the  misfortune  of  seeing  your  whole  being,  your  whole  humanity, 
subordinated,  and  thus  sacrificed  to  the  training  of  some  single  power,  some  sin- 
gle view  of  your  nature.  It  is  far  from  us  to  make  you  such  men  as  we  are.  It 
is  far  from  us  to  make  you  such  men  as  the  majority  of  the  men  of  the  time  are. 
Under  our  hands,  you  will  become  such  men  as  your  natures  require ;  as  the 
holy,  the  divine,  within  your  natures,  require.  Father  in  heaven,  grant  to  us 
that  the  purpose  of  our  labors  may  be  visibly  and  undeniably  in  thee,  and  through 
thee.  Men  around  us  assert  that  we  propose,  as  the  ultimate  end  of  our  labors, 
not  thine  understanding,  thy  wisdom  ;  but  thy  humanity.  No,  no  !  It  is  far  from 
me  to  resign  myself  to  the  cunning  and  art  of  my  race,  confined  to  the  limits 
within  which  those  faculties  do  their  work.  It  is  far  from  me  to  seek,  as  the  end 
of  my  labor,  a  confined  development  of  the  lower  endowments  of  men,  and  of 
their  material  senses.  O  God,  nol  What  I  seek  is,  to  elevate  human  nature  to 
its  highest,  its  noblest ;  and  this  I  seek  to  do  by  love  Only  in  the  holy  power 
of  love  do  I  recognize  the  basis  of  the  development  of  my  race  to  whatever  of 
the  divine  and  eternal  lies  within  its  nature.  All  the  capacities  for  intellect,  and 
art,  and  knowledge,  which  are  within  my  nature,  I  hold  to  be  only  means  for  the 
divine  elevation  of  the  heart  to  love  It  is  only  in  the  elevation  of  man  that  I  rec- 
ognize the  possibility  of  the  development  of  the  race  itself  to  manhood.  Love  i» 
the  only,  the  eternal  foundation  of  the  training  of  our  race  to  humanity.  The 
error  was  great,  the  deception  immeasurable,  of  believing  that  I  sought  the  com- 
plete development  of  human  nature  by  a  one-sided  cultivation  of  the  intellect ;  by 


714  PESTALOZZI.-NEW  YEAR'S  ADDRESS. 

the  exclusive  study  of  arithmetic  and  mathematics.  No.  I  seek  it  through  the 
universality  of  love.  No,  no.  I  seek  not  training  to  mathematics,  I  seek  train- 
ing to  humanity  5  and  this  comes  only  through  love.  Let  your  lives,  your  whole 
lives,  my  children,  show  that  the  whole  purpose  of  my  instruction  was  only  love, 
and  elevation  to  humanity  through  love.  They  will  show  it.  The  error  of  be- 
lieving that  I  sought  any  other  end,  of  believing  that  my  method  was  intended 
only  to  obtain  for  the  poor  better  means  of  earning  bread,  will  disappear.  Deeply 
beloved  children,  you  will  cause  it  to  disappear.  This  error  has  arisen,  not  from 
me,  not  from  my  labors,  not  from  my  instructions  to  you ;  but  only  from  hasty 
glances  at  my  books,  the  special  means  of  developing  single  faculties. 

Your  existence  is  a  contradiction  of  this  opinion,  which  gladdens  my  heart. 
Since  your  examination,  I  have  seen  you  only  for  a  moment  yesterday,  I  have 
spoken  with  you  but  little ;  but  my  heart  is  full  of  affection  for  you.  How  little 
were  those  miserable  mechanical  accomplishments,  which  we  dealt  with,  filling 
your  minds !  Freedom,  courage,  elevating  strife  after  the  lofty,  the  noble  5  these 
were  upon  your  brows,  in  your  eyes,  in  your  glances,  in  your  whole  being.  The 
bliss  of  love  beamed  from  many  eyes.  Peace  was  upon  your  lips.  You 
were  far  more  yourselves,  and  for  the  sake  of  God,  than  you  were  created  by  us. 
The  talents  which  you  possess  appear  in  their  own  form,  as  you  possess  them, 
and  not  at  all  as  we  have  given  them  to  you.  It  is  true  that,  among  us,  the  bonds 
of  the  folly,  the  self-seeking,  and  the  misery  of  our  day,  are  loosed.  With  us,  a 
man  may  be  poor.  With  us,  any  one  may  be  destitute  of  all  those  means  toward 
artistic  training  which  are  attainable  by  wealth  and  by  favor,  and  may  yet  claim 
all  the  elevation  of  mind  and  of  heart  for  which  human  nature  is  created. 
Among  us,  the  saying  is  not  heard,  that  he  who  is  born  to  eat  hay  may  eat  hay. 
We  know  no  class  of  men  born  only  to  live  like  beasts.  We  believe  that  the 
lofty  endowments  of  human  nature  are  found  in  all  ranks  and  conditions  of  men. 
We  believe  that  as  every  man,  who  does  righteously,  is  acceptable  before  God  his 
creator,  so  that  every  man,  to  whom  God  himself  has  given  lofty  powers  of  mind 
and  of  heart,  is  entitled  to  assistance,  before  the  eyes  of  men.  and  in  the  midst  of 
them,  in  the  development  of  the  powers  which  God  has  given  him.  Therefore  is 
it  that  we  simplify  the  means  of  that  development ;  and  therefore  that  we  found 
upon  the  holy  power  of  love.  Children,  that  this  love  may  increase,  and  be  as- 
sured within  you,  is  all  that  we  propose  for  our  object.  Instruction,  as  such,  and 
of  itself,  does  not  produce  love,  any  more  than  it  produces  hate.  Therefore  it  is 
that  it  ia  not  the  essence  of  education.  Love  is  its  essence. 


PESTALOZZI -ADDRESS  ON  HIS  SEVENTY-THIRD  BIRTHDAY. 


UPON  closer  investigation  of  all  these  practical  means  of  elevating  the  poor, 
we  shall  not  be  able  to  conceal  from  ourselves  the  fact  that  they  all  alike  lack  the 
firm  certainty  arising  from  the  inmost  pure  spirit  of  all  true  and  profoundly  thor- 
ough human  education,  namely,  the  divinely-given  instinct  of  father  and  mother ; 
the  divinely-given  impulse  of  childlike  instincts;  the  everlasting  purity  of  bioth- 
erly  and  sisterly  affection,  which  never  passes  beyond  the  narrow  circle  of  the 
domestic  relations.  They  all  lack  the  certainty  and  continuity  which  conies  from 
the  connection  of  material  stimuli  to  faith  and  love  with  similarly  powerful  stimuli 
to  intellectual  and  physical  activity,  which  appeal  to  the  whole  of  human  nature 
in  freedom  and  by  conviction.  They  all  lack  the  lofty,  holy  influence  of  home. 
Their  external  scale  of  magnitude,  on  one  hand,  deprives  them  all  of  the  genial 
intimateness  of  domestic  life,  which  can  only  exist  within  a  narrow  circle  of  little 
close  relations;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  their  organization  always  rather  makes 
forcible  impressions  by  public  or  at  least  by  external  force,  than  exerts  the  blessed 
influence  of  domestic  piety ;  and  who  can  conceal  from  himself  how  unfatherly 
and  un motherly  are  the  human  beings  often  sent  forth  by  such  institutions,  owing 
to  their  circumstances,  and  especially  to  all  sorts  of  influences  and  interests  from 
directors,  managers,  stewards,  &c.  ?  Who  can  estimate  the  difficulties  which 
must  arise  from  this  source,  in  such  institutions,  in  the  way  of  the  inner,  holy  es- 
sence of  true  human  education  ?  Such  institutions,  however,  owing  to  the  pres- 
ent condition  of  non-education,  and  of  the  corresponding  moral,  mental,  and  do- 
mestic debasement  from  overrefinement,  are  at  present  an  urgent  necessity.  May 
God  grant  that  the  heart  of  those  of  the  present  day  may  be  interested  in  the 
object,  and  take  pity  even  according  to  the  prevailing  contracted  views  on  the 
want  and  degradation  of  the  poor,  in  all  that  concerns  both  soul  and  body — but 
that,  at  the  same  time,  it  will  not  be  forgotten  that  good  institutions  for  the  relief 
of  sufferers  by  fire  and  water  are  not  good  institutions  for  the  education  of  the 
<poor.  Provident  regulations  for  the  prevention  of  losses  by  fire  and  water  may, 
after  a  fashion,  be  classed  under  the  head  of  institutions  for  educating  the  poor ; 
'but  institutions  for  relieving  actual  losses  by  them  can  not. 

The  only  sure  foundation  upon  which  we  must  build,  for  institutions  for  popular 
education,  national  culture,  and  elevating  the  poor,  is  the  parental  heart;  which, 
by  means  of  the  innocence,  truth,  power,  and  purity  of  its  love,  kindles  in  the 
children  the  belief  in  love ;  by  means  of  which  all  the  bodily  and  mental  powers 
•of  the  children  are  united  to  obedience  in  love,  and  to  diligence  in  obedience.  It 
is  only  in  the  holiness  of  home  that  the  equal  development  of  all  the  human  fac- 
ulties can  be  directed,  managed,  and  assured  ;  and  it  is  from  this  point  that  edu- 
cational efforts  must  be  conducted,  if  education,  as  a  national  affair,  is  to  have  real 
reference  to  the  wants  of  the  people,  and  is  to  cause,  by  its  influence,  the  coincid- 
ing of  external  human  knowledge,  power,  and  motives  with  the  internal,  everlast- 
ing, divine  essence  of  our  nature. 


716         PESTALOZZI.-ADDRESS  ON  HIS  SEVENTY-THIRD  BIRTHDAY. 

If  the  saying  is  true,  "It  is  easy  to  add  to  what  is  already  discovered,"  it  is  in- 
finitely more  true  that  it  is  easy  to  add  to  the  inward  eternal  goodness  of  human 
nature,  whatever  external  goodness  human  skill  can  communicate  to  our  race  ; 
but  to  reverse  this  process,  to  endeavor  to  develop  that  eternal  inward  goodness 
of  human  nature,  out  of  our  mere  miserable  human  art,  deprived  of  its  divine 
foundation  ;  this  is  the  cause  of  the  deepest  error  of  the  wretched  debasement  of 
the  present  time.  The  homes  of  the  people — I  do  not  say  of  the  mob,  for  the 
mob  have  no  homes — the  homes  of  the  people  are  the  centers  where  unites  all 
that  is  divine  in  those  powers  of  human  nature  which  admit  of  education.  .  .  . 

The  greatest  evil  of  our  time,  and  the  greatest  and  almost  insurmountable  obstacle 
to  the  operation  of  any  thorough  means  is  this,  that  the  fathers  and  mothers  of  our 
times  have  almost  universally  lost  the  consciousness  that  they  can  do  any  thing — 
every  thing — for  the  education  of  their  children.  This  great  falling  away  from 
their  faith,  of  fathers  and  mothers,  is  the  universal  source  of  the  superficial  char- 
acter of  our  means  of  education. 

In  order  to  improve  the  education  of  the  people  as  a  national  interest,  and  uni- 
versally, it  is,  above  all,  necessary  that  parents  should  be  awakened  again  to  con- 
sciousness that  they  can  do  something — much — every  thing — for  the  education  of 
their  children.  Fathers  and  mothers  must,  above  all,  learn  to  feel  vividly  how 
great  an  advantage — as  intrusted  by  God  and  their  own  conscience  with  the  duty 
of  educating  their  own  children — they  enjoy,  over  any  others  to  be  employed  as 
assistants  then  -in.  And,  for  like  reasons,  it  is  indispensable  that  there  should  be 
a  general  public  recognition  of  the  fact  that  a  child  who  has  lost  father  and  mother 
is  still  a  poor,  unfortunate  orphan,  even  though  his  guardian  can  employ  the  first 
among  all  the  masters  of  education  in  the  world  to  teach  him.  .  .  . 

.  .  .  Truth  is  every  where  and  nowhere ;  and  only  he  lives  in  the  truth 
who  sees  it  every  where,  as  a  phenomenon  bound  up  with  a  thousand  others,  and 
nowhere,  as  an  exacting,  isolated  idol  before  him.  But  the  visionary  weakness  of 
man  easily  leads  him  to  carve  a  graven  image  out  of  every  great  idea  which  he 
takes  to  his  bosom,  and  to  recognize  and  admit  all  truth,  all  the  rights  of  men, 
only  with  a  one-sided  reference  to  this  idol,  and  to  whatever  may  serve  its  selfish 
requirements.  Even  great  men,  and  deep  thinkers,  are  not  secure  from  the  dan- 
ger of  seeing  isolated  opinions  become  almost  a  sort  of  monomania  ;  not  indeed 
as  absolutely  as  those,  the  terror  of  mankind,  which  are  heard  from  hopeless  bed- 
lamites ;  yet  it  is  undeniable  that  favorite  conceptions  pushed  too  far,  and  views 
which  become  daily  familiar,  are  liable,  even  in  deep  thinkers,  to  acquire  stach  a 
sort  of  hardness  that  it  easily  becomes  impossible  to  treat  them  as  they  are,  moral 
and  intellectual,  without  prejudice,  and  freely,  but  the  thinker  becomes  a  servant 
to  his  idea.  The  world  is  full  of  men  thus  prejudiced  for  some  particular  views. 
Are  there  not  hundreds  in  every  profession — military,  civil,  judicial,  or  any  other, 
distinguished  each  in  his  department — who  are  holden  by  their  opinions  relative 
to  their  favorite  pursuit,  in  a  manner  at  least  very  similar  to  those  possessed  by  a 
monomania?  I  must  proceed  still  further.  I  must  ask  myself  whether  there  are 
not,  amongst  us,  many  traces  of  this  hardening  into  views  of  some  great  idea  ?  I 
must  ask,  distinctly,  have  not  incompatible  ideas  become  equally  fixed,  in  this  way, 
in  our  heads  ?  This  I  believe  so  truly  to  be  the  case,  that  I  am  completely  con- 
vinced that  we  can  in  no  way  arrive  at  a  universal  internal  union  of  the  hour,  and 
at  an  actual  harmony  of  views  relative  to  what  we  call  our  method,  except  by  ef- 
forts to  put  upon  an  equality  within  us  all  views  relative  to  that  method — whether 
mathematical,  theological-philosophical,  natural-philosophical,  humanist,  philan 


PESTALOZZI  -ADDRESS  ON  HIS  SEVENTY-THIRD  BIRTHDAY.        ^ 

throp'st,  or  whatever — and  by  not  permitting  ourselves  to  be  governed  by  any 
idea  which  is  in  progress  of  becoming  fixed,  as  I  have  described.  If  we  can  lift 
ourselves  to  this  point,  the  stand  to  which  our  efforts  have  come,  by  means  of  the 
determination  of  some  of  us  to  conform  ourselves  in  certain  views,  would,  by 
means  of  the  increased  power  of  each  of  us  within  his  department,  become  really 
valuable  for  the  whole  of  our  enterprise  ;  and  I  am  certain  that,  in  that  case,  none 
of  us  would  intrude  himself  beyond  the  circle  in  which  he  can  work  most  profit 
ably  for  the  promotion  of  our  designs.  In  that  case,  I  myself  should  not  be  en- 
tirely without  that  circle.  On  the  contrary,  I  am  sure  that  the  sentence  of  death, 
of  moral  and  intellectual  failure,  would  no  longer  be  passed  upon  me  with  so  much 
zeal  and  pleasure  as  has  been  the  case  for  years  immediately  around  me.  Many 
would  then  be  convinced  that  I  am  alive.  The  misunderstandings  which  are  and 
must  be  every  moment  crowding  about  me,  as  things  are,  are  innumerable.  But 
if  they  are  for  ever  and  ever  to  be  taken  as  true  against  me,  because  they  last 
long  and  are  accompanied  with  the  influence  of  men  very  active  hereabouts,  what 
must  j.  think  of  such  a  fate  ?  What  I  do  think  is  this :  that  courts  which  con- 
demn the  accused  on  such  evidence  will  be  abhorred  by  the  whole  unprejudiced 
world.  And  for  the  future  I  have  no  fears  on  this  account.  I  am  not  ungrateful, 
and  never  shall  be  known  as  such.  .  .  .  Friends,  brothers  !  coldnesses  have 
crept  in  among  us,  which  are  the  result  of  the  whole  extent  of  the  history  of  our 
association  and  of  that  outwardly  chaotic  condition,  which  has  overpowered  the 
goodness  and  nobility  which  lay  and  still  lies  at  the  bottom  of  our  association,  and 
have  brought  it  to  pass  that,  here  and  there  among  us,  one  looks  at  another  through 
spectacles  whose  glasses  are  no  longer  clear,  and  can  be  clear  no  more.  Broth- 
ers !  the  evils  of  our  house  are  not  of  to-day,  nor  of  yesterday.  They  came  from 
afar.  From  the  beginning  of  our  union,  we  have  admitted  among  us  habits  and 
ways  of  living  which  must  necessarily,  by  their  very  nature,  produce  disagree- 
ments; and  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that,  in  order  to  judge  of  these,  we  should 
look  ear. 'fully  back  to  the  days  of  the  beginning  of  our  association.  It  was  in 
truth  then  that  the  origin  of  the  evils,  under  which  we  have  lain  so  long,  sprouted 
and  took  root.  What  is  passed  is  no  longer  here ;  but,  even  though  we  forget  it, 
its  influence  is  no  less  upon  the  present.  Friends,  brothers!  the  hours  when  we 
unit  d  ourselves  in  the  beginning,  were  hours  of  perfect  dreaming;  and  of  great 
error  in  that  dreaming.  In  those  days  the  world  seemed  to  seek  what  we  sought, 
and  to  love  what  we  loved.  Tlie  delusion  of  the  time  fell  in  with  our  efforts  ;  the 
inf  •'•••sts  of  the  public  authorities  seemed  at  that  time  to  have  become  the  same 
with  our  own ;  even  the  selfishness  of  thousands,  now  in  opposition  to  us,  seemed 
then  to  coincide  with  our  views.  What  we  did  was  thought  excellent  before  it 
was  understood  ;  even  before  we  ourselves  understood  it.  Honors  and  praises 
carried  us  almost  beyond  ourselves.  The  pecuniary  prosperity  of  our  undertaking 
seemed  to  us  to  be  secured,  almost  without  effort  and  without  care.  But  the  vis- 
ion of  this  paradise  in  the  air  soon  passed  by.  The  thorns  and  thistles  of  the 
world  soon  began  to  grow  up  around  us,  as  they  do  round  the  lives  and  doings  of 
all  men.  But  the  dreams  of  those  days  profited  us  nothing.  They  weakened  our 
powers,  when  they  so  variously  and  so  urgently  needed  strengthening.  Truly, 
the  climate  of  those  days  was  too  pleasant  for  us.  We  prepared  ourselves  for  liv- 
ing in  the  warm  South,  when  the  hard,  cold  days  of  the  North  were  awaiting  us. 
Why  should  we  conceal  from  ourselves  the  truth  ?  The  vigor  and  purity  of  our 
ardor  for  our  object  grew  weak  in  those  days,  and  became,  in  some  cases,  only  a 
; pretense  while  good  fortune  lasted,  not  knowing  the  power  of  that  zeal  which  in 


718          PESTALOZZI  —  ADDRESS  ON  HIS  SEVENTY-THIRD  13IRTIIDA* 

misfortune  still  burns,  and  is  not  extinguished  even  in  days  of  the  greatest  trouble. 
I  myself  see  in  those  days  the  origin  of  the  evils  which  oppress  us  now  ;  and  con- 
sider incorrect  all  opinions  respecting  our  later  condition,  which  do  not  have  refer- 
ence to  these  earlier  sources  of  them.  It  is  always  necessary,  in  judging  of  any 
particular  situation  or  occurrence  among  us,  to  have  reference  to  the  character  of 
the  bond  which  united  us  to  each  other;  whose  peculiar  quality  was  this,  that  no 
one  of  us  was,  by  virtue  of  that  bond,  any  other  than  what  the  peculiarities  of  his 
own  personal,  individual  nature  made  him.  Consider  the  importance  of  this 
point ;  that  among  us  nature  did  every  thing,  art  nothing.  In  reference  to  the 
persons  of  the  adult  members  of  our  house,  we  lived  without  government,  and 
without  obedience.  No  more  free  development  of  our  individuality  can  be  imag- 
ined ;  nor  any  condition  more  dangerous  and  oppressive  to  my  home  and  my 
place.  Friends!  in  your  judgments  upon  my  condition  and  my  conduct,  consider 
this,  and  reflect,  further,  upon  the  great  concourse  of  persons  who  became  mem- 
bers of  the  establishment,  without  knowing  what  we  sought,  without  desiring  what 
we  had,  without  the  abilities  which  we  needed  ;  and  who  thus  were,  in  reference 
to  myself,  presuming,  and  unrestrained  in  their  conduct,  just  in  proportion  as  I 
was  under  constraint  with  reference  to  them.  Friends !  consider  the  establish- 
ment in  the  extent  of  all  its  relations :  all  the  necessities  into  which  I  fell,  all  the 
burdens  which  came  upon  me ;  and  compare  them  with  my  destitution  of  all 
those  means  and  powers  which  were  required  to  meet,  even  in  a  distant  degree, 
the  external  and  internal  requirements  of  our  association.  Friends !  our  inno- 
cence at  the  beginning  of  our  association  was  praiseworthy,  and  the  aims  of  that 
innocence  were  praiseworthy.  But  did  innocence  ever  overcome  the  power  of 
the  many  ?  And  is  it  not  a  mere  natural  necessity  that  it  should  yield  to  that 
power  ?  Or  did  it  ever  perfect  an  enterprise  which  ventured  to  throw  itself,  with 
all  its  outward  weaknesses,  into  the  power  of  the  world  and  the  current  of  it, 
without  a  strong  steersman,  as  our  enterprise  did  ?  Truly,  we,  in  the  dreams  of 
our  first  innocence,  sought  for  such  a  life  as  ancient  piety  dreamed  of  in  a  cloister ; 
and  at  the  same  time  we  lived  in  the  utmost  imaginable  freedom.  The  youngest 
of  our  inmates  soon  almost  universally  practiced  a  freedom  of  speech  which  the 
world  permits  to  no  novices  ;  and  of  the  elder  ones,  none  thought  of  any  privi- 
leges of  a  father-prior.  And  I  represented  the  abbot  of  the  monastery ;  when, 
in  some  respects,  I  was  much  more  fit  for  the  donkey  of  the  monastery,  or  at  least 
the  sheep,  than  the  abbot.  Friends !  I  speak  plainly  on  this  point.  All  this 
is  well  understood  ;  and  does  not  at  all  derogate  from  the  real  good  which  has 
been  planted,  has  taken  root,  and  still  exists  among  us,  and  which  is  so  perfectly 
well  known  by  its  results  on  so  many  of  our  pupils,  and  by  the  conduct  and  the 
success  of  so  many  adult  men  who  have  been  trained  among  us.  But  it  is  now 
time,  and  also  a  duty,  to  turn  our  attention,  with  truth,  freedom,  and  earnestness, 
to  a  subject  important  in  itself,  and  which  on  various  accounts  has  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  world.  "We  must  endure  the  responsibilities  of  our  places ;  and 
it  would  be  well  if  a  deeper  consciousness  of  this  obligation  prevailed  among  us. 
From  this  responsibility  we  can  not  escape.  All  that  is  noble  and  pure — even 
that  which  is  noblest  and  purest  in  the  world — if  it  increases  and  grows  great 
rapidly,  must  then  decrease  and  deteriorate ;  and  we  grew  much  too  fast,  in  our 
efforts  after  our  good  object,  to  know  and  practice  sufficiently  the  rules  which 
would  have  maintained  and  strengthened  the  growth  of  what  was  good  amongst 
us.  The  greater  number  of  those  who  called  themselves  ours,  came  to  us  rather 
by  chance  than  by  election  or  our  choice  ;  and  however  the  temporary  appear- 


PESTALOZZI  —  ADDRESS  ON   HIS  SEVENTY-THIRD  BIRTHDAY.         7l£ 

ance  of  many  things  amongst  us  might  have  been  understood  by  a  practiced  eye- 
to  indicate  only  their  ephemeral  nature,  most  of  them  thought  my  imprudence  and 
weakness  perennial.  This  could  of  course  not  do  otherwise  than  to  originate  al- 
most incurable  evils  amongst  us.  Even  the  best  enterprise,  if  it  increases  too 
rapidly,  becomes  degraded  by  the  evil  qualities  of  the  mass  which  accretes  to  it; 
then  seizes,  with  the  vigorous  radical  power  of  evil,  upon  the  usually  weak  roots 
of  what  is  good  5  and  then  becomes,  even  while  intermingled  with  the  overpowered 
goodness  yet  remaining,  a  I'ecruiting-station  for  evil,  which  gathers  in  every  incau- 
tious passer-by ;  and  experience  shows  that  men  once  enlisted  on  the  side  of  evil 
soon  become  sworn  conspirators  for  it,  and,  although  feeble  in  the  ordinary  opera- 
tions of  life,  show  great  power  and  much  bad  cunning  in  promoting  their  evil 
objects,  whether  idleness,  disorder,  impudence,  or  whatever  they  may  be — or  at 
least  in  obstructing  the  dominion  of  their'  opposites.  When  things  come  to  this 
pass,  whether  in  a  small  or  large  association  of  men,  the  necessity  of  some  govern- 
ing authority,  competent  to  control  such  a  state  of  affairs,  becomes  fully  recog- 
nized ;  and,  at  however  late  a  period,  aid  from  such  authority  is  sought  for.  But 
the  very  cause  that  makes  such  control  sought  for,  disenables  those  who  apply  to 
such  authority  from  judging  of  it.  Judgments  formed  in  such  cases  are,  there- 
fore, commonly  wrong ;  and  the  necessitous  state  into  which  such  applicants  have 
fallen,  is  almost  always  a  bad  counselor.  This  was  the  case  with  us.  We  sought 
and  sought,  but  did  not  find.  And  at  no  time  was  there  more  error  relative  to 
myself.  Every  one  thought  me  unfit  to  govern  ;  but  I  was  still  permitted  to  re- 
main, as  if  I  were  fit,  and  the  relations  of  all  remained  such  as  if  I  were  so. 
This  condition  of  affairs  could  lead  to  no  relief.  I  should  surely  have  succumbed 
under  it,  had  not  the  protecting  providence  of  God  so  graciously  watched  over 
me,  that  often  the  apparently  unavoidable  results  of  my  faults  passed  by,  as  if  they 
had  not  happened.  This  is  so  true,  that  I  myself  do  not  know,  and  can  not  ex- 
plain it  to  myself,  how  I  have  been  able  to  pass  through  the  turbulent  and  track- 
less chaos  into  which  I  have  been  cast,  without  entire  ruin  ;  and  to  attain  to  that 
point  of  power  and  efficiency  upon  which  1  see  and  feel  myself  to  be  standing. 


PATERNAL    INSTRUCTIONS. 

DURING  that  happiest  period  of  Pestalozzi's  career,  his  labors  at  Burg- 
-dorf,  he  sketched  out  many  rough  drafts  of  lessons,  to  be  filled  up  by 
his  assistants,  in  thc'ir  class  room  exercises,  as  a  sort  of  encyclopedia  of 
social  science.  Many  of  these  fragments  came  into  the  possession  of 
Kriisi,  who,  after  the  death  of  Pestalozzi,  edited  and  published  them 
under  the  title  of  "  Paternal  Instructions,  a  Bequest  of  Father  Pesta- 
lozzi to  His  Pupils."  We  give  a  few  extracts  from  Biber's  volume. 

Almsgiving. 
"The  best  alms  is  that  which  enables  the  receiver  to  cease  begging." 

Changing. 

"  Change,  my  child,  change  all  that  thou  doest  and  performest,  until  thou  hast 
perfected  it,  and  thou  be  fully  satisfied  with  it.  Change  not  thyself,  however, 
like  a  weathercock,  uith  «-\vry  wind  ;  but  change  thyself  so  that  thou  mayest 
become  better  and  nobler,  ami  that  all  that  thou  doest  may  be  ever  more  excellent 
and  perfect.  No  such  change  will  ever  cause  thee  to  repent." 

Baiting. 

king  is,  like  all  cooking,  a  fruit  of  civilization.  The  savage  knows  of  no 
preparation  of  his  food ;  he  eats  every  thing  raw,  like  tin-  l>rut«-s.  and,  accordingly, 
he  eats  it,  like  them,  with  brutal  greediness.  A  wise  diet  of  nn-at  and  drink  is 
only  possible  when  the  food  is  prepared  by  art,  and  it  is  then  only  that  man  can 
•ruard  himself  against  the  voracity  of  the  animal.  Baking,  therefore,  and  every 
other  sort  of  cooking,  is  a  far  more  important  business  than  it  appears  to  be  at 
first  sight.  It  procures  to  us  the  most  wholesome  of  all  nutriments — that  bread 
which,  as  a  common  necessary  of  life,  we  daily  ask  of  God,  in  the  most  sublime 
of  all  prayers." 

Bathing. 

"  By  bathing  we  cleanse  ourselves  from  bodily  impurities  ;  the  impurities  of  the 
soul,  however,  are  not  removed  either  by  common  or  by  consecrated  water,  but 
only  by  a  renovation  of  mind  in  faith  and  love." 

Quaking. 

"  The  most  violent  quaking,  which  causes  houses  and  cities  to  fall  in  ruins,  and 
which  shakes  even  the  foundations  of  the  mountains,  is  that  terrible  convulsion 
of  nature  which  we  call  an  earthquake ;  but  infinitely  more  terrible  is  the  secret 
quaking  of  a  guilt-laden  soul,  at  the  prospect  of  the  inevitable  discovery  and  pun- 
ishment of  its  crim.  s." 

Beginning. 

"The  beginning  of  every  thing  precedes  its  existence  and  its  continuation. 
The  first  day  of  creation  was  the  beginning  of  the  world.  From  the  beginning 
God  hath  set  forth  his  almighty  power,  his  wisdom,  and"  goodness,  in  all  that  he 


PATERNAL  INSTRUCTIONS.  70] 

has  made.  From  the  beginning,  the  hand  of  his  providence  has  ordained  the 
destinies  of  mankind  ;  it  has  ordained  thy  destiny  also,  my  child.  Rejoice, 
therefore,  and  put  thy  trust  in  him,  who  is,  and  was,  and  shall  be,  the  everlasting 
•God." 

Bowing  and  Bending. 

"  Man,  the  only  creature  that  carries  his  head  so  erect,  should  he  never  bov/ 
it?  Verily,  he  does!  For  God  has  deeply  impressed  upon  his  heart  the  feeling 
•of  his  weakness,  and  a  reverential  awe  for  all  that  is  great  and  lofty.  His  head 
is  involuntarily  bowed  down  under  the  oppressive  consciousness  of  his  guilt.  His 
•eye  sinks  in  gratitude  before  the  saver  of  his  life,  his  wife,  his  child.  Verily, 
verily,  it  was  no  art  that  bent  the  knee  of  the  first  man  who  prostrated  himself  in 
the  dust  at  the  sight  of  the  rising  sun.  It  was  God  within  him,  who  thus  laid 
him  low ;  and  he  rose  more  humanized  in  his  feelings,  than  if  he  had  proudly 
faced  its  bright  beam.  But  the  work  of  God  is  defiled  in  the  bowings  and  bend- 
ings  of  hypocrisy,  by  which  human  nature  is  as  much  degraded  as  it  is  elevated 
•and  ennobled  by  pious  adoration,  lowly  modesty,  and  kneeling  gratitude." 

Blossoming. 

"  Youth,  thou  season  of  blossoms,  how  fair  thou  art !  But,  remember  that  th> 
<}harms  are  destined  quickly  to  pass  away.  Thou  canst  not  ripen,  unless  they 
vanish.  Therefore,  value  thou  the  lasting  fruits  of  life  above  the  fleeting  beaut} 
of  its  blossoms." 

Thanking. 

'  Good  men  and  good  things,  my  child,  cause  joy  to  the  man  of  pure  heart, 
even  though  he  derive  no  benefit  from  them ;  but  when  he  is  benefited  by  them, 
bis  joy  is  increased.  He  then  seeks  the  author  of  all  goodness  and  of  all  joy  j 
aud,  when  he  has  found  him,  his  voice  is  drowned  in  the  overflow'ng  of  his  feel- 
ings. Tears  glisten  in  his  eyes.  These,  my  child,  are  the  thanks  of  the  heart, 
which  elevate  and  ennoble  the  soul.  Whoever  thanks  not  God,  deserves  not  to  be 
•called  man ;  and  whoever  thanks  not  his  fellow-men,  is  unworthy  of  all  the  good 
which  God  bestows  upon  him  through  the  hand  of  man." 

Thinking. 

"  Thinking  leads  men  to  knowledge.  He  may  see  and  hear,  and  read  and 
learn  whatever  he  please,  and  as  much  as  he  please ;  he  will  never  know  any  of 
it,  except  that  which  he  has  thought  over,  that  which,  by  thinking,  he  has  made 
the  property  of  his  mind.  Is  it  then  saying  too  much,  if  I  say  that  man,  by 
thinking  only,  becomes  truly  man.  Take  away  thought  from  man's  life,  and 
what  remains?" 

Threatening. 

'•It  is  a  misfortune  if  one  man  threaten  another.  Either  he  i 3  corrupt  who 
does  it,  or  he  who  requires  it." 

Failing. 

"  All  men  fail,  and  manifold  are  their  failings.  Nothing  is  perfect  under  the 
«un.  But,  unless  a  man  despise  himself,  he  will  not  think  lightly  of  any  of  his 
fellings." 

Refining. 

"  Man  wishes  to  have  things  not  only  good,  but  shining;  therefore  is  there  so 
much  refining  in  the  world.  Silver,  gold,  and  steel  are  polished  ;  the  finest  silk, 

46 


722  PATERNAL   INSTRUCTIONS. 

:he  softest  wool,  the  clearest  cotton,  the  mellowest  tints,  the  mos*.  exquisite  tra- 
grancies,  the  most  delicate  sounds,  the  most  delicious  spices,  and  the  most  luxuri- 
ous pillows  are  preferred.  But  where  human  nature  has  attained  the  greatest 
refinement  of  sense,  a  man  of  nerve  is  hardly  to  be  found.  The  highest  degree 
of  this  refinement  is  generally  the  point  from  which  the  decline  of  individuals  and 
nations  takes  its  beginning. 

"  The  builder,  who  wishes  to  erect  a  durable  structure,  must  do  it  with  strong 
timber ;  he  must  not,  by  sawing  and  planing,  make  his  bearers  and  planks  so 
thin  as  to  render  them  unfit  for  the  purpose  for  which  they  are  intended.  And  ia 
the  same  way,  parents  and  teachers  ought  never  to  refine  the  children,  nor  gov- 
ernments the  nations,  to  such  a  point  as  to  make  them  lose  the  strength  of  their 
limbs,  the  freshness  of  their  cheeks,  and  the  muscle  of  their  arms." 

Darkening. 

"  The  setting  of  the  sun  darkens  the  earth ;  and  the  failing  of  hope  the  soul1 
of  man.  Why,  then,  is  it  that  every  hope  of  man  is  not  daily  renewed,  like  that 
of  the  rising  sun.  It  is  well  that  he  should  not  forever  set  his  hope  upon  outward 
things ;  but  seek  his  repose  and  his  happiness  within  himself,  in  those  things 
which  do  not  rise  and  set  daily,  like  the  sun  of  this  earth." 

Hoping. 

"  Hoping  and  waiting  make  many  a  fool.  And  are  we,  then,  not  to  hope  at 
all  ?  How  unhappy  would  man  be  without  that  beam  of  hope  which,  in  suffer- 
ing and  sorrow,  sheds  light  through  the  darkness  of  his  soul.  But  his  hope 
must  be  intelligent.  He  must  not  hope  where  there  is  no  hope.  He  must  look 
•t  the  past  with  a  steady  eye,  in  order  to  know  what  he  may  hope  of  the  futw  *."" 


EVENING  HOUR  OF  A  HERMIT.' 

BY  JOHN   HENRY   PESTALOZZI. 


MAN,  as  he  is,  the  same  whether  on  a  throne  or  under  the  forest  leaves ;  man 
in  his  essence ;  what  is  he  ?  "Why  do  not  the  wise  tell  us  ?  Why  do  not  great 
intellects  inform  us  what  is  the  reality  of  our  race  ?  Does  a  farmer  use  oxen, 
and  not  study  to  understand  them  ?  Does  a  shepherd  not  investigate  the  nature 
of  his  sheep  ? 

And  ye  who  use  men,  and  say  that  you  protect  and  cherish  them ;  do  you 
care  for  them  as  a  farmer  does  for  his  oxen  ?  Have  you  such  care  of  them  as  a 
shepherd  over  his  sheep  ?  Is  your  wisdom  a  knowledge  of  your  race,  and  are- 
your  benefits  those  of  enlightened  shepherds  of  your  people  ? 

What  man  is,  what  he  needs,  what  elevates  him  and  degrades  him,  what 
strengthens  him  and  weakens  him,  such  is  the  knowledge  needed,  both  by  a 
shepherd  of  the  people  and  by  the  inmate  of  the  most  lowly  hut. 

Everywhere,  humanity  feels  this  want.  Everywhere  it  struggles  to  satisfy 
it,  with  labor  and  eagerness.  For  the  want  of  it,  men  live  restless  lives,  and 
at  death  they  cry  aloud  that  they  have  not  fulfilled  the  purposes  of  their  being. 
Then*  end  is  not  the  ripening  of  the  perfect  fruits  of  the  year,  which  in  full  com- 
pletion are  laid  away  for  the  repose  of  the  winter. 

Why  does  man  investigate  truth  without  order  or  purpose  ?  Why  does  he 
not  seek  after  what  his  nature  needs,  that  therewith  he  may  secure  pleasure  and 
blessings  for  his  life  ?  Why  does  he  not  seek  Truth,  which  will  afford  him  in- 
ward peace,  will  develop  his  faculties,  make  his  days  cheerful  and  his  years 
blessed? 

Source  of  the  deepest  peace  of  our  existence,  pure  power  of  our  nature,  bless- 
ing of  our  being,  thou  art  no  dream.  To  seek  thee,  to  investigate  after  thee,  is 
the  end  and  destiny  of  man ;  thou  art  both  a  necessity  to  me,  and  an  impulse 
from  the  deepest  part  of  my  soul,  0  end  and  destiny  of  man  1 

By  what  road  shall  I  seek  thee,  0  truth,  who  liftest  my  nature  toward  perfec- 
tion ?  Man,  driven  by  his  wants,  will  find  the  path  to  this  truth,  by  the  way  of 
his  own  inmost  soul. 

The  powers  of  conferring  blessings  upon  humanity  are  not  a  gift  of  art  or  of  acci- 
dent. They  exist,  with  their  fundamental  principles,  in  the  inmost  nature  of  all 
men.  Their  development  is  the  universal  need  of  humanity. 

Central  point  of  life,  individual  destiny  of  man,  thou  art  the  book  of  nature- 
In  thee  lieth  the  power  and  the  plan  of  that  wise  teacher ;  and  every  school 
education  not  erected  upon  the  principles  of  human  development,  leads  astray. 

The  happy  infant  learns  by  this  road  what  his  mother  is  to  him ;  and  tbu» 
grows  within  him  the  actual  sentiment  of  love  and  of  gratitude,  before  he  can 

*  Abendstunde  eines  Einsiedlers.— Pestalozzi,  Werke,  vol.  5,  p.  271. 


724  PESTALOZZl'8  EVENING  HOUR  OF  A  HERMIT. 

understand  the  words,  Duty  or  Thanks.  And  the  son  who  eats  his  father's 
bread,  and  is  kept  warm  from  his  flocks,  finds  by  the  same  nature-directed  way 
the  blessing  upon  his  studies,  and  his  duties  as  a  child. 

All  humanity  is  in  its  essence  the  same ;  and  to  its  content  there  is  but  one 
road.  Therefore  that  truth  which  rises  from  our  inmost  being,  is  universal  humar 
truth ;  and  woi Jd  serve  as  a  truth  for  the  reconciliation  of  those  who  are  quarrel- 
ing by  thousands  over  its  husks. 

Man,  it  is  thou  thyself,  the  inner  consciousness  of  thy  powers,  which  is  the 
nbject  of  the  education  of  nature. 

The  general  elevation  of  these  inward  powers  of  the  human  mind  to  a  pure 
human  wisdom,  is  the  universal  purpose  of  the  education  even  of  the  lowest 
men.  The  practice,  application  and  use  of  these  powers  and  this  wisdom,  under 
special  circumstances  and  conditions  of  humanity,  is  education  for  a  profession 
or  social  condition.  These  must  always  be  kept  subordinate  to  the  general 
object  of  human  training. 

"Wisdom  and  power  based  upon  simplicity  and  innocence,  are  efficient  bless- 
ings in  all  human  circumstances,  and  in  every  misfortune,  as  well  as  an  indis- 
pensable necessity  in  every  elevation  of  position. 

To  him  who  is  not  a  Man,  a  man  developed  in  his  inmost  powers,  to  him  is 
•wanting  a  basis  for  an  education  suited  to  his  immediate  destiny  and  to  his 
special  circumstances,  such  as  no  external  elevation  can  excuse.  Between  the 
father  and  the  prince,  the  needy  man  struggling  with  difficulties  for  his  sustenance 
and  the  rich  oppressed  by  cares  still  more  burdensome,  the  ignorant  woman  and 
the  renowned  philosopher,  the  indolent  slumberer  and  the  genius  whose  eagle 
powers  influence  all  the  world,  there  are  wide  gulfs.  But  if  those,  in  their  lofti- 
ness, lack  real  manhood,  dark  clouds  surround  them ;  while  in  these,  a  cultiva- 
ted manhood,  pure,  elevated  and  sufficing  human  greatness,  will  of  itself  shine 
forth  from  the  lowest  hut. 

Thus  a  prince  in  his  greatness  may  long  for  a  wise  and  upright  code  of  regula- 
tions for  his  prisons,  yet  may  offer  in  vain  a  purse  filled  with  gold  for  it.  Let 
him  bring  real  manhood  into  his  council  of  war,  his  councils  of  forestry  and  of  ex- 
chequer, and  let  his  conduct  be  truly  fatherly  within  his  own  house,  and  let  him 
wisely,  earnestly  and  paternally  train  up  judges  and  protectors  for  his  prisoners. 

Without  this,  the  name  of  enlightened  laws  is,  in  the  mouth  of  heartless  men, 
•only  another  name  for  selfishness. 

So  far  art  thou  perhaps,  0  Prince,  from  the  blessing  of  truth  which  you  seek. 

Meanwhile  are  laboring  in  the  dust  beneath  your  leet,  good  fathers  with  their 
ill  taught  children.  Prince,  learn  the  wisdom  applicable  to  your  prisoners  from 
the  tears  of  their  night  watchings;  and  delegate  thy  rights  over  life  and  deaih  to 
men  who  seek  that  wisdom  in  that  source.  Prince,  educated  humanity  is  the 
blessing  of  the  world ;  and  only  through  it  is  enlightenment  efficient,  and  wis- 
dom, and  the  inmost  blessing  of  all  laws. 

Educated  powers  of  humanity,  these  sources  of  your  mighty  deeds  and  peace- 
ful pleasures  are  no  purposeless  impulse,  nor  deceitful  error. 

The  path  of  nature,  for  developing  the  faculties  of  humanity,  must  be  open 
and  easy;  and  the  method  for  educating  men  to  true  and  satisfying  wisdom, 
simple,  and  universally  applicable. 

Nature  develops  all  the  human  faculties  by  practice;  and  their  growth 
jiepends  upon  their  exercise. 


PESTALOZZIS  EVENING  HOUR  OF  A  HERMIT. 


725 


The  method  of  nature  for  educating  humanity  is,  the  explanation  and  practice 
of  its  knowledge,  its  gifts,  and  its  qualities. 

Therefore  the  simplicity  and  innocence  of  that  man  are  educated  by  nature, 
who  uses  a  thorough  and  obedient  explanation  of  his  knowledge,  and  with 
silent  industry  uses  his  powers,  and  develops  them  into  a  true  human  wisdom. 
On  the  other  hand,  that  man  is  incapable  of  the  pleasure  of  the  blessings  of 
truth,  who  violates  within  himself  this  natural  order,  and  weakens  his  sensibility 
for  obedience  and  knowledge. 

Men,  fathers,  force  not  the  faculties  of  your  children  into  paths  too  distant, 
before  they  have  attained  strength  by  exercise,  and  avoid  harshness  and  over- 
fatigue. 

When  this  right  order  of  proceedings  is  anticipated,  the  faculties  of  the  mind 
are  weakened,  and  lose  their  steadiness,  and  the  equipoise  of  their  structure. 

This  you  do  when,  before  making  them  sensitive  to  truth  and  wisdom  by  the 
real  knowledge  of  actual  objects,  you  engage  them  in  the  thousand-fold  confusions 
of  word-learning  and  opinions ;  and  lay  the  foundation  of  their  mental  character 
and  of  the  first  determination  of  their  powers,  instead  of  truth  and  actual  ob- 
jects,, with  sounds  and  speech — and  words. 

The  artificial  mode  of  the  schools,  which  everywhere  crowds  in  this  affair  of 
words,  instead  of  the  easy  and  slower  waiting  method  of  nature,  endows  men 
with  an  artificial  show  of  acquirement  which  ornaments  over  their  lack  of  inner 
natural  powers,  and  which  satisfies  such  times  as  the  present  century. 

The  miserable  exhausting  struggle  for  the  mere  shadow  of  truth,  the  struggle 
for  the  accent  and  sound  and  words  only,  of  truth,  where  no  interest  can  be  felt, 
and  no  application  is  practicable ;  the  subjection  of  all  the  powers  of  growing 
humanity  to  the  opinions  of  a  hard  and  one-sided  schoolmaster ;  the  thousand- 
fold niceties  of  word-changing  and  fashionable  style  of  teaching,  which  are  made 
the  basis  of  human  education — all  these  are  sad  defections  from  the  path  of 
nature. 

Moreover,  a  strict  and  stiff  adherence  to  one  order  is  not  nature's  way  of 
teaching.  If  it  were,  she  would  train  one-sided  characters ;  and  her  truth  would 
not  accommodate  itself  easily  and  freely  to  the  feelings  of  all  men. 

Such  a  severe  course  would  not  develop  the  truth  within  man  to  be  his  useful 
servant,  nor  to  be  a  good  and  affectionate  mother,  whose  happiness  and  wisdom 
are  the  happiness  and  necessity  of  her  children. 

The  power  of  nature,  although  unquestionably  leading  to  truth,  leads  with 
no  stiffness.  The  voice  of  the  nightingale  sounds  out  of  the  darkness ;  and  all 
the  appearances  of  nature  operate,  in  an  enlivening  freedom,  without  the  shadow 
of  constraint  anywhere,  according  to  a  prescribed  order. 

Man  loses  all  the  balance  of  his  powers,  the  efficacy  of  his  wisdom,  if  his 
mind  is  too  one-sidedly  and  forcibly  applied  to  any  subject.  Nature's  mode  of 
teaching  is  therefore  not  a  forcible  one. 

But  her  teaching  is  steady  and  consistent;  and  her  method  is  strictly 
economical. 

Education  of  man  to  truth,  thou  art  the  education  of  his  existence  and  his 
nature  to  satisfying  wisdom. 

Man  who  seekest  truth  after  this  method  of  nature,  you  will  find  it  in  propor- 
tion as  you  make  it  your  stand  point  and  your  path. 

In  proportion  as  that  truth  is  requisite  to  your  repose  and  your  enjoyment,  as 


726  pESTALozzrs  EVENING  HOUR  OF  A  HERMIT. 

it  is  your  guiding  star  in  your  troubles  and  the  support  upon  which  your  life 
rests,  in  that  proportion  it  will  be  your  blessing. 

The  circle  of  knowledge,  through  which  every  man  in  his  own  place  becomes 
blessed,  begins  immediately  around  him ;  from  his  being ;  from  his  closest  rela 
tions;  extends  from  this  beginning;  and  at  every  increase  must  have  reference 
to  truth,  that  central  point  of  all  powers  for  blessing. 

Pure  sensibility  to  truth  grows  up  within  a  narrow  sphere ;  and  pure  human 
wisdom  rests  upon  the  solid  basis  of  the  knowledge  of  the  nearest  relations,  and 
of  an  educated  capacity  for  dealing  with  the  nearest  circumstances. 

This  wisdom,  which  reveals  itself  through  the  necessities  of  our  condition, 
strengthens  and  educates  our  practical  capacity ;  and  the  mental  training  which 
gives  it,  is  simple  and  steady,  consisting  of  the  action  of  all  the  powers  upon  the 
phenomena  of  nature  in  their  actual  relations ;  and  thus  it  is  related  to  truth. 

Power  and  feeling  and  practical  certainty  are  its  expressions. 

Elevating  path  of  nature,  the  truth  to  which  thou  leadest  is  power  and  action, 
origin,  training,  completion,  and  destination  of  the  whole  of  humanity. 

Thou  dost  educate  with  certainty;  not  to  a  rapid  show  of  growth;  and  the 
son  of  nature  is  confined  by  limits; — his  speech  is  the  expression  and  conse- 
quence of  full  knowledge  of  facts. 

The  disconnected  confusion  of  the  sciolist  is  as  little  the  basis  which  nature 
points  out. 

The  man  who  with  rapid  course  flits  about  every  subject  of  knowledge,  and 
does  not  fortify  bis  acquirements  by  silent  steady  investigation,  loses  the  power 
of  observing  cheerfully,  and  with  steady  search,  and  the  still  and  genuine  pleas- 
ure of  sensibility  to  truth. 

Unsteady  will  be  the  progress  of  that  man  who,  in  the  hurlyburly  of  his 
sciolisms,  finds,  to  be  sure,  material  for  many  words,  but  sacrifices  to  them  the 
quietness  of  real  wisdom.  Amidst  his  noisy  pride,  you  will  discover,  close 
around  him,  in  the  place  where  the  power  of  a  blessed  wisdom  would  beam 
brightly,  only  empty  solitudes  and  darkness. 

Also  the  slothful  empty  wastes  of  dark  ignorance  lead  away  from  the  path  of 
nature.  Lack  of  knowledge  of  thy  nature,  0  man,  contracts  the  limits  of  thy 
knowledge,  more  than  the  necessities  of  thy  being.  Misapprehension  of  the  first 
principles  of  thy  condition,  deadly  oppressive  tyranny,  withholding  of  all  the 
pleasures  of  truth  and  blessing;  unnatural  want  of  general  national  enlighten- 
ment in  relation  to  the  most  important  actual  needs  and  relations  of  men,  over- 
cloud and  darken  thee,  as  the  deep  shadow  of  night  darkens  the  earth. 

The  effect  of  actual  life  in  opposition  to  the  inner  consciousness  of  right,  un- 
dermines our  power  of  recognizing  truth,  and  perverts  the  purity  of  the  lofty 
and  noble  simplicity  of  our  fundamental  ideas  and  susceptibilities. 

Therefore,  all  human  wisdom  is  based  upon  the  strength,  of  a  good  heart,  and 
one  obedient  to  truth ;  and  all  human  blessings,  upon  its  simplicity  and  inno- 
cence. 

Education  of  humanity  hi  this  purity  of  simplicity  and  innocence,  thou  art 
the  guardian  of  humanity,  who  dost  protect  and  guide  rightly  the  undestroyed 
principles  of  the  heart,  in  the  course  of  their  mental  development. 

Man  must  be  trained  to  inward  peace.  Content  with  one's  condition,  and 
with  the  pleasures  attainable  in  it,  patience,  reverence  and  faith  in  the  love  of 
the  Father  under  all  restrictions,  that  is  the  right  training  to  wisdom. 


PESTALOZZI'S  EVENING  HOUR  OF  A  HERMIT.  707 

Without  inward  peace,  man  wanders  about  in  wild  ways.  Thirst  and  longing 
•after  impossible  forms,  deprive  him  of  every  pleasure  which  present  blessings 
•offer,  and  of  all  the  powers  of  a  wise,  patient,  and  obedient  spirit.  If  the  feel- 
ings are  not  regulated  by  inward  peace,  their  power  destroys  the  inward  strength 
-of  the  man,  and  plagues  him  with  dark  tortures,  in  days  during  which  the  cheer- 
ful wise  man  would  laugh. 

The  discontented  man  worries  himself  within  his  happy  home,  because  his 
dancing  at  the  festival,  his  violin  at  the  concert,  his  address  in  the  public  hall, 
were  not  distinguished. 

Peace,  and  quiet  pleasure,  are  the  first  purposes  of  human  education,  and  its 
•darling  children.  Man,  thy  knowledge  and  ambition  must  be  subordinate  to 
these  high  purposes,  or  thy  curiosity  and  ambition  will  become  gnawing  agonies 
and  curses. 

Man,  thou  livest  not  for  thyself  alone,  on  earth.  Nature  educates  thee  for 
relations  with  those  without  thee. 

In  proportion  as  these  relations  are  near  to  thee,  0  man,  are  they  important 
for  the  training  of  thy  being  for  its  ends. 

The  complete  mastery  over  a  near  relation,  is  a  source  of  wisdom  and  pow€r 
over  more  distant  ones. 

Fatherhood  trains  princes,  brotherhood,  citizens,  Both  produce  order  in  the 
family  and  in  the  state. 

The  domestic  relations  of  man  are  the  first  and  most  important  relations  of 
nature. 

Man  labors  in  his  calling,  and  endures  the  burden  of  a  citizen's  labor,  that 
thereby  he  may  enjoy  in  quiet,  the  pure  blessings  of  his  domestic  happiness. 

Therefore  the  education  of  man  for  his  professional  and  social  position,  must 
be  subordinated  to  the  ultimate  purpose,  the  pleasures  of  his  pure  domestic 
happiness. 

Therefore  art  thou,  home,  the  origin  of  all  the  purely  natural  education  of 
humanity. 

Home,  thou  school  of  morals  and  of  the  state. 

First,  man,  thou  art  a  child ;  afterward  an  apprentice  in  thy  calling. 

Childish  virtue  is  the  blessing  of  thy  days  of  learning ;  and  the  first  training 
of  thy  faculties  to  the  enjoyment  of  all  the  blessings  of  thy  life. 

Whoever  departs  from  this  natural  order,  and  forces  an  unnatural  education 
for  state,  vocation,  authority,  or  servitude,  turns  humanity  aside  from  the  enjoy- 
ment of  the  most  natural  blessings,  to  voyage  upon  a  rocky  sea. 

See  ye  not,  0  men,  feel  ye  not,  sons  of  earth,  how  your  upper  classes  have  lost 
their  inner  powers  by  their  education?  Seest  thou  not,  humanity,  how  their 
divergence  from  the  wise  order  of  nature,  brings  empty  and  barren  curses  upon 
them  and  from  them  downward  amongst  their  people?  Feelest  thou  not,  0 
Earth,  how  the  human  race  wanders  away  from  the  happiness  of  its  domestic 
relations,  and  everywhere  crowds  to  wild  glittering  shows,  to  make  game  of 
-wisdom  and  to  tickle  its  ambition  ? 

Erring  humanity  wanders  afar  off. 

God  is  the  nearest  resource  for  humanity. 

Even  thy  family,  0  man,  and  the  wisest  of  thy  pleasures,  will  not  last'  thee 
forever. 

To  suffer  pain  and  death  and  the  grave,  without  God,  thy  nature,  educated  to 
mildness,  goodness,  and  feeling,  has  no  power. 


728  PESTALozzrs  EVENING  HOUR  OF  A  HERMIT. 

In  God,  as  the  father  of  thy  house,  the  source  of  thy  blessings,  in  God  as  thy 
father : — in  this  belief  findest  thou  peace  and  power  and  wisdom  which  no  pain, 
nor  the  grave,  can  shake. 

Faith  in  God  is  a  tendency  of  human  feeling,  in  its  highest  condition ;  it  is- 
the  confiding  childlike  trust  of  humanity,  in  the  fatherhood  of  God. 

Faith  in  God  is  the  fountain  of  peace  in  life ;  peace  in  life  is  the  fountain  of 
inward  order;  inward  order  is  the  fountain  of  the  unerring  application  of  our 
powers ;  and  this  again  is  the  source  of  the  growth  of  those  powers,  and  of  their 
training  in  wisdom ;  wisdom  is  the  spring  of  all  human  blessings. 

Thus,  faith  in  God  is  the  source  of  all  wisdom  and  all  blessings,  and  is  nature's 
road  to  the  pure  education  of  man. 

Faith  in  God,  thou  art  buried  deep  in  the  being  of  man.  As  the  sense  of 
good  and  evil,  as  the  ineradicable  sense  of  right  and  wrong,  so  immovably  fast 
art  thou  lodged  in  our  inmost  nature,  as  a  foundation  for  human  development. 

Faith  in  God,  thou  art  the  portion  of  the  people  in  every  misery,  in  every 
clime.  Thou  art  the  power  of  men  in  every  exaltation,  and  their  strength  in 
every  adversity. 

Faith  in  God,  thou  art  not  a  sequel  and  result  of  educated  wisdom ;  thou  art 
a  pure  endowment  of  simplicity ;  the  hearkening  ear  of  innocence  to  the  voice^ 
of  nature,  whose  father  is  God. 

Childlikeness  and  obedience  are  not  the  result  and  invariable  consequence  of 
a  complete  education ;  they  must  be  the  primitive  and  spontaneous  first  princi- 
ples of  human  training. 

The  wonder  of  wise  men  in  the  depth  of  creation,  and  their  searches  into  the- 
abysses  of  the  creator,  are  not  an  education  to  this  faith.  In  the  abysses  of 
creation,  the  searcher  can  lose  himself,  and  in  its  waters  he  can  wander  ignorantly, 
far  away  from  the  fountains  of  the  bottomless  ocean. 

God,  father ;  God,  an  existence  within  the  dwellings  of  men ;  God,  within  my 
own  inmost  being ;  God,  the  giver  of  his  own  gifts  and  of  the  pleasures  of  my 
life ; — he  is  the  training  of  man  to  this  faith ;  this  is  the  power  of  nature,  who 
bases  all  faith  upon  pleasure  and  experience. 

Otherwise,  arouse  thyself,  0  man — I  call  upon  the  people — arouse,  0  man,  to 
the  lesson  of  preponderating  goodness.  Let  this  encourage  or  soothe  thee ;  that 
either  happiness  will  on  the  whole  preponderate.  When  the  flames  of  misery 
burn  ovSr  thy  head  and  destroy  thee,  will  this  dictum  of  wise  men  support  thee  ? 

But  when  thy  Father  strengthens  thee  inwardly,  makes  thy  days  cheerfuL 
lifts  thy  being  above  all  sorrows,  and  develops  within  thyself  an  overbalance  of 
blessed  enjoyments;  then  thou  enjoyest  the  education  of  nature  to  faith  in  God. 

The  bread  which  my  child  eats  from  my  hand  develops  its  child's  feelings ; 
not  its  wonder  at  my  night  watches  and  my  care  over  its  after  years.  Much 
judgment  upon  my  deeds  would  be  folly,  and  might  lead  its  heart  astray,  and 
away  from  me. 

Simplicity  and  innocence,  pure  human  feelings  of  thankfulness  and  love,  are- 
the  source  of  faith. 

On  the  pure  childlike  nature  of  men,  is  based  the  hope  of  everlasting  life; 
and  a  pure  human  faith  in  God  is  not  possible  for  it  without  this  hope. 

The  tread  of  a  tyrant  upon  his  brethren,  upon  the  children  of  his  God,  make? 
the  inmost  soul  of  humanity  to  shudder.  The  widows  and  orphans  of  the  ranka 
of  his  victims  wail,  tremble,  hunger,  believe,  and  die. 


PESTALOZZIS  EVENING  HOUR  OF  A  HERMIT.  ^29 

If  God  is  the  father  of  men,  then  the  day  of  their  death  is  not  the  day  of  the 
fulfillment  of  their  existence. 

If  there  is  any  perceptioa  of  truth  in  thee,  0  man,  speak.  Does  it  not  con- 
flict with  thine  inmost  convictions,  to  believe  that  God  is  the  father  of  men,  and. 
also  that  the  lives  of  these  wretches  are  completed  so  ? 

God  is  not  the  father  of  men,  or  else  death  is  not  the  completion  of  our  life. 

Man,  thy  inward  sense  is  a  sure  guide  to  truth  and  to  thy  duty ;  and  dost  thou. 
doubt,  when  this  sense  summons  thee  to  immortality? 

Believe  in  thyself,  0  man ;  believe  in  the  inward  intelligence  of  thine  own 
soul ;  thus  shalt  thou  believe  in  God  and  immortality. 

God  is  the  father  of  humanity ;  God's  children  are  immortal. 

Within  thine  inmost  being,  0  man,  lies  that  which  with  faith  and  reverence 
recognizes  truth,  innocence  and  simplicity. 

But  simplicity  and  innocence  are  not  possessed  by  all  men. 

To  many,  this  inward  consciousness  of  humanity  is  a  mere  dream ;  and  faith 
in  God  and  immortality,  based  upon  this  inner  consciousness,  a  contempt  and  a 
reproach. 

God,  who  within  my  being  dost  with  strength  and  power  teach  me  truth, 
wisdom,  holiness,  faith  and  immortality ;  God,  who  hearest  all  the  children  of 
God ; — God,  whom  all  the  good,  feeling,  pure  and  loving  among  men  understand 
all  alike ; — God,  shall  I  not  listen  to  the  lessons  within  my  inmost  nature,  which 
are  true  and  which  must  be  true  ?  Shall  I  not  believe  what  I  am  and  what  I  do  ? 

Faith  in  God  causes  a  separation  of  men  into  the  children  of  God  and  the 
children  of  the  world.  Faith  in  the  fatherhood  of  God  is  faith  in  immortality. 

God,  father  of  man ;  Man,  child  of  God ;  this  is  the  aim  of  faith. 

This  faith  in  God  is  a  tendency  of  man  in  his  relations  to  his  blessings. 

Parental  love  and  filial  love,  these  blessings  of  thy  house,  0  man,  are  results 
of  faith. 

Thy  rightful  enjoyments,  husband  and  father,  the  pleasant  submission  of  thy 
wife  and  the  deep  and  soul-elevating  gratitude  of  thy  children,  are  the  results 
of  thy  faith  in  God. 

Faith  in  my  own  father,  who  is  a  child  of  God,  is  a  training  for  my  faith  in 
God. 

My  faith  in  God  is  a  reinforcement  of  my  faith  in  God,  and  of  every  duty  of 
my  house. 

So,  0  elevating  nature,  thou  dost  bind  together,  in  thy  discipline,  my  duties 
and  my  pleasures ;  and  at  thy  hand  man  is  guided  from  pleasures  enjoyed  to 
new  duties. 

All  humanity,  prince  or  subject,  master  or  servant,  is  disciplined  for  the 
especial  duties  of  its  station  by  the  enjoyment  of  its  most  intimate  natural 
relations. 

The  prince  who  is  the  child  of  his  God,  is  the  child  of  his  father. 

The  prince  who  is  child  of  his  father,  is  father  of  his  people. 

The  subject  who  is  child  of  his  God,  is  child  of  his  father. 

The  subject  who  is  child  of  his  father,  is  child  of  his  prince. 

Station  of  prince,  representation  of  God,  father  of  the  nation.  Station  of 
subject,  child  of  the  prince,  are  each,  the  child  of  God.  How  soft  and  strong 
and  subtle  is  this  interweaving  of  the  natural  relations  of  humanity. 

0  numanity  in  thy  loftiness  1 


7,30  PESTALOZZI'S  EVENING  HOUR  OF  A  HERMIT. 

But  vain  is  the  sense  of  thy  worth,  to  a  degraded  people. 

I  scarcely  venture  to  name  thy  rank,  householder.  What  art  thou,  and  what 
•canst  thou  be  ?  An  ox  for  sale?  The  master  of  thy  house.  The  representa- 
tive of  the  prince,  within  thy  hut,  0  man  in  thy  degradation  I  0  Lord  and 
Father  of  all ! 

In  whatever  low  state,  the  servant  is  in  his  essence  like  his  master ;  and  is  by 
nature  entitled  to  the  satisfaction  of  his  necessities. 

For  the  raising  of  the  people  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  proper  blessings  of  their 
•existence,  are  the  high  the  fathers  of  the  low. 

And  all  the  people  depend,  for  the  enjoyment  of  their  domestic  happiness, 
upon  their  pure  childlike  confidence  in  the  paternal  feeling  of  their  lords ;  and 
upon  the  fulfillment  of  the  paternal  duties  of  their  lords,  for  the  education  and 
elevation  of  their  children  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  blessings  of  humanity. 

Is  this  expectation  of  men  a  dream  ?  Is  their  childlike  expectation  a  mere 
vision  in  their  sleep  and  weariness  of  their  degradation  ? 

Faith  in  God,  thou  art  the  strength  of  thefr  hope. 

Princes  who  believe  in  God,  and  understand  the  brotherhood  of  men,  find  in 
this  belief  a  stimulus  to  every  duty  of  their  station.  They  are  men  trained  by 
•divine  power  for  the  blessing  of  their  people. 

Princes  who  disbelieve  the  fatherhood  of  God  and  the  brotherhood  of  men, 
find  in  this  unbelief  the  sources  of  a  terrible  annihilation  of  their  recognition  of 
their  duties.  They  are  men  of  terror ;  and  their  power  works  destruction.  In 
the  recognition  of  the  supreme  paternal  authority  of  God,  princes  assume  to 
themselves  the  obedience  of  their  people  as  a  religious  duty. 

And  the  prince  who  does  not  found  his  own  rights  and  duties  upon  obedience 
to  God,  founds  his  throne  upon  the  mutable  sands  of  popular  belief  in  his  own 
power. 

Faith  in  God  is  in  this  view  the  bond  of  union  between  prince  and  subjects ; 
the  bond  of  the  intimate  connection  amongst  the  relations  of  men  for  happiness. 

Unbelief,  disbelief  in  the  brotherhood  and  fraternal  duties  of  man,  disrecogni- 
tion  and  contempt  of  the  paternal  rights  of  God,  obstinate  hardiness  in  the  mis- 
use of  power,  are  the  dissolution  of  all  the  pure  bonds  of  the  happy  relations  of 
humanity. 

The  clergy  are  the  announcers  of  the  fatherhood  of  God  and  of  the  brother- 
hood of  men ;  and  their  station  is  the  central  point  of  union  between  the  natural 
relations  of  men,  and  the  blessings  which  come  from  faith  in  God. 

Faith  in  God  is  the  source  of  all  the  pure  paternal  and  filial  feelings  of  men ; 
the  source  of  all  uprightness. 

Faith  in  God  without  paternal  or  filial  feeling,  is  a  mere  glittering  nonentity, 
without  power  for  blessing. 

The  haughty  administration  of  laws,  the  passing  of  sentences  according  to  the 
-ancient  blasphemies  which  have  grown  up  in  the  studies  of  the  law  and  the 
•courts,  is  a  mummery  in  imitation  of  justice,  and  no  blessing  to  the  people. 

Security  and  innocence,  those  sources  of  pure  virtue  among  the  people,  those 
consequences  of  wise  and  fatherly  justice,  are  consequences  of  faith. 

Hardy  and  outrageous  attacks  upon  innocence,  right  and  truth,  those  evi- 
dences of  the  absence  of  a  paternal  feeling  in  the  administration  of  the  laws  of 
a  country,  are  the  consequences  of  unbelief. 

Violence  and  impudent  bold  usurpation  contrary  to  right  and  innocence,  in 


PESTALOZZIS  EVENING  HOUR  OF  A  HERMIT.  73 j 

the  gpirit  of  a  nation,  are  sources  of  national  powerlessness ;  and  thus  unbelief 
is  a  source  of  such  powerlessness. 

And  on  the  other  hand,  fatherly  and  childlike  feelings  in  the  national  spirit, 
are  the  sources  of  all  pure  national  blessings. 

In  like  manner,  the  belief  in  God  among  the  people,  is  a  source  of  all  pure 
national  virtue,  all  popular  blessings,  and  all  national  power. 

Sin  is  the  source  and  consequence  of  unbelief.  It  is  the  action  of  men  con- 
trary to  the  inner  teachings  of  our  nature  as  to  right  and  wrong.  Sin,  the 
source  of  the  perversion  of  our  first  fundamental  ideas,  and  of  our  pure  natural 
feelings.  Sin,  the  destruction,  0  man,  of  thy  faith  in  thyself,  and  hi  thine  in- 
ward nature,  destruction  of  thy  faith  in  God,  of  thy  childlike  feelings  toward  him. 

Open  sin ;  defiance  of  God  by  man. 

Abhorrence  of  sin;  pure  feeling  of  the  childlike  relation  of  man  to  God,  ex- 
pression and  result  of  the  faith  of  humanity  in  the  revelation  of  God  within  its 
own  nature. 

Abhorrence  of  open  sin :  feelings  of  a  child  toward  a  man  who  insults  hia 
father  and  mother. 

National  abhorrence  of  a  people  against  public  shiners ;  pledge  and  seal  of 
national  faith,  and  of  the  childlike  feelings  of  the  people  toward  their  supreme 
liead. 

National  abhorrence  by  a  people  of  the  open  defiance  by  their  prince  of  God, 
is  a  sign  of  national  virtue,  and  of  the  weakening  of  the  faith  and  obedience  of 
the  people  toward  their  supreme  head. 

Unbelief;  source  of  the  destruction  of  all  the  inner  bonds  of  society. 

Unbelief  in  rulers ;  source  of  disobedience  in  subjects. 

Paternal  feeling  and  paternal  treatment  by  rulers  establishes  and  assures  the 
•obedience  of  subjects. 

Unbelief  destroys  the  source  of  obedience. 

Under  a  ruler  who  is  not  a  father,  the  tendency  of  the  people  can  not  be 
toward  the  understanding  of  a  popular  character,  pure  in  thought  and  happy  in 
•childlike  obedience. 

The  consequences  of  unbelief: — Daily  increasing  burdens,  daily  decreasing 
paternal  goodness,  arbitrary  exertion  of  power  for  no  good  purpose,  fantastic 
•and  unnatural  abuses  of  governmental  authority,  oppressive  intermediate  officers, 
•decrease  of  power  in  the  people  to  oppose  them,  are  among  the  inevitable  con- 
sequences of  a  government  without  faith ;  which  despises  the  rights  of  God  and 
of  humanity. 

The  perception  by  the  people  of  the  perversion  of  paternal  authority  is  the 
<iissolution  of  the  pure  bonds  of  nature  between  the  prince  and  his  people. 

Thou,  good  and  motherly  nature,  dost  knit  the  bands  of  social  relations 
through  the  blessings  of  mutual  happiness. 

And  it  is  the  popular  perception,  the  national  feeling  of  the  blessing  of  this 
happiness,  which  blesses  and  sanctifies  these  relations  through  the  gratitude, 
love  and  faith  of  the  people  toward  their  ruler.  Here  therefore  is  the  sacred 
source  of  all  patriotism  and  civic  virtue. 

I  am  touching  strings  unused,  and  not  accordant  with  fashionable  tones. 
Despise  the  sound,  dance-music,  trilling  calumnies,  and  drown  my  voice; 
ileaving  pure  humanity  and  truth  unnoticed. 

All  the  powers  of  humanity  only  accomplish  blessings  through  faith  in  God 


732  i-i-i  AI.O/./I  s  F.VKNING  HOUR  OF  A  HERMIT. 

and  the  paternal  character  of  princes,  the  only  sources  of  blessings  for  the  peo- 
pit-,  are  the  consequence  of  this  faith  in  God. 

Man,  how  low  thou  standest !  If  thy  prince  is  a  child  of  God,  his  authority 
is  paternal. 

Harsh  and  insolent  exercise  of  authority  is  not  paternal ;  is  not  a  sign  of  faith 
in  God.  It  is  the  destruction  of  the  highest  attributes  of  both  prince  and. 
country;  of  the  pure  childlike  feeling  of  the  people  toward  the  prince. 

I  can  not  apply  to  such  conduct, .  although  so  common  among  penetrating 
minds  in  the  service  of  princes,  the  name  of  high  treason. 

But  what  less  is  it,  when  they  interpret  the  paternal  authority  of  the  prince 
to  include  the  right  of  both  good  and  evil,  of  both  right  and  wrong? 

What  less  is  it,  when  in  the  prince's  name  they  destroy  the  happiness  of 
households,  rob  them  of  their  goods,  and  cover  innocence  with  infamy  and; 
shame? 

Bond  of  union  between  humanity  and  its  blessings,  belief  of  prince  and  peo- 
ple in  the  supreme  Lord  of  humanity,  faith  in  God,  thou  alone  protectest  man- 
kind from  such  perils. 

All  unbelief  is  arrogant ;  but  faith  in  God,  the  childlike  feeling  of  humanity 
toward  God,  gives  a  quiet  sublimity  to  every  exertion  of  its  powers. 

A  brilliant  and  flashing  creation  of  humanity,  is  that  hardy  laughing  courage 
at  danger  and  destruction,  which  is  a  human  power ;  but  it  is  unfavorable  to  a 
childlike  feeling  toward  God. 

Diligent  economical  use  of  every  gift,  aspiration  after  the  strengthening  of  the- 
faculties,  is  the  path  of  nature  to  the  development  and  strengthening  of  all  the 
powers ;  and  in  every  degradation  and  every  weakness  this  is  an  inclination  of 
the  pure  childlikeness  of  humanity  to  God. 

A  proneness  to  degrading  shadows,  impulse  to  make  sport  with  the  faculties- 
and  powers,  and  to  hide  its  weaknesses,  is  a  mark  of  the  lowest  and  weakest 
humanity,  turned  aside  from  the  natural  order  of  development. 

Outward  and  inward  human  nobleness,  cultivated  in  the  natural  method,  is- 
understanding  and  paternal  feelings  toward  a  lower  order  of  endowment. 

Man,  in  thy  elevation,  use  thy  powers  for  this  purpose. 

Paternal  exercise  of  high  endowments  toward  the  undeveloped  and  weak  flock, 
of  common  humanity. 

Pure  blessing  of  humanity,  thou  art  the  power  and  the  result  of  faith. 

0  my  cell,  pleasure  be  within  thee  1     Thou  also  art  a  consequence  of  this  faith. 

Hail,  myself  and  my  hut  1 

In  order  that  humanity  may  believe  in  God,  I  abide  in  this  hut. 

The  faith  of  the  people  in  the  true  ministers  of  God  is  the  source  of  the  peace- 
fulness  of  my  life. 

The  priests  of  God  are  the  representatives  of  the  pure  paternal  relation  of 
humanity. 

Thy  power  consecrated,  is  the  enlightenment  of  God. 

God's  enlightenment  is  love,  wisdom,  and  fatherhood. 

0  thou  who  wanderest  near  my  hut,  would  that  I  were  even  a  shadow  of  the 
power  of  my  God. 

0  Sun,  thou  picture  of  his  power,  thy  day  is  completed.  Thou  goest  down 
behind  my  mountain,  0  day  of  my  completion.  0  hope  of  the  coming  morning,. 
0  power  of  my  faith. 


PESTALOZZI'S  EVENING  HOUR  OF  A  HERMIT.  f3# 

I  base  all  freedom  upon  justice ;  but  I  see  no  certain  justice  in  this  world, 
«xcept  that  inspired  by  simplicity,  piety  and  love,  and  in  humanity  as  enlightened 
fey  this  inspiration. 

All  family  administration  of  justice,  which  is  the  greatest,  purest  and  moat 
generally  enjoyed  in  all  the  world,  has  as  a  whole  no  source  except  love ;  and 
yet,  in  the  simplicity  of  all  the  nations,  it  accomplishes  the  general  blessing  of 
the  world. 

As  all  justice  rests  upon  love,  so  does  freedom  upon  justice.  Pure  childlike- 
ness  is  the  real  source  of  freedom,  which  rests  upon  justice ;  and  pure  father- 
hood is  the  source  of  all  such  government  as  is  elevated  enough  to  do  justice, 
and  to  love  freedom. 

And  the  source  of  justice  and  of  all  worldly  blessings,  the  sources  of  the  love 
and  brotherhood  of  men,  these  rest  upon  the  great  idea  of  religion :  that  we  are 
the  children  of  God.  and  that  the  belief  in  this  truth  is  the  sure  foundation  of 
•all  human  happiness.  In  this  great  idea  of  religion  lies  the  spirit  of  all  true 
political  wisdom  which  seeks  the  real  happiness  of  the  people ;  "for  all  the  moral 
faculties,  all  enlightenment  and  human  wisdom,  rest  upon  the  same  basis  of  the 
faith  of  humanity  hi  God. 

Forgetfdlness  of  God,  neglect  of  the  filial  relation  of  humanity  to  God,  is  the 
source  of  the  destruction  of  all  the  power  of  morality,  enlightenment  and  wis- 
dom, for  the  blessing  of  humanity.  Therefore  is  this  loss  of  filial  feeling  toward 
God  the  greatest  of  human  misfortunes,  since  it  renders  all  God's  paternal  in- 
struction impossible ;  and  the  restoration  of  this  lost  filial  feeling  is  the  salvation 
of  the  lost  children  of  God  on  earth. 

The  man  of  God  who  through  the  sorrows  and  death  of  humanity  re-estab- 
lishes this  universally  lost  filial  feeling  toward  God,  is  the  saviour  of  the  world, 
the  sacrificed  priest  of  God,  the  mediator  between  God  and  God-forgetting 
humanity.  His  teachings  are  pure  justice,  an  instructive  philosophy  for  all  peo- 
ple ;  the  revelation  of  God  the  Father  to  the  lost  race  of  his  children. 


-'V.. 


.11 


THE  MOTHER  AND  EARLY  EDUCATION. 

IPestalozzi's    Letters    to    Greaves.—  Extracts. 


INTRODUCTION. 

The  Letters,  from  which  the  following  extracts  are  made,  were  ad- 
dressed by  Pestalozzi,  in  the  German  language,  to  James  P.  Greaves  of 
Merton,  England,  bearing  date:  the  first,  October  1,  1818,  and  the  last. 
May  12,  1819,  during  which  period,  and  for  three  years  afterwards, 
Mr.  Greaves  resided  at  Yverdun,  for  the  purpose  of  mastering  the  prin- 
ciples and  methods  of  the  great  apostle  to  popular  education,  with  a 
view,  on  his  return  to  England,  of  trying  to  secure  their  recognition  in 
Infant  Schools,  and  early  education  generally : 

Child  Culture  by  Matters. 

I  am  happy  to  see  that  you  acknowledge  the  importance  of  education 
in  the  earlier  stages  of  life  —  the  period  before  the  admission  to  school 
life.  I  can  assure  you  from  the  experience  of  more  than  half  a  century, 
and  from  the  deepest  conviction  of  my  heart,  that  our  task  for  the  im- 
provement of  schools  will  not  be  more  than  half  accomplished,  and  the 
benefit  to  mankind  which  we  anticipate  from  these  improvements  will 
not  be  realized  so  long  as  our  improvements  do  not  extend  to  the  period 
of  infancy,  through  the  medium  of  maternal  love.  To  mothers  we  must 
appeal;  with  them  we  must  pray  for  the  blessing  of  heaven;  in  them  try 
to  awaken  a  deep  sense  of  all  the  consequences  and  all  the  rewards  of 
their  interesting  duties.  Let  each  take  an  active  part  in  the  most  im- 
portant sphere  of  influence.  Such  is  the  aspiration  of  an  old  man  who 
is  anxious  to  secure  whatever  good  he  may  have  been  allowed  to  conceive 
or  present.  Happy  should  I  be  to  speak  through  your  voice  to  the  moth- 
ers of  Great  Britain. — Letter  I. 

Qualifications  Demanded. 

Has  the  mother  the  qualifications  requisite  for  the  development  of  the 
infant  mind?  Yes!  The  mother  is  qualified  by  her  Creator  to  become 
the  principal  agent  in  this  development  by  the  endowment  of  a  maternal 
love,  the  most  gentle  and  the  most  intrepid  power  in  the  whole  system 
of  Nature.  But  this  love  must  be  a  thinking  love.  Her  duties  are  both 
easy  and  difficult.  Their  performance  do  not  demand  so  much  knowl- 
edge, the  knowledge  gained  in  what  is  called  a  finished  education,  but 
calm  reflection  on  the  nature  of  her  duties,  a  desire  to  educate  her  chil- 
dren for  God  and  eternity,  by  improving  the  means  that  lie  right  about 
her  in  her  own  home.  Happy  mother!  thy  calling  is  most  sacred  and 
may  be  most  influential.  Talk  not  of  deficiencies  in  thy  knowledge,  — 
love  shall  supply  them ;  of  limitations  in  thy  means,  —  Providence  shall 
47 


PESTALOZZFS  LETTERS  TO  GREAVES. 

enlarge  them;  of  weakneoo  in  thy  e..  ^gics,  —the  Spirit  of  Power  him- 
self shall  strengthen  them.  Look  t.  Miat  Spirit  for  all  that  thou  dost 
want,  and  especially  for  those  two  gran  pre-eminent  requisites,  courage 
and  humility.  —  Letter  II. 

Unity  of  Development. 

A  child  is  a  being  endowed  with  all  the  faculties  of  human  nature,  but 
none  of  them  developed,  — a  bud  not  yet  opened.  When  the  bud  uncloses 
every  one  of  the  leaves  unfolds,  not  one  remains  behind.  Such  must  be 
the  process  of  Education. 

No  one  faculty  in  the  human  child  must  be  treated  with  the  exclusive 
-or  the  same  attention ;  for  their  co-agency  alone  can  ensure  a  successful  de- 
velopment of  the  whole  being1. 

But  how  shall  the  mother  learn  to  distinguish  and  to  direct  each  fac- 
ulty, before  it  appears  in  a  state  of  development  sufficient  to  evidence  its 
own  existence?  Not  indeed  from  books,  but  from  actual  observation. 

Play  and  Playthings. 

The  first  exertions  of  the  child,  attended  with  some  pain,  have  yet 
enough  of  pleasure  to  induce  a  repetition  gradually  increasing  in  fre- 
quency and  power;  and  when  their  first  efforts,  blind  efforts  as  it  weiv, 
are  once  over,  the  little  hand  begins  to  play  its  more  perfect  part.  From 
the  first  movement  of  this  hand,  from  the  first  grasp  which  avails  itself 
of  a  plaything,  how  infinite  is  the  series  of  actions  of  which  it  will  be 
the  instrument!  Not  only  employing  itself  with  everything  connected 
with  the  habits  and  comforts  of  life,  but  astonishing  the  world  perhaps, 
with  some  masterpiece  of  art,  or  seizing,  ere  they  escape,  the  fleeting  in- 
spirations of  genius,  and  handing  them  down  to  the  admiration  of  pos- 
terity. The  first  exertion  of  this  little  hand,  then,  opens  an  immense 
field  to  a  faculty  which  now  begins  to  manifest  itself. 

In  the  next  place,  the  attention  of  the  child  is  now  visibly  excited,  and 
fixed  by  a  great  variety  of  external  impressions;  the  eye  or  the  ear  are 
attracted  whenever  a  lively  color,  or  a  rousing,  animating  sound  may 
strike  them,  and  they  turn  as  if  to  enquire  the  cause  of  that  sudden  im- 
pression. Very  soon  the  features  of  the  child  and  its  redoubled  atten- 
tion, will  betray  the  pleasure  with  which  the  senses  are  affected,  by  the 
brilliant  colors  of  a  flower  or  the  pleasing  sounds  of  music.  Apparently 
the  first  traces  are  now  making  of  that  mental  activity  which  will  hereaf- 
ter employ  itself  in  numberless  observations,  and  combinations  of  events, 
or  in  the  search  of  their  hidden  causes,  and  which  will  be  accessible  to 
all  the  pleasing  or  painful  sensations  which  life,  in  its  various  shapes, 
may  excite. 

Every  mother  will  recollect  the  delight  of  her  feelings  on  the  first 
tokens  of  her  infant's  consciousness  and  rationality;  indeed,  maternal 
love  knows  not  a  higher  joy  than  that  arising  from  those  interesting  in- 
dications. Trifling  to  another,  to  her  they  are  of  infinite  value.  To  her 
they  reveal  an  eventful  future;  they  tell  the  important  story,  that  a  spirit- 
ual being  dearer  to  her  than  life  is  opening,  as  it  were,  the  eye  of  intelli- 
gence, and  saying,  in  its  silent,  but  tender  and  expressive  language,  "I 
.am  born  for  immortality."  —  Letter  III. 


PESTALOZZI-S\VA.\   M>N<J.  73? 

Every  one-sided  development  of  our  powers  is  untrue  and  unnatural; 
it  is  only  apparent  cultivation,  the  sounding  brass  and  tinkling  cymbal  of 
human  culture,  and  not  human  culture  itself. 

True  education,  that  which  is  in  conformity  with  nature,  leads  by  its 
nature  to  the  struggle  for  the  perfection  and  completness  of  the  human 
powers.  But  a  one-sided  education  leads,  by  its  nature,  to  the  undermin- 
ing, disunion,  and  final  extinction  of  the  unity  of  the  powers  of  human 
nature,  from  which  alone,  the  struggle  for  perfection  can  truly  and 
naturally  proceed.  The  unity  of  the  powers  of  our  nature  has  been 
divinely  given  to  our  race,  as  the  true  foundation  of  all  human  methods 
for  our  improvement;  and,  in  this  respect  also,  it  is  always  true:  "That 
which  God  has  joined  together,  let  not  man  put  asunder."  If  this  be 
disobeyed,  in  education,  imperfect,  unhealthly  manhood  is  the  result. 

Every  one-sided  tendency  in  the  development  of  our  powers  leads  to 
the  groundless  pretensions  of  self-delusions,  to  a  faulty  knowledge  of  our 
needs  and  weaknesses,  and  to  severe  judgment  of  all  those  who  do  not 
coincide  with  the  erroneous  views  of  our  perverted  education.  This  is 
equally  true  of  those  who  err  through  the  one-sided  development  of  the 
heart,  and  of  the  mind.  The  preponderance  of  any  one  power  leads  to 
the  inflation  of  its  claims.  This  is  as  true  of  our  power  of  love  and 
belief,  as  it  is  of  our  power  of  thought  and  of  skill ;  and  it  is  equally 
true  of  our  vocations.  The  essential  basis  of  all  civil  and  domestic  bless- 
ings is  life  and  spirit;  without  this  basis  that  external  skill  the  cultivation 
of  which  is  demanded  by  civil  and  domestic  life  are  a  means  of  delusion, 
the  source  of  civil  and  domestic  discontent,  and  of  consequent  irregulari- 
ties and  misfortunes. 

The  equipoise  of  the  powers,  which  the  idea  of  elementary  education 
so  essentially  demands,  is  based  upon  the  natural  development  of  each 
one  of  the  fundamental  powers  of  our  nature.  Each  one  of  these  un- 
folds itself  in  accordance  with  everlasting,  unchangeable  laws,  and  its 
development  is  only  natural,  so  far  as  it  accords  with  these  immutable 
laws  of  our  nature.  In  every  case,  and  in  every  respect  in  which  the 
development  is  opposed  to  these  laws,  it  is  opposed  to  nature.  The  laws 
which  underlie  the  natural  development  of  each  one  of  our  powers, 
differ  essentially.  The  human  mind  is  not  cultivated  in  accordance  with 
the  laws  by  which  the  human  heart  is  raised  to  its  loftiest  capacity;  and 
the  laws  in  accordance  with  which  our  senses  and  limbs  are  cultivated, 
differ  as  essentially  from  those  which  are  proper  for  the  cultivation  of 
the  powers  of  heart  and  mind. 

But  each  one  of  these  powers  can  be  developed  in  conformity  with 
nature,  only  by  the  single  method  of  its  own  activity. 

Man  develops  love  and  faith,  the  basis  of  his  moral  life,  naturally,  only 
through  acts  of  love  and  faith. 

In  the  same  way  man  develops  thought,  the  basis  of  his  mental 
powers,  naturally,  only  through  the  act  of  thinking  itself. 

And  man's  senses,  organs,  and  limbs,  which  are  the  basis  of  his  strength, 
;are  all  naturally  developed  only  by  their  use. 


738  PESTALOZZI  —  SWAN  SONG. 

And  by  the  very  nature  itself  of  each  one  of  these  powers,  man  is 
compelled  to  use  them.  The  eye  will  see,  the  ear  will  hear,  the  foot  will 
walk,  and  the  hand  will  grasp.  So  will  the  heart  love  and  believe.  The 
mind  will  think.  There  is  an  instinct  in  every  capacity  of  human  nature, 
which  compels  its  development  from  lifeless  inactivity  into  a  developed 
power.  This,  when  undeveloped,  was  only  the  germ  of  the  power;  and 
not  the  power  itself. 

But,  when  a  child  falls  on  first  attempting  to  walk,  the  desire  to  walk 
is  instantly  lessened  ;  and  the  desire  to  believe  is  lessened  when  the  cat 
towards  which  it  stretches  out  its  hand  scratches  it,  or  the  dog  which  it. 
calls  barks,  and  shows  his  teeth.  On  the  other  hand  the  child's  desire  to- 
develop  its  power  of  thought,  through  the  use  of  thought,  is  necessarily 
lessened  when  the  methods  by  which  it  is  taught  to  think  do  not  address 
its  power  of  thought  attractively,  but,  on  the  contrary,  oppress  it,  and 
serve  to  stupefy  and  confuse  rather  than  to  awaken. 

The  course  of  nature,  when  left  to  herself  in  the  development  of  the 
human  powers,  proceeds  slowly,  from  the  animal  part  of  our  nature,  and 
is  also  hindered  by  it.  If  nature  is  to  be  aided  in  developing  what  is 
human  in  man,  then,  on  the  one  hand  the  assistance  of  an  enlightened 
love  is  presupposed,  the  germ  of  which  lies  as  an  instinct  in  the  parental 
and  brotherly  feelings  of  our  race;  and  on  the  other  hand,  the  enlightened 
use  of  the  art  which  humanity  has  won  by  centuries  of  experience. 

Elementary  education  then,  more  closely  defined,  is  nothing  else  than 
the  result  of  the  efforts  of  man  to  assist  Nature  in  the  development  of  ita 
natural  endowments  by  cultivated  reason  and  enlightened  love  and  art. 

Divine  as  is  the  method  of  Nature  in  this  development,  when  left  to 
itself  it  is  only  the  animal  instinct.  It  is  the  end  of  elementary  educa- 
tion, the  aim  of  piety  and  wisdom,  to  make  this  instinct  human  and 
divine.  Let  us  consider  this  more  closely  in  its  moral,  mental,  domestic 
and  civil  relations. 

I.  How  are  love  and  faith,  the  basis  of  our  moral  life,  naturally 
developed?  And  how  are  these  elementary  germs  nourished  and  strength- 
ened in  the  child  by  human  skill  and  care,  so  that  loftiest  results  in  char- 
acter and  conduct  are  made  possible?  We  shall  find  that  these  germs 
spring  into  life  through  the  quiet  and  assured  enjoyment  of  the  physical 
necessities  of  the  child ;  that  is,  the  child  instinctively  notices  the  instant 
gratification  of  all  its  physical  wants,  and  so  learns  to  recognize,  and 
finally  to  love  and  trust  their  source.  The  elementary  principles  of 
morality  and  religion  are  developed  from  the  quickening  of  these  germs 
of  love  and  trust.  In  the  awakening  of  these  dormant  principles  which 
distinguish  man  from  all  other  creatures,  the  maintenance  of  quiet  and 
contentment  are  of  the  utmost  importance.  Every  influence  which  at 
this  time  disturbs  the  plant-like  life  of  the  child,  stimulates  and  strength- 
ens the  claims  of  its  sensuous  nature,  and  weakens  the  natural  develop- 
ment of  its  higher  powers.  The  first  and  most  loving  guardian  of  the 
child's  tranquillity  is  the  mother.  Where  maternal  care  is  lacking, 
domestic  life  loses  its  best  and  purest  educational  influence.  We  can- 
not imagine  the  one  without  the  other;  the  two  go  hand  in  hand. 


PESTALOZZI  —  SWAN  SONG.  739 

For  this  development  of  character  tranquillity  is  indispensable,  and 
without  it  love  loses  all  power  of  truth  and  blessing.  Uneasiness  is  the 
offspring  of  physical  suffering  or  desire,  and  always  leads  to  a  lack  of 
love  and  to  unbelief.  Maternal  care  is  necessary  at  this  point  to  ward 
off  all  physical  causes  of  restlessness.  These  arise  from  two  sources,  the 
neglect  of  real  physical  needs  and  the  excess  of  useless  physical  pleas- 
ures, which  only  induce  selfishness.  The  prudent  and  intelligent  mother 
lives  in  the  service  of  her  child's  love,  but  not  of  its  caprice. 

The  solicitude  which  conforms  to  nature  in  promoting  the  child's  tran- 
quillity, does  not  stimulate  but  only  satisfies  its  sensuous  needs;  so  mater- 
nal care,  though  instinctive,  is  in  harmony  with  the  claims  of  the  heart 
and  mind.  It  rests  on  moral  and  intellectual  grounds,  and  as  it  is  only 
animated  by  instinct  and  is  not  the  result  of  the  subjection  of  the  higher 
to  the  lower  powers,  it  is  a  true  cooperation  of  instinct  with  the  purposes 
of  the  heart  and  mind. 

In  this  way  maternal  care  develops  the  first  signs  of  love  and  belief  in 
the  infant,  and  prepares  the  way  for  the  influence  of  the  father,  brothers, 
and  sisters.  The  infant's  animal  love  for  and  belief  in  the  mother  are 
thus  gradually  elevated  to  a  human  love  and  belief.  The  child's  circle 
of  love  and  faith  extends  continually,  and  it  loves  and  trusts  those  who 
are  loved  and  trusted  by  its  mother.  From  this  human  faith  there  is  but 
a  single  step  to  the  true  and  pure  feelings  of  the  Christian  faith.  Ele- 
mentary education  should  found  the  development  of  the  moral  and  relig- 
ious life  of  the  child  on  this  method. 

II.  How  is  man's  intellectual  life  developed?  How  are  his  powers  of 
thought,  reflection,  and  judgment  naturally  unfolded?  We  shall  find 
that  our  power  of  thought  is  developed  from  the  impressions  which  the 
perceptions  make  upon  us.  These  impressions  excite  and  animate  in 
the  mind  its  inherent  principle  of  self-development.  Perception  leads, 
first  to  a  consciousness  of  the  impressions,  and  second  to  a  sense-knowl- 
edge of  the  objects  perceived.  With  perception  comes  the  necessity  for 
expression,  and  naturally  the  first  attempts  of  the  child  are  imitative,  but 
the  greatest  need  is  that  of  human  speech.  Speech,  which  is  an  exten- 
sion of  the  power  of  thought,  is  the  servant  of  humanity,  by  which  knowl- 
edge gained  by  perception  is  made  available  and  communicable. 

If  the  cognition  is  superficial  or  incorrect,  it  will  be  expressed  in  the 
same  way.  The  natural  method  of  acquiring  the  mother  tongue,  or  of 
any  other  language,  is  closely  connected  with  the  knowledge  gained  by 
perception,  and  the  method  of  learning  any  language  must  accord  with 
that  of  nature.  In  learning  the  mother  tongue,  this  power  like  every 
other  that  is  distinctively  human  develops  from  the  animal  nature,  and 
quite  slowly  at  first  both  in  respect  to  the  vocal  organs  and  the  command 
of  words.  The  child  cannot  speak  with  undeveloped  organs,  and  at  first 
it  has  little  desire  to  speak  for  it  knows  almost  nothing.  The  desire  and 
the  power  to  speak  develop  in  proportion  to  the  gradual  acquisition  of 
cognitions  through  perception.  Nature  recognizes  no  other  way  of  teach- 
ing the  child  to  speak,  and  art  to  assist  must  take  the  same  slow  method, 
and  must  profit  by  all  surrounding  and  available  attractions.  The 


740  PESTALOZZI  — SWAN  SONG. 

mother  must  allow  the  charms  of  seeing,  hearing,  feeling,  and  tasting  to 
have  full  play  on  the  child.  These  sense-impressions  will  awaken  the 
desire  to  give  them  expression,  that  is,  to  speak.  The  mother  must  con- 
tinually vary  her  tones,  speaking  now  loudly,  now  softly,  sometimes 
singing,  and  sometimes  laughing,  so  as  to  awaken  the  desire  to  imitate. 
The  sense  of  sight  must  also  be  enlisted  by  exhibiting  different  objects 
and  associating  the  impressions  with  fitting  words.  Each  object  should 
be  presented  in  the  greatest  possible  variety  of  relations  and  positions, 
and  care  should  be  taken  that  each  impression,  matured  in  the  child's 
mind  through  perception,  is  properly  expressed.  Art,  that  is,  enlightened 
maternal  care  and  love,  can  greatly  relieve  the  tedium  of  Nature's 
methods  in  teaching  the  child  to  speak,  and  education  must  investigate 
the  means,  and  present  an  orderly  succession  of  exercises  adapted  to 
that  end.  The  mother's  heart,  duly  enlightened,  will  be  found  ready  to 
apply  these  means  with  loving  solicitude. 

Mental  development  in  its  natural  course  first  seeks  help  from  art  in 
the  acquisition  of  speech.  But  this  is  not  enough.  It  demands  from  art 
facilities  for  developing  the  power  of  combining,  analyzing,  and  com- 
paring all  objects  apprehended  through  perception  and  held  clearly  in 
charge  by  consciousness;  that  by  these  means,  this  capacity  for  appre- 
hending and  judging  correctly  may  gradually  develop  into  true  intellect- 
ual power.  Mental  development  and  the  culture  of  our  race  which 
depend  upon  it,  demand  the  continual  improvement  of  educational 
methods.  In  their  nature  and  scope  these  methods  proceed  from  our 
inherent  ability  to  unite  those  objects  which  have  passes  from  perception 
into  knowledge,  to  separate  and  compare  them  and  by  this  means  to 
acquire  the  power  of  judgment.  To  expand  our  powers  of  thought  into 
judgment,  and  elaborating  it  into  universal  usefulness,  is  the  important 
end  of  elemental  v  education;  and  as  the  capacity  of  applying  our  knowl- 
edge is  evidently  first  stimulated  by  counting  and  measuring,  it  is  c  1<  ar 
that  the  desired  end  must  be  sought  in  the  simplifying  and  improving 
the  methods  of  teaching  number  and  form. 

III.  When  in  the  third  place  we  ask-  What  are  those  principles,  and 
how  applied,  from  which  proceed  the  culture  of  the  human  mind  and 
heart  so  necessary  to  civil  and  domestic  life?  we  see  that  these  principles 
are  both  psychical  and  physical.  We  also  see  that  the  true  nature  of  these 
principles  consists  in  the  cultivation  of  our  powers  of  reflection  and  judg- 
ment though  the  careful  exercise  of  our  perceptive  faculties,  and  that  the 
most  important  of  these  exercises  relative  to  number  and  form.  Whoever 
has  trained  his  mental  faculties  in  accordance  with  these  principles,  and 
is  skillful  both  with  head  and  hand,  has  within  himself  the  foundation 
•of  all  art,  and  needs  only  to  extend  his  power  in  order  to  become  pro- 
ficient in  any  particular  branch.  This  attainment  of  manual  dexterity  is 
the  means  to  the  physical  development  of  art  power,  and  bears  the  same 
relation  to  it  as  number  and  form  do  to  mental  development. 

[These  extracts  from  the  last  printed  utterances  of  Pestalozzi, 
:as  to  the  true  aims  and  methods  of  elementary  human  culture,  are 
in  perfect  accord  with  the  Meditations  of  the  Recluse  (Evening 
Hour  of  a  Hermit)  printed  fifty  years  before.] 


PESTALOZZI  —  THE  MOTHER  AND   PIETY.  741 

"How  does  the  idea  of  the  Divine  Being,  of  God  the  Father  arise  in 
my  soul  ?  How  can  the  child  be  taught  to  love,  to  trust,  to  thank,  and 
obey  Him  ? "  Simply  by  learning  to  love,  to  trust,  to  thank,  and  obey 
first  the  mother  and  the  father,  and  others  in  the  family  —  "for  he  that 
loveth  not  his  brother  whom  he  hath  seen,  how  can  he  love  God,  whom 
he  hath  not  seen  ? "  These  virtues  of  love,  confidence,  gratitude,  and 
obedience  originate  and  must  be  cherished  in  the  natural  relations  of 
mother  and  child  and  in  family  life  rightly  conducted. 

The  mother  is  impelled,  as  it  were,  by  instinct,  to  nurse  and  foster  her 
child,  to  afford  him  shelter  and  happiness.  She  satisfies  all  his  wants, 
she  removes  from  him  all  that  is  unpleasant  to  him,  she  assists  his  help- 
lessness —  the  child  is  provided  for  and  made  happy ;  the  seed  of  love  begins 
to  be  unfolded. 

A  new  object  strikes  his  senses;  he  is  astonished,  afraid  —  he  cries;  the 
mother  presses  him  more  fondly  to  her  bosom ;  she  plays  with  him,  amuses 
him ;  he  ceases  from  crying,  but  the  tears  remain  in  his  eyes.  The  object 
reappears,  the  mother  again  throws  around  him  her  protecting  arms,  and 
comforts  him  with  a  sinile  —  he  cries  no  longer;  his  bright,  unclouded 
little  eye  answers  the  mother's  smile ;  the  seed  of  confidence  lias  taken  root 
in  his  soul. 

The  mother  runs  to  his  cradle  whenever  he  has  any  want ;  she  is  there 
in  the  hour  of  hunger;  at  her  breast  his  cravings  are  hushed;  when  he 
hears  her  step  approaching  his  winnings  cease;  when  he  sees  her  he 
stretches  out  his  little  arms;  while  hanging  at  her  bosom  his  eye  beams 
with  satisfaction ;  mother  and  satisfaction  are  to  him  but  one  idea  —  it  is 
that  of  Gratitude. 

The  germs  of  love,  confidence,  and  gratitude  grow  rapidly.  His  ear 
listens  to  the  mother's  footstep ;  his  eye  follows  her  shadow  with  a  smile ; 
he  loves  whoever  resembles  her;  a  being  who  resembles  his  mother  is,  in 
his  idea,  a  kind  being.  He  beholds  the  form  of  his  mother  —  the  human 
form  —  with  delight;  whoever  is  dear  to  his  mother  is  dear  to  him;  he 
embraces  whomever  she  embraces,  kisses  whomever  she  kisses.  Tlie  love 
of  mankind,  brotherly  love,  springs  up  in  his  heart. 

The  practice  of  obedience,  which  is  at  first  opposed  by  the  tendencies 
of  the  child's  sensual  nature,  is  more  especially  the  result  of  education, 
and  not  of  instinct.  Nevertheless,  its  first  development  is  in  a  manner 
instinctive.  Love  is  preceded  by  want,  gratitude  by  satisfaction,  confi- 
dence by  apprehension,  and  obedience  by  violent  desire.  The  child  cries 
impatiently  before  he  waits  patiently,  ratience  goes  before  obedience,  of 
which  it  is  the  basis.  The  first  steps  in  the  acquirement  of  that  virtue 
are  merely  passive;  they  are  founded  upon  the  feeling  of  necessity. 

Nature  opposes  the  storming  child  by  unbending  necessity.  The  child 
knocks  against  wood  and  stone;  nature  remains  unbending,  and  the  child 
ceases  to  knock  against  wood  and  stone.  The  mother  begins  in  the  same 
manner  to  oppose  the  turbulence  of  his  desires.  He  raves  and  kicks  — 
she  remains  inexorable;  he  ceases  to  cry  and  accustoms  himself  to  subject 
his  will  to  her's  —  and  the  seeds  of  patience  and  obedience  are  unfolding 
themselves  in  his  heart. 

By  the  united  action  of  love,  gratitude,  confidence,  and  obedience,  the 
conscience  is  awakened, —  first,  the  shade  of  a  feeling  that  it  is  wrong  to 
rave  against  a  loving  mother, —  that  the  mother  is  not  in  the  world  for  his 
sake  only;  this  leads  to  the  feeling  that  other  beings  and  things,  nay,  he 
himself,  are  not  made  for  him  only;  and  here  are  the  first  germs  of  duty 

These  are  the  fundamental  features  of  moral  development,  arising  from 
the  relation  in  which  nature  has  placed  the  child  to  its  mother;  and  in 
them  is  the  root  of  that  disposition  of  the  soul  by  which  man  is  drawn  to 
his  Maker, —  that  is  to  say,  our  feelings  of  union  to  God  through  faith 
spring  essentially  from  the  same  root  as  those  from  which  the  infant's  at- 
tachment to  its  mother  springs.  The  development  of  these  feelings,  like- 
wise, follows  the  same  progress  with  reference  to  both. 


i»ESTALOZZI'S   HUNDREDTH   BIRTHDAY. 


LET  a  graduate  of  any  good  public  school  imagine  a  system  of  schools 
permitting  indeed,  though  after  a  most  laborious  and  imperfect  fashion, 
for  the  wealthy  and  noble,  large  acquirements  ;  but,  for  all  those  likely 
to  attend  what  answer  to  our  common  or  public  schools,  teaching  only 
reading,  and  that  alone,  or  at  most  with  church  singing,  and  memoriz- 
ing of  texts  and  hymns ;  reading  all  day,  by  one  pupil  at  a  time,  from 
the  droning  A,  B,  C,  up  to  whatever  rhetoric  was  highest  in  grade ;  in 
that  even  shrill  yell  which  was  the  elocutionary  rule  fifty  years  ago, 
without  any  possible  regard  to  the  meaning  of  what  was  read,  or 
indeed  of  what  was  committed  to  memory ;  no  arithmetic,  no  geogra- 
phy, no  grammar,  no  writing,  even.  Let  him  imagine  this  single  study 
taught  in  dens  almost  like  prisons ;  by  men  absolutely  ferocious  in  man 
uers  and  feelings :  who  whipped  a  single  scholar — as  Martin  Luther' 
master  did  him — fifteen  times  in  one  forenoon;  who  feruled,  caneq 
boxed,  slapped,  rapped,  and  punched,  right  and  left ;  made  children  knee 
on  peas  and  sharp  edges  of  wood ;  in  short,  ransacked  their  own  dull 
brains  for  ingenious  tortures,  and  a  language  twice  as  copious  as  Eng- 
lish, besides  Latin  and  Greek,  for  nicknames  and  reproaches,  to  inflict 
upon  the  youth  of  their  charge  ;  schools  to  which  parents  threatened  to 
send  contumacious  children,  as  if  to  the  {:  Black  Man."  or  any  other 
hideous,  unknown  torment;  schools  almost  precisely  as  destitute  of  any 
kindly  feeling,  of  any  humanizing  tendency,  of  any  moral  or  religious 
influence,  as  any  old-fashioned  Newgate  or  Bridewell.  Let  our  gradu- 
ate imagine,  if  he  can,  all  this.  Then  let  him  further  imagine  a  stale 
of  society  stiffened,  by  ages  of  social  fixity,  into  immovable  grades,  and 
where  ;' the  lower  classes"  were  to  be  permitted  this,  reckoned  their 
appropriate  education,  but  no  more.  Let  him  still  further  imagine  great 
and  far-reaching  political,  social,  and  intellectual  disturbances,  working 
in  powerful  conjunction,  upsetting  all  manner  of  laws,  systems,  distinc- 
tions, and  doctrines,  preparing  all  minds  to  hope  for.  and  to  admit,  better 
beliefs,  and  better  opportunities,  for  themselves  and  for  others.  And 
lastly,  let  him  imagine  a  man  possessed  of  the  vastest  capacity  for  la- 
bor, a  mind  fruitful  of  expedients  and  experiments  to  the  very  highest 
degree,  and  no  less  clear  and  firm  in  finding  and  adhering  to  funda- 
mental generalizations,  an  absolutely  unbounded  and  tireless  benevo- 
lence, a  love  for  humanity  and  a  faith  in  his  principles  little  less  perfect 
and  self-sustaining  than  that  of  an  apostle ;  who  steps  forth  just  in  thaf 
period  of  intense  receptive  mental  activity,  and  in  the  place  of  that  di- 
abolical ancient  school  system,  proceeds  not  only  to  propose,  but  to 
demonstrate,  and  in  spite  of  sufferings,  obstacles,  and  failures  enough  to 


PESTALOZZ1S  HUNDREDTH  BIRTHDAY.  743 

have  discouraged  an  army  of  martyrs,  effectually  to  establish  a  system 
which  not  only,  in  the  words  of  its  official  investigators  in  1802,  was 
';  that  true  elementary  method  which  has  long  been  desired,  but  hith- 
erto vainly  sought ;  which  prepares  the  child  for  every  situation,  for 
all  arts  and  sciences ;  which  is  appropriate  to  all  classes  and  condi 
tions,  and  is  the  first  indispensable  foundation  for  human  cultivation ; 
which  not  only  was  thus  intellectually  the  absolute  ideal  of  education, 
but  whose  very  atmosphere  was  one  of  kindness  and  encouragement, 
whose  perfection  was  to  depend  upon  its  identity  with  the  affectionate 
•discipline  of  a  mother ;  which  expressly  included,  and  even  preferred, 
the  poor,  the  orphan,  and  the  helpless ;  and  which,  last  and  best  of  all, 
was  fundamentally  inwrought  with  such  hygienic,  ethical,  and  relig- 
ious principles  that  its  legitimate  result  would  be  to  make  a  strong,  and 
wise,  and  just  man,  upright  among  his  fellows,  mutually  respecting  and 
respected,  and  a  trusting  worshiper  of  God." 

Let  our  graduate  imagine  this,  and  he  may  comprehend  what  the 
•Germans  think  of  Pestalozzi.  The  reverence  and  gratitude  which  they, 
in  common  indeed  with  all  Europe,  though  in  somewhat  higher  degree, 
entertain  toward  him,  were  well  exemplified  in  the  festival  observed  in 
Germany,  Switzerland,  and  Holland,  on  the  12th  of  January,  1846,  the 
hundredth  anniversary  of  his  birthday,  and  in  the  consequent  nroneeri- 
•ings  ;  of  which  a  brief  account  follows. 

The  conception  of  this  celebration  originated  with  that  veteran  and 
most  useful  educator,  Dr.  Adolph  Diesterweg,  then  director  of  a  sem- 
inary at  Berlin.  A  mistake  of  a  year,  founded  on  dates  given  by  good 
authorities,  occasioned  a  partial  celebration  on  the  12th  of  January, 
1845.  This,  however,  was  made  a  means  of  wider  notification  and 
effort  for  the  following  year,  and  we  translate  the  most  characteristic 
portion  of  the  call,  which  was  signed  by  forty-eight  eminent  teachers 
and  educators,  including  Diesterweg  himself. 

"  His  (Pestalozzi's)  life  and  labors  testify  that  no  object  lay  nearer  his 
heart  than  to  secure  for  neglected  children  an  education  simple,  natural, 
pure  in  morals,  re-enforced  by  the  influence  of  home  and  school,  and  ade- 
quate to  the  needs  of  their  future  life.  A  concurrence  of  untoward  circum- 
stances prevented  the  permanent  success  of  such  an  orphan  asylum,  or 
poor  school,  though  proposed  and  often  attempted  by  him.  For  this  rea- 
son the  idea  has  occurred  to  various  of  his  admirers  and  friends,  in  vari- 
ous places,  of  establishing  such  institutions,  and  one  first  to  be  called 
'  Pestalozzi  Foundation.'  The  undersigned,  having  the  permission  of 
the  authorities,  have  associated  for  the  establishment  of  such  an  insti- 
tution, to  be  a  monument  of  the  gratitude  of  the  whole  German  father- 
land toward  that  noble  man.  This  call  is  intended  to  inform  the  public 
of  this  design,  and  to  request  active  co-operation,  and  contributions  in 
-money. 

"  The  Pestalozzi  Foundation  is  intended  to  afford  to  poor  children  and 
orphans  an  education  suitable  to  their  circumstances,  and  in  accordan 
vith  Pestalozzi's  views  for  this  purpose. 


744  FESTALozzrs  HUNDREDTH  BIRTHDAY. 

"].  The  institutions  founded  will  he  situated  in  the  country,  whcrtr 
jnly,  as  the  undersigned  believe,  can  the  education  of  orphans  succeed. 

••  2.  The  pupils  will,  from  the  beginning,  besides  intellectual,  moral, 
and  religious  education,  be  trained  to  domestic,  agricultural,  or  indus- 
trial knowledge  and  capacities. 

U3.  The  managers  and  matrons  to  whom  the  family  education  of  the 
pupils  will  be  confided,  are  to  labor  in  the  spirit  of  'Leonard  and  Ger- 
trude' and  •  How  Gertrude  Teaches  her  Children,'  and  the  supervisors 
and  officers  of  instruction  will  endeavor  not  only  to  put  in  practice  the 
principles  of  the  l  Idea  of  Elementary  Training]  but  to  develop  and 
p-^pagate  them. 

u  *  *  *  \ye  tnug  appea]  with  confidence  to  all  who  feel  themselves 
bound  to  gratitude  toward  Heinrich  Pestalozzi ;  to  all  who  feel  for  the 
children  of  the  poor  and  for  orphans;  to  all  who  expect  beneficial  con- 
sequences to  home  and  school  education  from  the  revival  and  develop- 
ment of  the  spirit  of  Pestalozzi,  which  the  undersigned  believe  to  be 
the  true  spirit  of  education ;  we  appeal,  in  short,  to  all  friends  of  the 
people  and  of  the  fatherland,  for  efficient  aid  to  this  undertaking — at 
once  a  monument  of  gratitude  to  a  great  man,  and  an  attempt  to  sup- 
ply an  urgent  want  of  the  present  age. 
JERLIN.  January  12,  1845." 

A  second  appeal  was  put  forth.  July  3d  of  the  same  year,  by  Diester- 
weg.  uto  tne  teachers  of  Germany,"  eloquently  setting  forth  their  pro- 
fessional obligations  to  Pestalozzi.  calling  upon  them  for  corresponding 
efforts  in  aid  of  the  enterprise,  and  proceeded  to  refer  again,  in  verv 
pointed  terms,  to  the  characteristically  charitable  and  thoroughly  prac- 
tical aspirations  of  Pestalozzi  for  the  education  of  neglected  children, 
and  to  the  similar  character  of  the  proposed  institution. 

"  It  was  his  chiefest  wish  to  dry  the  tears  from  the  cheeks  of  orphans,, 
and  to  educate  them  ;  he  longed  to  be  the  father,  the  friend,  the  teacher 
of  the  unfortunate  and  the  neglected. 

"  Do  you.  therefore,  teacher  of  the  ccTiion  school,  friend  of  the  people, 
prove  your  gratitude  to  Heinrich  Pestalozzi.  by  doing  your  part  for  the 
Pestalozzi  Foundation — no  monument  of  bronze  or  of  stone. ;  for  none 
out  a  living  monument  is  worthy  of  him — which  shall  stand,  within  the 
territory  of  Germany,  a  proof  of  the  thankfulness  of  posterity,  an  ever- 
lasting blessing  to  children,  to  the  cause  of  education,  and  human  de- 
velopment." 

The  institution  spoken  of  in  these  documents  was  intended  to  be  a 
single  central  one,  to  be  endowed  by  the  contributions  of  all  donors,  and 
to  be  a  model  and  parent  for  others  throughout  Germany ;  the  sura 
requisite  being  computed  at  30.000  thalers.  about  $22.500. 

Hut  although  sympathy  with  the  general  purpose  thus  hrought  into 
notice  was  universal  and  lively,  difficulties,  apparently  chiefly  sectarian 
soon  arose,  in  regard  to  the  special  feature  of  a  first  central  institution 
and  these  resulted  in  the  holding  of  many  local  festivals  instead  of  one 
great  one,  and  the  organization  of  many  local  Pes  i!ozzi  Foundations 


1M1STALOZZIS  HUNDREDTH  BIRTHDAY.  745- 

or  Pestalozzi  Socit '.  cs,  instead  of  one  general  one.  Such  festivals  went, 
observed,  and  institutions  or  societies  established,  at  Berlin,  Dresden, 
Leipzig.  Frankfort,  Erfurt,  Basle,  and  many  other  places.  We  proceed 
to  give  some  account  of  some  of  them,  with  extracts  from  the  more  sig- 
nificant portions  of  the  numerous  addresses,  and  other  documents  con- 
nected with  them. 

Dr.  Diesterweg  delivered,  at  Berlin,  a  characteristic  and  interesting 
iiscourse.  In  describing  the  revolution  caused  by  Pestalozzi  in  the 
estimation  of  different  studies,  he  said : — 

"  After  the  Reformation,  that  is,  after  the  establishment  of  German 
common  schools,  studies  were  divided  into  two  classes:  one  including 
the  Bible,  catechism,  and  hymn-book,  the  other  including  the  so-called 
trivial  studies.  The  former  were  for  heaven — that  is,  to  prepare  !br 
eternal  happiness ;  the  latter  for  earth,  and  its  ordinary  employments. 
The  consequence  of  this  universally-received  distinction  was.  that  the 
religious  teachers  asserted  a  dignity  far  higher  than  that  of  the  <;  trivial" 
teachers.  This  notion  is  theoretically  denied  by  Pestalozzi — at  least  by 
immediate  logical  conclusion,  though  I  do  not  think  he  discussed  the 
subject  specially — and  by  his  school.  We  have  learned  to  comprehend 
the  moral  influence  of  instruction  in  itself,  aside  from  any  peculiar  char- 
acter in  the  subject  taught;  and,  still  further,  the  direct  influence  of  all 
true  instruction  upon  the  development  of  the  pupil's  character.  This 
influence  does  not  depend  upon  the  thing  taught,  but  in  the  manner  of 
teaching.  As  in  Hegel's  system  of  philosophy,  so  it  is  in  elementary 
instruction — and  should  be  in  all  instruction — its  strength  is  in  its  method. 
This  principle  will  naturally  not  be  understood  by  eloquent  word-teachers 
and  lecturers  from  chairs  of  instruction ;  and  last  of  all  by  those  dicta- 
ting machines  and  note-readers,  who,  to  the  disgrace  of  pedagogy  and 
the  shame  of  the  whole  age,  exist  even  at  the  present  day.  But  we, 
Pestalozzi's  scholars  and  followers,  comprehend  it,  have  mastered  it, 
and  can  demonstrate  its  results  in  our  schools.  What  would  Adam 
Ries,  that  pattern  of  all  blind  guides,  say,  if  he  could  comeito  life  again 
after  three  hundred  years,  and  taking  up  an  arithmetic* — which  has- 
become  capable  of  use,  as  an  intelligently  arranged  elementary  study, 
only  since  Pestalozzi's  time  —should  find  in  it  a  chapter  "  On  the  moral 
influence  of  instruction  in  arithmetic  ?  " 

He  sums  up  the  changes  brought  about  by  Pestalozzi,  thus: — 

"Instead  of  brutal,  staring  stupidity,  close  and  tense  attention;  for 
dull  and  blockish  eyes,  cheerful  and  pleased  looks  ;  for  crooked  backs,  the 
natural  erectness  of  the  figure ;  for  dumbness  or  silence,  joyous  pleas- 
ure in  speaking,  and  promptitude  that  even  takes  the  word  out  of  anoth- 
er's mouth ;   for  excessive  verbosity  in   the   teacher,  and   consequent 
stupidity  in  the  scholar,  a  dialogic  or,  at  least,  a  dialogic-conversational 
method;  for  government  by  the  stick,  a  reasonable  and  therefore  a  seri 
ous  and  strict  discipline ;  for  mere  external  doctrines  and  external  disci 
pline,  a  mental  training,  in  which  every  doctrine  is  a  discipline  also 

*  Grube's  Arithmetic. 


746  PESTALOZZI  S  HUNDREDTH  BIRTHDAY. 

instead  of  a  government  by  force,  and  a  consequent  fear  of  the  school 
and  its  pedant,  love  of  school  arid  respect  for  the  teacher." 

He  proceeds  to  suggest  how  far-reaching  was  the  influence  of  Pesta- 
lozzi's  labors  in  mere  school-rooms  : — 

"  But  is  the  spirit  of  Pestalozzi  not  entitled  to  some  part  of  the 
credit  of  the  elevation  of  the  German  people?  Did  this  remarkable 
change  spring  up  in  a  night,  and  from  nothing?  It  is,  rather,  to  be 
wondered  at,  that  the  Pestalozzian  method  should  have  brought  about 
such  vast  results  without  foreseeing  them.  It  would  be  unreasonable 
to  claim  that  this  alone  accomplished  the  wonder ;  but  it  was  certainly 
not  one  of  the  least  of  its  causes.  Lord  Brougham  said  that  the 
twenty-six  letters  of  the  present  schoolmaster — those  ;  black  hussars ? — 
were  mightier  than  the  bayonet  of  the  soldier.  Consider  what  a  child 
must  become,  who  is  taught  as  we  have  described,  for  six  or  eight  years 
or  more.  Consider  what  a  nation  must  become,  all  the  youth  of  which 
have  enjoyed  the  influence  of  such  an  education.  What  a  project  does 
this  idea  open  in  the  future !  The  Jesuits  of  Freiburg  had  a  glimpse 
of  it,  though  no  more,  when  they  said  that  they  wanted  no  schools 
which  should  educate  '  Apostles  of  Radicalism  ; '  an  expression  shame- 
ful, not  to  Pestalozzi,  but  to  the  utterer  of  it." 

Further  on,  he  forcibly  portrays  the  need  and  the  requisites  of  such 
an  institution  as  the  intended  Pestalozzi  Foundation. 

"  The  help  we  would  atford  is  radical,  is  the  only  help.  We  consider 
all  institutions  worthy  of  praise  and  of  assistance,  which  contribute  to 
the  amelioration  of  human  suffering,  the  advancement  of  morals  and 
good  training.  Therefore  we  speak  well  of  other  institutions  having 
the  same  general  design  with  ours:  institutions  for  the  care  of  children; 
orphan  houses ;  rescue  institutions  for  neglected  children ;  associations 
for  changing  prisons  into  institutions  of  reform,  and  for  the  care  of 
dismissed  criminals  and  prisoners.  But  none  of  these  go  to  the  root  of 
the  matter;  they  do  not  correspond  with  the  precise  want;  they  do  not 
go  deep  enough.  Many  of  them  almost  seem  to  be  organized  to  make 
sport  of  the  laws  of  human  nature  and  reason.  What,  for  instance,  ac- 
cording to  those  laws,  can  a  child  be  expected  to  become,  who  has  grown 
•up  with  ignorant  parents,  from  whom  it  can  learn  nothing  but  vices  ;  who 
has  learned  from  them  to  lie  and  to  steal,  to  wander  about  and  be  a  vag- 
abond ?  In  general,  we  answer,  only  a  man  who  will  misuse  his  physical 
and  mental  powers ;  that  is,  a  criminal,  a  wild  beast,  dangerous  to  the 
welfare  of  society.  That  society,  for  self-preservation,  shuts  up  such 
men,  like  wild  beasts,  in  a  cage ;  or  punishes,  or  kills  him  ;  although,  nine 
times  out  of  ten,  he  became  such  because  he  must ;  as  probably  any  one 
of  us  would  have  done  !  Is  this  proceeding  reasonable  ?  Do  we  suc- 
ceed when  we  try  to  reform  an  eld  rogue  ?  Or  do  you  suppose  that 
children,  if  they  only  attend  the  infant  school,  are  under  school  discipline, 
and  are  confirmed,  can  be  otherwise  left  in  charge  of  abandoned  parents, 
<A  not  be  contaminated  by  the  pestilent  atmosphere  around  them  ? 
•  -erience  teaches,  and  it  can  not  be  otherwise,  that  the  influence  of 


PESTALOZZIS  HUNDREDTH  BIRTHDAY.  .  747 

father  and  mother,  whether  good  or  bad,  is  infinitely  greater  than  that 
of  infant  schools,  or  any  schools.  Those  who  have  managed  reform 
insulations  understand  this  best.  The  reason  of  the  ill-success  of  such 
is,  that  they  first  begin  too  late ;  for  they  take  the  children  after  they 
have  shown  ineradicable  marks  of  debasement,  ft  is  easy  to  protect  an 
uncontaminated  child  from  vice ;  but  to  restore  to  a  contaminated  one 
its  pristine  health  and  purity,  is  infinitely  difficult,  if  not  impossible. 

"  Our  intention  therefore  is,  to  receive  into  the  Pestalozzi  Foundation 
children  who  can  not  be  expected  to  be  educated  in  their  own  homes; 
and  those  will  naturally  be  preferred,  who  are  destitute  of  a  father  or 
mother,  and  are  without  means.  The  existing  orphan  houses  do  not  ful- 
fill their  purposes ;  and  their  organization  does  not  usually  answer  the 
requirements  of  the  Pestalozzian  principles.  We  would  establish  mod- 
«1  institutions  for  the  education  of  neglected  children,  which  shall  observe 
natural  laws,  in  which  the  child  shall  receive  a  family  education.  An 
education  together  with  hundreds  is — it  must  be  said — barrack  instruc- 
tion. A  child  who  is  to  become  an  adult,  with  human  feelings,  must 
have  enjoyed  the  thorough  and  kindly  care  of  the  feminine  nature  and 
-of  an  affectionate  father.  All  true  education  is  individual.  Where  the 
letter  of  the  law  prevails,  where  each  child  is  managed  by  general 
rules,  where  it  is  crily  a  number  or  a  figure,  which  it  must  be  in  a 
school  of  hundreds,  there  is  no  human  education,  in  any  higher  sense. 
A  girl  even,  brought  up  among  hundreds,  is,  so  to  speak,  even  when  a 
child,  a  public  girl." 

Adverting  afterward  to  the  financial  economy  of  such  institutions, 
he  observes  that  Adam  Smith  remarks,  that  "  The  support  of  the  poor 
and  of  criminals  costs  £8,000,000  a  year  in  England  and  Wales.  If 
£2,000,000  of  this  were  invested  in  education  and  good  bringing  up,  at 
least  one-half  of  the  whole  amount  would  be  saved." 

He  then  adverts,  with  some  feeling,  but  conciliatingly,  to  the  unex- 
pected breaking  up  of  the  original  plan  of  one  central  society  and  insti- 
tution, by  means  of  denominational  jealousies  ;  and  gives  a  brief  sum- 
mary of  the  finances,  &c.,  of  the  undertaking,  as  follows: — 

'•  Twelve  thousand  copies  of  our  call  were  sent  throughout  all  parts  of 
Germany.     The   sympathy  exhibited   is    altogether  encouraging  and 
delightful.     Some  hundreds  over  2,000  thalers  ($1.500)  are  already  col- 
lected ;*  the  beginning  of  the  harvest.     The  ministries  of  the  interior 
and  of  religion  have  recognized  and  approved  the  labors  of  the  society  ; 
his  excellency  Postmaster-General  Von  Nagler  has  granted  the  frank- 
ing privilege   for  sending  copies  of  the  call,  and  for  remittances ;  th« 
school  councilors  of  the  various  governments,  and   those  authoritie 
themselves,  have  assisted  earnestly  in  sending  the  call ;  and  the  schoi 
inspectors  have  assisted  in  collecting.     Many  of  them  also,  as.  for  in 
stance,  at  Potsdam  and  Frankfort-on-the-Oder,  have  sent  us  orders  for 
the  pamphlets  published  by  us  on  account  of  the  Foundation.     Princes 
thave  kindly  aided  the  purposes  of  the  society  by  contributions,  ana 

•  January  12.    In  March,  the  sum  reached  about  7.000  thalers. 


748  PESTALOZZI.S  m  M>IU;I>TJI  BIRTHDAY 

many  private  persons  also  have  given,  some  in  one  amount,  and  some  in 
subscriptions  during  five  years.  But  what  has  encouraged  us  most,  is 
the  universal  sympathy  of  the  body  of  teachers ;  both  of  common 
schools,  and  upward,  even  to  the  universities.  What  has  a  poor  com- 
mon school  teacher,  or  a  seminary  pupil,  to  give?  But  they  do  give. 
I  have  received  with  warm  thankfulness  their  gifts,  from  one  silbergro- 
schen  upward.  They  give  with  poor  hands,  but  warm  hearts. 

';  From  five  or  six  different  places  we  have  received  offers  of  land  for  a 
location,  sometimes  for  nothing;  from  the  Mark  of  Brandenburg,  Silesia, 
Saxony,  &c. ;  we  hear  favorable  accounts  from  Dessau  and  Saxe-Mein- 
ingen  ;  in  short,  we  have  good  hopes  that  the  plan  of  the  Pestalozzi 
Foundation  will  succeed.  The  festivals,  held  almost  every  where  to- 
day, will  assist  us  ;  and  we  count  with  certainty  on  the  aid  of  our  own 
fellow-citizens.  The  undertaking  is  spoken  well  of  by  every  one. 
Even  noble  ladies  are  enthusiastic  for  the  good  cause.  Three  sisters? 
whom  the  Genius  of  Poetry  overshadows.  (I  am  proud  of  being  their 
fellow  countryman.)  propose  to  publish  their  compositions  together  for 
for  the  benefit  of  the  Foundation.  Some  gentlemen  have  already  done 
the  like.  From  almost  every  locality  in  Germany,  from  Tilsit  to  Basle, 
from  Pesth  to  Bremen,  I  have  received  encouraging  and  sympathizing 
letters.  In  Pesth,  a  society  of  teachers  is  collecting  for  the  German 
Pestalozzi  Foundation ;  contributions  have  come  in  from  the  Saxons  in 
Transylvania;  in  Amsterdam  and  Groningen,  committees  have  been, 
formed  for  the  same  purpose ;  we  are  expecting  money  from  across  the 
ocean.  In  Konigsberg,  delegates  of  the  magistracy  and  city  authorities 
have  joined  with  the  committee  of  teachers,  the  more  worthily  to  cele- 
brate the  day." 

Several  pastors,  teachers,  and  officials  in  the  Canton  of  Aargau  put 
forth  a  call  for  a  Pestalozzi  festival  at  Brugg,  in  that  canton.     To  this 
there  soon  afterward  appeared  a  reply,  signed  by  a  number  of  Reformed 
clergymen  of  the  same  canton,  which  may  illustrate  the  character  of 
the  difficulties  to  which  Diesterweg  alludes.     This  reply  states,  in  sub 
stance,  that  the  signers  of  it  had,  several  years  before,  set  on   foot  a 
subscription  for  a  similar  purpose,  (it  may  be  remarked  that  the  call  it. 
self  recited  that  the  government  of  Aargau  resolved,  as  early  as  183& 
to  erect  an  institution  for  the  education  of  neglected  poor  children,  as  9 
memorial  of  Pestalozzi ;  which,  however,  financial  considerations  ren 
dered  it  necessary  to  postpone ;)  that  the  proposed  plan  of  operation 
was  unfortunate,  inasmuch  as 

1.  The  estate  of  Neuhof,  formerly  Pestalozzi's,  intended  to  be  bougfc 
as  a  site  for  the  Foundation,  was  unsuitable  and  ill-placed  for  such  P. 
purpose,  loo  large,  and  too  expensive. 

2.  Ostentatious  commemorations  of  donors  were  promised,  by  voti\e 
tablets,  &c. 

3.  The  intended  scheme  of  training  the  pupils  of  the  Foundation 
into  teachers  for  similar  institutions  is  not  practicable,  because  it  can  not 
be  determined  whether  they  are  capable  or  inclined  to  that  employment 


1'ESTALOZZI'S  HUNDREDTH  BIRTHDAY.  749 

which  requires  rare  and  lofty  qualifications ;  and  because  experience 
shows  that  such  teachers  are  to  be  trained,  not  in  such  schools  for  them 
but.  in  a  course  of  actual  employment  under  proper  conditions. 

4.  Experience  shows  that  such  institutions  should  not  be  commenced 
-on  a  large  and  expensive  scale,  but  by  means  of  single  individuals, 
properly  trained,  to  supply  the  place,  to  the  pupils,  of  fathers,  and  to 
fbegin  quietly,  with  a  small  number. 

5.  The  proposed  institution  is  to  receive  both  Reformed  and  Catho- 
lic children  ;  a  plan  which  experience  shows  to  be  unlikely  to  succeed. 
And,  if  the  principal  be  decidedly  either  Catholic  or  Reformed,  children 
of  the  other  communion  will  not  be  intrusted  to  him ;  and  if  he  is  not 
decidedly  of  either,  then  those  of  neither  will. 

These  reasons  are  clearly  and  strongly  stated,  and  seem  to  have  much 
force. 

At  the  festival  at  Basle,  Rector  Heussler  gave  some  odd  details  of 
Pestalozzi's  early  life ;  among  others,  ';  He  was  so  careless  and  absent- 
minded  at  school,  that  his  teacher  once  remarked,  shrugging  his  shoul- 
ders. 'Heinrich  will  never  come  to  any  thing;'  and  it  is  well-known  that, 
afterward,  when  he  was  at  the  summit  of  his  fame,  his  assistant.  Kriisi, 
confessed  that  he  (Pestalozzi,)  could  not  either  write  or  compute  de- 
cently; and  that  a  moderately  difficult  problem  in  multiplication,  or  di- 
vision, was  an  impossibility  to  him  at  the  age  of  fifty,  and  when  the 
most  eminent  Swiss  teacher  !  As  little  promising,  at  the  first  view,  was 
his  exterior ;  and  on  this  account  he  declared,  very  naYvely,  to  his  bride, 
that  he,  her  bridegroom,  was  outwardly  a  most  dirty  man,  as  all  the 
world  knew ;  and  that  he  presumed  that  this  was  not  the  first  time  she 
had  heard  so." 

Longer  or  shorter  accounts  are  given  in  the  Allgemeine  Schul-Zei- 
tung,  and  other  periodicals,  of  many  other  celebrations.  They  usually 
consisted  of  a  meeting,  at  which  addresses  were  delivered,  poems  recited, 
hymns  or  songs  sung ;  sometimes  followed  by  a  dinner,  with  toasts, 
short  speeches,  and  convivial  enjoyment.  There  was  also  a  practical 
part  of  the  ceremony,  viz.,  either  a  collection  for  the  central  society,  or 
the  organization  of  a  local  one. 

We  subjoin,  (from  the  Allg.  Sch.-Zeitung,)pa.Tta  of  a  quaint  article 
entitled  ' '  Considerations  on  the  character  most  suitable  for  a  memorial 
to  Pestalozzi"  and  signed  "Frankf.  O. — P. — A. — Z.,"  which  contains 
much  humor  and  good  sense. 

"But  by  what  means  is  it  proposed  to  fulfill  this  obligation  (to  Pesta- 
lozzi)? Many  persons  are  preparing  a  banquet  of  the  usual  character, 
at  so  many  silbergroschen  a  head,  including  half  a  quart  of  wine.  Pro- 
vision is  made,  also,  for  toasts,  solemn  and  not  solemn,  long  and  short; 
and,  if  the  landlords  do  their  duty,  the  consequent  sickness  will  have 
been  slept  off  by  next  morning.  These  good  folks  do  not  obstruct  the 
progress  of  enlightenment,  but  they  are  not  par  excellence  strict  disci- 
ples of  Pestalozzi.  In  other  places,  the  teachers,  especially,  are  to  be 
assembled,  inasmuch  as  they  claim  Pestalozzi  as  exclusively  one  of 


750  I'ESTALOZZI'8  HUNDREDTH  BIRTHDAY. 

hemselves,  though  he  was  also  a  theologian  and  jurist.  These  gentlemen* 
.dke  no  particular  measures  for  overloading  their  stomachs — for  reasons 
best  known  to  themselves.  On  the  other  hand,  they  are  laboring  upon 
poems  and  orations  and  will,  perhaps,  produce  some  which  will  possess 
much  unction.  But  in  order  that  their  lights  may  not  put  each  other 
out,  and  that  the  imperium  in  imperio  may  not  perish,  they  assemble 
parish-wise,  renewing  the  idea  of  the  Holy  Roman  Kmpire.  which  was 
neither  holy.  Roman,  nor  an  empire,  and  in  which  there  were  so  many 
principalities  that  the  State  was  invisible.  Naturally,  where  there  is  a 
festival  to  every  ten  schoolmasters,  the  12th  of  January  will  be  long 
enough  for  a  speech  and  toast  from  every  one.  On  this  occasion  the 
speakers  will  rather  look  away  from  the  present,  and  consider  the  future. 
Very  right :  this  was  with  Pestalozzi's  custom.  But  Pestalozzi  kicked 
down  with  his  feet  what  he  built  with  his  hands  ;  beware  that  you  da 
not  do  so.  Pestalozzi  often  used  his  heart  instead  of  his  head,  and 
reckoned  without  his  host ;  see  that  you  do  not  imitate  him  in  this. 
Pestalozzi  understood  children's  hearts,  but  not  men's;  and  did  not 
avoid  the  appearance  of  evil,  if  only  it  did  not  appear  so  to  him^ 
beware  of  following  in  his  footsteps  in  this.  A  great  Foundation  is  to 
be  erected,  worthy  of  the  German  nation  ;  all  German  heads  are  to  be 
brought  together  under  one  German  hat.  for  the  sake  of  founding,  some- 
where— perhaps  on  the  Blocksberg — a  rescue  institution  for  morally 
endangered  children.  These  certainly  need  to  be  protected,  and  Pes- 
talozzi drew  attention  to  the  fact  fifty  years  ago,  and  sacrificed  his  health 
and  his  means  in  the  cause.  But  will  one  such  institution  serve,  how- 
ever large — or  ten,  or  twenty,  or  a  hundred — for  the  forty  millions  of 
German  population?  There  are  already  thirty  such  institutions  in 
Wirtemberg;  and  there  are  still  many  children  there  in  urgent  need  of 
education  and  aid.  But  what  will  this  rescue  institution  do  ?  Even  if 
it  does  not  remain  without  a  roof,  like  the  Teutoburger  Hermann  with- 
out a  sword  ;  even  if  the  builders  finish  up  windows,  cellars,  and  stairs 
properly ;  the  chief  requisite  of  a  model  institution  is  wanting— the  father 
of  the  family.  Shall  he  be  found  in  Diesterweg's  seminary  at  Berlin, 
or  among  Harni sen's  pupils  at  Weissenfels?  Is  pietism,  or  illuminism, 
to  be  taught  in  it  ?  The  question  is  important  to  Germany,  and  Pes- 
talozzis  and  Oberlins  are  scarce.  One  Louise  Schepler  would  be  worth 
abundantly  more  than  a  council  of  ten  seminary  directors.  This  seems 
not  to  have  been  considered ;  the  building,  and  always  the  building,  of 
the  institution,  is  urged.  There  is  no  lack  of  model  institutions.  Not 
to  cite  Wirtemberg.  there  is  the  Rauhe  Haus,  at  Hamburg — is  a  better 
one  wanted  ? 

'•  Again  ;  are  neglected  children  to  be  sent  fifty  miles,  or  more,  by  mail- 
route,  with  a  policeman,  to  the  model  institution?  Or.  are  distant  do- 
nors to  have  nothing  but  a  distant  view  of  it?  Must  they  make  along 
journey  merely  to  get  a  sight  of  it  ?  '  But,'  it  isbaid,  ;  all  this  will  do  no 
harm,  if  the  occasion  shall  succeed  in  causing  a  union  of  the  German 
teachers.'  A  union — a  significant  word  !  Where  did  as  many  as  three 


PESTALOZZl  S  HUNDREDTH   dlRTHDAY.  751 

Ger  nans  ever  unite,  unless  it  were  over  a  bottle?  And  still  more,  three 
Get  man  schoolmasters,  each  quite  right  in  his  own  school!  Unite? 
With  whom  ?  Against  whom  ?  Does  not  '  unite '  mean  '  exclude  ? ' 
For  if  the  teachers  are  to  unite,  they  will  separate  from  the  clergy. 
Are  all  the  teachers  in  Germany  to  dissolve  their  present  relations,  arid 
array  themselves  under  a  pedagogical  general,  as  if  to  make  an  attack 
on  the  ministers?" 

The  writer  then  attacks  the  plan  of  selecting  teachers'  orphans,  in 
pa  ticular.  and  concludes  with  a  forcible  suggestion  of  the  necessity  of 
iiu  ividual  sacrifice  and  effort,  as  the  only  true  mode  of  reforming  or 
protecting  unfortunate  children. 

"  Spend  no  more  time  in  building  and  in  choosing  heating  apparatus, 
but  take  vigorous  hold  of  the  work  itself.  Let  each  one  take  a  child, 
and  say,  '  He  shall  be  mine.  I  will  win  him  to  myself  with  love,  so  that 
he  shall  prefer  to  follow  me  rather  than  his  thievish  father  and  godless 
mother.  He  shall  stop  cursing,  because  he  loves  me;  and  stealing,  be- 
cause I  will  teach  him  better.  He  shall  enjoy  learning,  because  he 
shall  find  in  the  school  a  retreat  from  his  parents.  I  will  not  be  deterred 
by  dirt  or  ignorance,  if  I  can  only  save  a  soul,  and  spare  the  world  one 
criminal.  I  would  rather  make  my  house  a  rescue  house  for  him. 
thar*  to  send  him  to  a  Rnuhe  Haus,  among  the  morally  neglected.' 

:>  (f  the  admirers  of  Pestalozzi— and  I  do  not  mean  teachers  alone — 
would  adopt  this  method  on  the  12th  of  January,  1846,  and  form  an  as- 
sociation, then  the  day  would  be  and  remain  a  blessing  to  Germany. 
God  grant  it ! " 


MEMORIAL   TO   PE8TALOZZI   IN   THE   SCHOOLHOU8E   AT  BIRR 


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